Bloom

13. empty hands

Haven

"Hello, dear. Are you looking for Hannah?" An elderly looking woman walked into my direction, probably noticing the lost look on my face as I had been standing in the library for a while.

Nodding, I made eye contact with the woman, "Yeah, Ms. Hannah. She was supposed to be here today, I believe? I mean, I'm part of this project where I help other students and she said to be here on Wednesday.. she'd introduce me to the student. Not that I don't know him already but-"

"The library is supposed to be a quiet place, my dear." She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes for a brief moment, making me blush a little at my own chattiness.

"Oh! Right.." I hesitated, biting on my lower lip.

She laughed when she opened her eyes again, then pointed at the chair and table I had been sitting at last time I helped Zephaniah. "Hannah is sick. She told me about it, though. I'll make sure to bring the guy to you."

"Okay! Thank you," I gave her a smile and sat down at the table, taking my own notes out of my backpack. I wondered why Zephaniah still wasn't here, as he was usually always here earlier than me.

Not a minute later, though, he walked into the library, his eyes questionable as he looked around himself. He wiped his fringe to the right side of his face, some strands falling right back onto his eyes.

I wanted to call for his name, but before I could- the old woman had already walked over to him. He looked down at her as he was taller, his expression soft, though a little confused as he glanced over at the desk. He fiddled with his fingers, not making eye contact with the woman as he listened and spoke to her.

Eventually, he gave her a small, forced smile and looked straight into my direction, our eyes meeting. I gave him a smile, but he quickly looked down at his shoes as he slowly walked over to me.

"Zephaniah! Hey.." I trailed off, realising I sounded way too excited.

"Hello," he said quietly, giving a tiny smile, the left side of his mouth curling up lightly. He didn't make eye contact. He simply sat down across me and quietly grabbed his notebook, brushing his fingers over the latest page he scribbled on.

"Uhm," He said, surprising me as I thought he wasn't going to speak up first. "Am I- am I too late?"

He glanced at me, his eyes averting to his notebook after a brief moment of eye contact. "No, no. Not at all. Just on time. I heard Ms. Hannah from the library is sick. She was going to introduce us properly, but, I guess we don't need it, do we? I mean, we're classmates.. We can still talk about anything, though? First, to warm up maybe."

Zephaniah had a slight frown on his face as he glanced at me again, as if he didn't understand what I just said. "Sorry, I-I could not quite follow.." He trailed off, his cheeks tinting pink as he started staring at his pen.

Okay, maybe I was chatty. It was just excitement, perhaps.

"Don't say sorry, it's all me," I chuckled, my own cheeks turning rosy as well due to my own behaviour. "I meant to say that Hannah, from the library was going to properly introduce us, even though we're classmates. I thought maybe we could talk about, I don't know, anything? To get to know each other better."

Zephaniah shifted in his seat, and when I looked up at him, our eyes met right away. He was staring intensely, as if he was analyzing my words, searching for a deeper meaning to it all. It confused me, because after a moment, he blinked his eyes and nodded, looking away.

He stayed quiet, though, so I knew I had to start. He was still the reserved and quiet guy after all, which I didn't, at all, mind. "Okay, so I've lived here in Bradford for over six years. I grew up in Manchester but moved due to my father's job as he became the headmaster of this school here. What about you?"