Unfair

July, 2004

When Frances stepped out the National School building, Tristan immediately knew something was wrong. Her features were drawn, her jaw clenched. Disappointment or anger, he wasn't quite sure. With the scorching heat, he expected her to be red in the face, not deathly pale.

Tristan had not shied away from stating his intentions; he knew that, coming with her to the National School, he would run into some of his former students. Not many, for most of them avoided this particular branch of exams. Only five, out of the forty-five, had made it to the orals after their written exams in May. Just as he predicted, Frances was part of that elite.

If it came as a surprise to her, it only elicited a proud smirk from her former geography teacher. He knew she didn't understand his trust in her abilities, but her ranking after the first three weeks of written exams had just proven him right. 36, out of 789 people ; his woman was clever like hell !

But right now, the frown on her face wasn't too enticing. Standing from the bench he had been roasting over, Tristan covered the distance easily. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him; gratefulness and love mingled. It failed at stirring his heart; a balm upon his past failures.

As soon as he was within reach, the young woman circled his waist and buried her face into his chest. Tristan's head lowered instinctively, his cheek resting upon the young woman's head. The shadows of his panama hat shielding them from prying eyes as his arms gently engulfed Frances in a warm hug. Too warm; the heat was scorching. But he wasn't the first to let go, sweat and weather be damned. For a moment, the young woman drew strength from his unwavering presence, her limbs fastened around him with such trust that his heart soared.

Then she lifted her head and her warm chocolate eyes dove into his, coating him with a warm wave of belonging.

— "Thank you, I needed that", she smiled.

— "Anytime", he whispered, his lips ghosting above hers.

Frances stood on her tip toes for a kiss, one he bestowed with delight upon her awaiting rosy mouth. Mmm. She was a breath of fresh air in his life, this little woman.

— "Frances !"

The cry caught him off guard, and his head jerked up to see who called upon his girlfriend. Fifteen feet away, Olivier was jogging up to them. Frances turned around, hands falling to her side as she tried to keep a neutral posture. Had he seen them kissing ?

— "Damn, Frances. What a bitch !"

Tristan started at Olivier's words, but they were not meant for his beloved. The blond guy strutted forward, blond locks flying around his face and he wondered how long it would take for his former student to recognise him.

One, two… when Olivier's jaw went slack, he couldn't help the smirk that lifted the corner of his mouth. Damn, perhaps he should wear his sunglasses instead of the Panama hat.

— "Mr Kristiansen ?"

— "Tristan, now", he smiled, offering the young man his hand.

Olivier shook it, his eyes travelling from Frances to him with a twinkle in his eye. Then he seemed to swallow his question, addressing the young woman instead.

— "I'm sorry, Frances. It was pretty unfair"

That statement worried him, and Tristan's gaze returned to Frances whose cheeks were set ablaze.

— "What happened ?", his smooth voice asked.

Frances huffed, rage pouring forth as her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag.

— "The biology examiner happened. That… that fucking woman, she gave me an impossible subject."

Tristan's brows rose, hiding behind the loose strands escaping the hat as she explained.

— "In vitro cultures. We didn't study any of it in the past two years. I had nothing to present, nothing !"

— "Yeah. Totally out of the scope", added Olivier, his blond curls bouncing as he shook his head.

Tristan frowned; Frances' classmate had probably been there while she prepared the subject. In any case, a bad mark in biology meant that Frances had next to no chance to integrate this National school.

— "You sure ?", he asked.

Olivier shifted from one foot to the other.

— "More than sure. Out of the two of us, we are clueless"

— "To think that my geology exam went so well. I was so thrilled…", Frances added.

Her eyes misted over, and he couldn't help but circle her shoulder. There was nothing that could be done now. No complain would be accepted, and perhaps, in the second-high school of the city – the one that ranked first - they had studied the subject extensively because they knew the perks of some examiners. It was an unfair system, one highly subjective where teacher kept their network strong to get that kind of information before the oral exams happened.

It wouldn't be the first time that a student would be wronged because she didn't belong to the right school. Or because the quotas were already obtained, and she came at the end of the list. It could be anything, from rivalry to personal opinion, to politics.

— "Perhaps a war between schools", he mused, squeezing the young woman's shoulder as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

… perhaps the examiner didn't like Frances' long hair just as well.

— "Or jealousy"

Frances snorted then; it didn't occur to her that people could be jealous of her good looks and witty mind. But Tristan wasn't so blind; it happened. Even in those elite classes and exams. And especially with bright and beautiful women.

— "Giving the guy you just landed, it would make sense", Olivier sniggered.

Tristan's lips quirked, and Frances choked beside him. There, busted ! Well, they weren't especially hiding it anyway, but there was no fooling Olivier … for sure, by this evening, the event would have gone around the whole class.

— "Anyway, coming at Joe's this evening ? It would be nice to have you again Mr Kristiansen. For old times' sake"

Frances lifted an interrogative eyebrow, watching him with an amused expression – one that failed to hide the disappointment on her face. Damn, two years, working 75 hours a week to be thwarted at the last moment. If she didn't get in, would she want to do a third year ? He certainly hoped not; two years was more than enough suffering.

— "I don't know…", she eventually said.

But Olivier would have none of it.

— "Come on, don't let that bitch kill your day. Come, the two of you. It's the last time"

Tristan's wasn't oblivious to the scheme; Olivier's efforts to cheer Frances up warmed his heart.

— "I'll convince her", he eventually said.

The student winked at him.

— "Great. See you then"

And while Olivier disappeared in the street, his messy locks bouncing around with every step he took, Tristan turned to Frances.

— "Really, Tristan ?"

The former teacher grabbed his lady's hand.

— "It could be nice."

The young woman frowned, her eyes closing when his lips landed on her temple.

— "But… us ?"

Tristan nudged her head with his straight nose like a little animal, causing her lips to quirk. He couldn't resist kissing them soundly before stating his case.

— "We're busted anyway. If I am to be the gossip of the evening, I'd rather be here to have fun with your colleagues"

— "Are you sure ?"

— "Yeah. Come, let's head out and forget about that stuff. We'll have a shower, you'll pretty yourself up and we'll have a few tapas before we join them at Joe's. What do you say ?"

Frances' smile widened at the perspective, and the twinkle returned in her eye.

— "You know how to talk to women"

Tristan's gaze softened, his hand cupping her cheek as he considered the woman that had stolen his heart effortlessly.

— "Nope, only to mine. And that's because she is a fairy"

By the time they made it to Joe's four hours later, Frances' cheeks were reddened from the little wine, the scorching heat and the very relaxing evening they had spent. Tristan was proud of himself; seeing the colours return to her face. Her joy was a present.