What is life to you?

<b>Oct. 16 | 1:30pm | 60 days before the deadline</b>

He waited for five hours, scribbling, doodling, and seeing the latest tweets. (If I'm allowed to be adding my thoughts, he is a very dumb person by not asking her number but go off I guess.) He chose to stay in those fields as the entrance of the school was in sight and it was obvious that he would be able to see her when she went outside, and he nailed it.

When he saw her, he stood up and began walking towards her. The problem was that the entrance was a bit crowded. How did he recognize her? Quite easy, those curls where spottable from miles away. He went to where she was standing to ask her if she was ready, but before he could open his mouth, she asked him the same question.

—Uhm, yeah.

—That's not the kind of vibe we want in here sir.

—Sorry madam, follow me to the vibe shop, or as mortals call it, the "coffee shop".

—I'll follow you. —She was smiling the whole time as if those interactions were part of her day's highlights.

They began walking towards the café as Sophie called it, or to the coffee shop as Jack did. The name doesn't matter. They were talking about casual stuff, kind of roasting the teacher, and laughing at the jokes they made. It was a short walk, no more than 5 minutes. When they arrived at the café the little bell rang. (Small side note, this is not a Starbucks) They sat down close to the window, Sophie seemed to enjoy watching the people outside. Jack noticing this asked her in the most innocent way. "What is life to you?"

—That's a tough question. I was born in France, in Nice, I lived there for about 9 years. Then my dad found a good job in here, and we have been living here since then, so I got to say that life is change for me. I can't imagine my life without imaging change and the wonders that I have seen. What about you, what is life to you?

—A challenge. I have seen a lot and I am in a constant struggle, so it's a challenge.

—Come on just that, no lore? No backstory?

—Yeah, I don't like giving backstory.

—Geez, come on, At least a minor detail, if we are going to work together, we will need to know each other, you know, trust each other.

—Madam but I do not vibe with my backstory.

—Then let me vibe check you.

—That sounds right enough. You will get a bit of a backstory. My dad died when I was three, it was weird I have to admit, and then my mom had to go back to her work and take a day-long work because this is the country of freedom and you know the story, shit happens. So, I wanted to have a better life. Maybe buy a house for my mother. And that's the tea.

—Wow, are you okay? —She was clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but she wanted to help. (Aren't people like this so amazing?)

—Uhm yeah. Shit happened 15 years ago.

—I think we need a happier topic.

—Yeah, that would be nice.

They continued talking for about an hour, sometimes nonsense, sometimes serious stuff, but they told each other to meet in that café each day after school, for "project purposes". Jack was nervous about the next question he needed to ask, so he tried to ask but it came a bit awkward, and by a bit I mean like a lot.

—Sophie, so uhm I was wondering if you uhm, you know, like we need to be able to remain in contact, for the project obviously, like uhm, can you give me your number? or would you like mine?

She laughed a bit and told him. —Am I the first girl you ask for her number? Jacky, I thought you were more of a player.

—You are not the first one, but I always have some trouble with this you know?

—It's okay, give me your phone. —after he gave it to her, she wrote her number and gave the phone back. —there you have. Are you ready to go?

—Yeah, yeah, do you mind if I walk you to your house?

—I mean it's a few miles away, but if it's okay with you that's okay with me.

—That's not far, I'll go with you.

They went out of the café to Sophie's house, and guess what, they were talking all the way to her house. They got there, said goodbye, and Jack was alone to walk the same distance again, and then some more to get to his Sweet Suburban Tomb, a.k.a. His House.