Hello again! I'm so happy about the reviews I've already gotten, you guys seem to like this story! Well anyways, thank you and I hope you'll keep reading. This chapter is just a little longer than the first one, and this is probably how long they will continue to be for a while. I will continue to post as frequently as possible, but schools starting for me in just a few days, so please have mercy if i get a bit delayed.

I still have only borrowed the characters from Shannon Messenger, one of the true miracles of this earth.

ON WITH THE STORY!

I stumbled into my first lecture, art, the next day. Three minutes too late, with notebooks and pencils whipping everywhere, and my hair just up in a messy bun. I looked like crap. Complete and utter crap. Way to make a good first impression…

"I am so so sorry, I did not mean to be this late! I, um, overslept and, um, could't find the right classroom, I'm really, truly sorry, this will never happen again I promise!"

The whole class stared at me. I turned to the teacher, expecting her to be mad, and preparing to throw out more excuses. But she just smiled.

"Who might you be?" She asked in a kind voice.

"Sophie Foster, ma'm" came my muffled reply.

"Well then, Sophie Foster, take your place behind one of the easels. You are only three minutes late, and even if you were more late your own education is the only thing that will suffer."

I did as she said and took one of the empty easels placed in the room. Around me the other students had turned to their own work, as the teacher began to explain the goals of the lesson. To be honest I wasn't paying that much attention, art class had never been my stronger side. The lesson was dedicated to painting faces, portraits, whatever you call it, and well, my artwork looked more like mr. Potato head than anything else. At the end of the lecture I went to the washing station to clean up my brushes…and fell. As if this lesson wasn't humiliating enough already! My paintbrushes dropped to the floor, leaving paint scattered all over the surface. With a deep sigh i crouched down and started to pick up my things, when a blond head of hair plopped down beside me.

"You know, we've only met twice, and you've already managed to embarrass yourself both times. Should probably earn you a medal for some world record."

I recognised that voice. It was the boy from yesterday. He looked up and smiled before starting to clean up the mess of paint on the floor. And I was not wrong, it was the guy from yesterday. Same tousled hair, same trademark smirk, and the same blue eyes. I felt my face heating up and quickly looked away.

"Maybe that says more about you than me? Ever thought about that?"

"Oh I know it's me! My handsomeness clearly catches you of guard every time."

His grin only grew as the colour on my cheeks deepened.

"See? I'm totally right!"

He handed me the last of the paintbrushes and stood up to leave. He had just walked out the door as I noticed a folder where the boy had just been. His folder, I realised. I slowly opened it up, careful not to destroy anything. And boy was I happy I hadn't! The first thing I saw when I opened the folder was a drawing of a girls face. She had long, blond hair, blushing cheeks and warm, chocolate brown eyes. But what took me aback was the quality. Every brushstroke was perfectly placed to create a flow in the picture. Every feature was beautifully added in place with such precision that it looked real. And the eyes. The girl's eyes were beautifully dark, and speckled with glittering golden flecks. There was a light of glee in them, making them feel alive even though they were only painted onto a piece of paper. And though they were way to pretty, they also seemed familiar. It took a few seconds until I realised that these were the two eyes I saw in the mirror every morning. They were mine. This boy, who I had met exactly two times, had painted me. I didn't even know his name! And thats when I realised: these were his artworks. You write your signature on your artworks! I quickly peeled back the corner of the folder, and there, in a sloppy handwriting, stood the name Keefe in black pen.

...

"Keefe!"

I ran trough the halls as fast as I could with Keefe's art folder in one hand, and my things in the other. He had to have this back, and I had to talk to him. I rounded a corner… and was approximately ten inches from running into him, Keefe, before i managed to stop. He had already turned around, probably because he heard me scream his name just seconds before.

"Whoa, slow down there Foster! No need to embarrass yourself again." He was smirking as usual, letting out a small chuckle.

"I know I'm hot, but I really don't need you running after me like this."

I held out the folder to him.

"You forgot this. In art class. I thought you might want it back…" He nodded slowly and grabbed the folder, but before he could really grasp it i pulled it away again.

"…But first i need to ask you something. The portrait in your folder, it's of me right? I mean not that I would think that you would draw me or anything, I mean we've barely just met! And I don't know I just thought it looked king of like me, but what do I know?! Maybe you know tons of girls with blond hair and brown eyes and just…drew…them…"

I finally trailed of when I saw how he was looking down on me. Like I was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

"You know, you're kind of cute when you rant like that. And when you blush, just like you're blushing right now." Surely enough i could feel my cheeks heat up.

"But yes, I painted you. Guess I just like painting a beautiful face."

Well that didn't exactly help to calm my blush… He leaned in just a little, bringing a finger to tap my cheek.

"We should have a name for that. How about 'The Foster Blush'?"

I could just nod weakly, his close proximity stirring something inside me, as well as turning my brain to complete mush. For a minute we just stood like that, his hand against my cheek and looking straight into each others eyes. I was practically drowning… Something deep inside me buzzed with excitement, and a little voice in the back of my head told me this was so wrong. I didn't even know this guy, and if things continued like this I could find myself in a really bad position. But what could I do when he was looking at me like that, pupils lightly dilated, and gaze boring deep into my soul… I was lost… Until a loud noice made us jump away from each other (hihi it's only the second chapter!), his face just a little pink and mine burning so red it was almost purple. The noice had come from a large clock nearby, reminding us that time was still passing and we had other lectures to attend. I searched for something to say and noticed that I was still holding on to his folder. I quickly handed it over, trying to hide my still flushed cheeks.

"Well here's your folder. You clearly are an amazing artist!"

He smiled his trademark smirk and winked at me.

"Nah, it's all in the motive." He grabbed the folder yet again and walked past me, but not before adding "See you around Foster."

...

"Biana, are we a the girl talk-stage yet?"

I had been sitting with my legs curled up against my chest on my bed when my roommate came in. My roommate who was now glancing at me with a puzzled and surprised look.

"Yeah, well, if you want us the be I'm totally into it!"

"Good cause something happened." She sat down on the covers beside me.

"Okay, before you say something, are you feeling sad, happy, angry or confused?"

"The last one, I think…" I mumbled into my knees.

"Great, then we probably won't need to empty my emergency chocolate stash just yet. Now talk."

And so I told her the whole story about the weird boy. I told her everything he had said and done these past two days while she patiently listened without interrupting. The only thing I left out was the painting. It felt too personal, even though, of course, I still didn't really know this Keefe who had painted me. Maybe I should have told her, I don't know…

"Sophie?" she said when I finished my story.

"Do this mysterious boy have a name?"

"Uh yeah. His name is Keefe. He's either a sophomore or junior, has blood hair and blue eyes? Do you know who I'm talking about?"

She looked at me with a knowing smile, as and leaned down as if to show that she was completely comfortable in this situation.

"Sure do. That's my brothers best friend for you. The one I told you about at lunch yesterday, remember?"

Oh no. OH NO! She couldn't seriously mean that I would have to meet this guy together with her now that I'd told her everything about him. Keefe I reminded myself. I would have to meet Keefe after telling one of his friends how deep his blue eyes were. What had I gotten myself into?

"Are you going to tell him? Keefe I mean, about what I've said?" I nervously stared down at the floor while I fully prepared for her to laugh and say yes. But she just leaned forward and hugged me gently patting my back.

"Of course not honey! He does not need to know anything. And besides, totally against the girl code! We have rules for this kinds of stuff! No one, not even my brother, will know about any of this until you decide to tell them."

I took a deep breath. Biana was starting to really grow on me. These four years were looking brighter and brighter.

...

So that's it for the second chapter! Pretty much just fluff huh...? Well that's how I am so judge me all you want! I really hope you liked this update. If you did, please fave and follow to be updated when the next chapter is posted. If you have the time, leave a review to tell me what you thought, it always makes my day!

AttemptedWriting101: SAAAMEEE! Sokeefe for life! Thank you for reading, and I will absolved continue writing!

MiraculousNikki: Well here you go, hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Thank you for the review!