Tardies Get the Best Seats

"Hello," he called in a soft voice, afraid he would scare her.

She jumped nonetheless, and turned around.

Conan stood there a second. Stunned. She had small scrapes on her face. They were very recent, not even dried up. Her red lipstick had smudged on her lower lip: two little red triangles. She looked like those beautiful painted Matryoshka dolls you found on Christmas markets. 

Her eyes got big. Just like on the beach. She recognised him. A bright smile rose on her face.

He thought he'd never see it again. She's not supposed to be here. She's gone.

But it's her. Why is it her? His mind races and runs after all the thoughts and questions that popped in his head.

"It's you!" Her voice came out loud. It startled him and she laughed.

Still, her voice rewired his brain. "Yeah it is." Conan realised he was grinning too. An anxious chuckle escaped him. "And you're the girl with the boogie. Could you be our mysterious new student?"

She laughed "Yes." She paused. "I wanted to come and thank you on the beach but-

"Don't even." He smiled. "You were with your family. My name is Conan. I'm very happy to meet you for real."

"Me too. My name is Sassara. Have you been in this school a while?"

"I've been here pretty much my whole life.

"Hmh. Do you think they would mind if we enter while they're talking?"

"Don't worry," he said "They won't mind a tardie like you." He then paused and added with a smile. "As long as you stay with me, the teachers won't bother you."

She chuckled. "I'll hold on to those words then."

"Also, what happened to your face?"

"Oh!" She laughed. "Just my dog. It's why I'm late."

"Oye, pretty hectic for your first day." He realised her lips were still smudged. He raised his hand, and stopped mid-air. She was close, enough he could see she was sweating. Had she ran to school?

Sassara watched the hand he drew away.

"Ah uhm, I think you bit your lip or something..."

She checked herself in her phone, and laughed. "Thank you for letting me know."

She was smiling the whole time. With the side of the thumb, she traced the line of her lower lip. The two red triangles imprinted on her bottom one started fading away. She then wet her thumb and polished it off.

Conan gazed at last year's exhibitions which were still hung on the walls. He crossed his arms. Just watching her lick her thumb had froze his brain again. It felt impolite to watch her. 

"How does it look?"

He turned around to look at her.

"Good, no?"

It's perfect.

"Yeah it's fine," he said.

She looked at him, waiting. "Do you think it's ok if you lead the way?" She looked smaller.

"Of course."

They approached the double doors. From the small window, they could see the new Dean talking on stage. Sassara let out a strong, short exhale. She was not smiling anymore. Her nostrils flared up, her eyes worried.

She caught him staring, and chuckled. "I hate being late," she said in a small voice.

"We can be late together."

Her dimples were back.

"Then it's ok."

Conan did not wait. This was her first day. She deserved to feel welcomed. He opened the door. The warm lights of the projectors fell on them. The Dean's voice now loud and clear. The large hall was packed, all chairs filled up, and people stood on the sides.

Conan looked back at Sassara behind him. He took her hand. It was dainty, and warm. A little moist too. She must have been quite stressed. He held her hand a little tighter, and she tightened hers in reply.

Conan did not look who was around. He scanned for a little spot somewhere. There, next to the electrical implant. It was tight and they forced people around to scoot a little. It was still too small for them to stand side by side. He rested against the wall, and invited her to stand in front. She did, fast, not wanting to attract more sliding eyes and whispers. 

They both plunged in the Dean's speech. It could have been inspiring, but everyone was too hyper to focus on building the best versions of themselves.

Conan was the first that could not concentrate. Despite him being tall, there was less than a head's difference between them. She must have felt him struggling, and leaned to the left so he could peek over her right shoulder.

He tried to listen at the speech again, but failed. She was so close. This morning he was wallowing in his feelings and now she was right here. In his school, in front of him. 

Why is she here? But now he knew her name. Sassara. Her black hair turned copper from the projector's lights. Peered at her exposed neck. Soft, white skin with a few drops of beauty spots.

But he teared his face away. 

Look straight.

He felt the heat of her body. He was so aware of her. Every inspiration she took. He could not help it. And he felt like she was hyperaware too. Conan could swear she was warmer than before. Sassara shifted weight on her feet.  It made her hair sway. They were so long that they brushed his fingers. It tickled his hands. He wanted to move them away, but they served as the only shield between them.

Dammit get a hold of yourself.

She had just arrived at the school and the student council president was getting hot and bothered in front of the whole school. It definitely wouldn't help drying her palms. 

He slapped himself in the brain until he listened to the speech. Then, he felt how she unwinded herself. Not shifting anymore, her shoulder slid down her silhouette. Conan could not help smiling. After all, he had managed to calm her down.

Now that Conan payed attention to his surroundings, he finally noticed his friends, who sat at the back with the rest of their class.

And they must have noticed him long ago, because their eyes were huge, and filled with questions. The questions all pointed to Sassara. He ignored them. It would only cause more trouble. But he knew they were probably laughing. He could feel them in his back. Ali would be struggling to control his laugh by now. 

And dammit, he wasn't focused on the speech anymore. 

Again.