Nathan Free, Natalie Bound

I was in my seat in history when Rabert walked in. A bit of a turnaround, this was one of the classes I normally walked to, and his previous class was closer than mine, so he was almost always here ahead of me. This time I sat at my desk, right next to his accustomed spot. I was staring at him over the tops of steepled fingers, with an entirely cold and appraising expression. And I kept that gaze locked on his as he mounted the steps and moved to my side.