They met when the fully blossomed flowers began to wither away; when the wind smelled of rain, and tasted of freedom. While leaves were splashed in vibrant rust and gold, and new beginning opened for youthful souls— they met in a classroom.
"My name is Annabeth Mikaela. I recently moved from America. It's great to meet you all."
Her smile was wide and shyless, void of any fear that caused her eyes to squint and her hands moved behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels.
Behind half-lidded eyes, Oliver Frankson watched in listless interested with his chin rested on his palm and twirled his pencil using the other.
So animated. He frowned, a hint of annoyance bubbled to the surface and turned to look at the window instead.
As the excited chattering of the students became background noise, his focus turned entirely to the scenery in front of him— he watched as the wind pick up the fallen leaves and dance with them creating a windwhirl. The sun hid behind massive white clouds embellishing the outside world in grey, gold, and rust as he watched a murder of crows fly to the sky leaving only traces shiny black feathers that stood out against the sunless sky.
Beautiful. He thought mesmerized.
The tranquil image became disoriented when Annabeth's face appeared in front of his eyesight.
"Hello. What's your name?" she smiled—it was the eye-shutting smile again and up close it was even brighter, but what irked him was when he finally noticed how forced it truly was.
He turned back to look at the blackboard, his face carefully blank. "Oliver." he replied in a bored tone.
"Oliver," she tested his name on her tongue. "Huh..."
It sounded awkward as she stressed the incorrect vowels but learned he didn't mind as much as he thought he would.
"I'm Annabeth!" She said too loud, "Pleased to meet you." Her too-wide-smile appeared again.
"Likewise." Oliver's own smile became tight-lipped and forced.
"I hope we can become friends." Annabeth continued to smile.
"Likewise." He repeated, and that's the end of that.
***
When a bright newcomer moves to a tiny, gloomy town, word gets around like quickfire, and the townspeople feel the compulsive need to take a closer look as if inspecting the newest attraction at a zoo.
Over the week many students had come up to Annabeth, asking all types of question— from where she lived before to if she was still a virgin.
Annabeth completely unfazed she answered them all with pleasant smiles and vague answers. Giving an air of superiority every time Oliver was forced to listen to.
Yet one question stood out to him.
"Why did you move here, it's possibly the most boringest place you can kind of."
Oliver's paused writing mid-letter subconsciously waiting for Annabeth's answer with anticipation.
Annabeth paused then released a small quiet laugh. "That's a secret."
YOU ARE READING
Winter Water Lilies
Teen Fiction"God knows I had not wanted to fall in love with her. I had not wanted to fall in love with anyone. But God knows I had." - Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms [Book One]
