Part VI: Contact

Ever since I met Villette, I couldn’t get her out of my mind; it was so maddening that it was irritating. Those in the Veritas class were never of particular interest to anyone in the Society, and I’d never taken an interest in any of them before, so why now? It didn’t make any sense.

Nevertheless, I found myself searching constantly.

In the hallways.
In the cafeteria.
In the Workroom.

… As if my eyes expected to catch a glimpse of her figure passing by.

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I told myself that it was because of the Supervisor's orders: "Keep an eye on that girl."
That's what she said, and that's what I was doing... Right?

And sometimes, I got lucky. I’d ‘just happen’ to be taking my lunch hour at the same time as she would; of course, I’d never approach her – interacting openly with members of different classes had always been looked down upon, and I wasn’t about to let some dumb girl mess up what little respect Supervisor L’anme had for me.

Though, I suppose she’d already done that during the Examination anyway.

That particular day, I ‘just happened’ to be taking my lunch hour at the same time as Villette was again. She was sitting at a long, white meal table, three rows in front of me – it was supposed to be the same as every other day.

She’d make her way down the assembly line at the lunch buffet, and then carry her tray to the same table, right in the middle of the room.

I’d take a seat with my own lunch and sit three rows behind her, watching her back quietly.
She’d eat her lunch, look up at the clock on the wall in front of her promptly at 12:30pm, stand up and throw out her trash, leaving without so much as a glance in my direction.

My head wouldn’t turn, but my eyes would follow her as far as they could as she made her exit on the other side of the room behind me (I’d wait to hear the large double doors shut before turning around).

That’s how it was supposed to go.

But that day was different.

That day, she made her way down the assembly line at the lunch buffet and carried her tray to the table in the middle of the room.

That day, I took a seat with my own lunch and sat three rows behind her, watching her back quietly.

That day, she ate her lunch.

But that day, at 12:30pm, she didn’t look at the clock.

She turned around. And she looked at me.

And I looked right back at her.