Miss Incomplete | ✓

21 | He Loves Me

Julian chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls me closer. He lowers himself to my ear, "is it bad that I actually like you like that?"

"What? Three minutes from breaking your bones?"

"No. Comfortable with me enough. Calling me names, giving me threats. It actually makes me feel like we're more than like friends that only help each other with Miss Incomplete."

"Wow, you have freakishly weird standards," I shook my head, laughter bypass my lips. I remove his hand around my wrist, took his hand and begin to pull him off to the side, diverting from the advertisement. "Anyways, I think we should give it a day and come back to check at the end of the day. Y'know, to see if there's any signatures." My eyes lingered back to the bulletin board.

"Um, Francena?" I turn to Julian, meeting his brown eyes. He points down.

I followed, and found that I was holding Julian's hand, oh my god, oh my fucking god, I'm holding Julian's hand.

I quickly dissolved and pulled back my hand, feeling terribly embarrassed. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," I apologises over and over, "I didn't mean to—I usually just grab my friends' hand like that—"

"Francena," Julian proclaims, forcing my lips to close, "its okay."

I nod, not trusting myself with words anymore. Students were beginning to pack into the school building, crossing paths with the bulletin board before halting to a stop. They were two girls, who I found to be the same girls from my forensics class: Emilia and Beverly.

They giggled again, something I found they do a lot, before pulling out a pen and writing their names on something. I turn back to Julian, who locked himself in a look.

When the girls left, giggling even more, we rushed over back to the bulletin board; seeing two new signatures freshly printed on the sign up sheet I created. I turn to the raven-haired boy, "at least you got two fans now."

—

"Can you stop fidgeting, you're making me nervous and I don't even know what I'm supposed to be nervous for," Iris hisses, keeping her volume low due to class. We were in Government History at the moment, with Graham, who was surprisingly doing his work.

Iris sat to the right of me, while Graham sat behind me. Since the seats were divided into columns, Graham was a bit closer to me. "Sorry," I apologise, dropping the pen into my hands, "I'm just nervous."

"Really?" Iris draws out sarcastically, "I couldn't tell."

I was anxious about the sheet on the bulletin board; if we do manage to find the person through handwriting, the next thing to do is confrontation. If we do confrontation, they could reveal that I was the original Miss Incomplete all along and tricking Julian.

"Are you going to stop worrying and tell me exactly why you're worried?"

I sigh, slapping the pencil on the desk as I try to tame my hands. I turn to my best friend, "Julian and I set up this thing for Miss Incomplete, you know. It's a sign-up sheet, and basically, we've posted it and waiting for people to sign their signatures."

"...And how is this helping with your hunt?"

"Because, the handwriting of the name should match with the handwriting of the notecard. If we find one that's a good similarity, it could mean they are it, y'know?"

"So that's great, you'll help him find Miss Incomplete then and you'll get his favour, right?"

"No–I mean, yes, that's true, but what I'm trying to say is because I'm just nervous because the next objective is confrontation. That means, there's a good chance the copycat knows I'm Miss Incomplete originally and there's a slight chance that they might snitch and tell Julian."