salt air

drunk:

sarah → nora: did you know you have the prettiest eyes ever? also your smile. just thought you should know and you should also come over and finish this wine with me honestly

sad:

sarah → nora: i know you're dealing with a lot - but please, just be okay. for those of us who care for you if nothing else. please, nora. don't shut everyone out.

reveal:

sarah → nora: pretty sure i care about you more than just about anybody except for clara. you're one of my best friends, and you've always just accepted me. that means more than you know. also you're hot and there's absolutely part of me that still has a crush on you like i did when i was thirteen.

sarah → ursula: remember how i always used to send you pictures of beautiful houses and trees when i went for walks while we were at university?? well look!! [ attached photo ] it is so beautiful and elegant and it made me feel so lovely and so i had to share with you!

sarah → lola: you know, if you need records changed or anything it's not the best idea but i can get rid of your demerits or when you got in trouble

sarah → lola: also i want to hear about whoever my prede - the person before me was. tea? i'll buy :)

vaememes​:

Send a word for a specific text from my muse to yours.

Send ‘drunk’ to receive a drunk text from my muse. Send ‘sad’ to receive a sad/down text from my muse. Send ‘mad’ to receive a mad/angry text from my muse. Send ‘happy’ to receive a happy/excited text from my muse. Send ‘tired’ to receive a slow/sleepy text from my muse. Send ‘busy’ to receive slow texts from my muse. Send ‘bored’ to receive a disinterested text from my muse.

reinacervantes​

The mood in the air felt uncomfortable. Not the sort that left an stale taste in one’s mouth, but a rather obvious… odd feeling. As if there was an established connection that intertwined the three of them without Reina’s knowledge. It certainly didn’t feel normal, or like anything else she’d experienced in her adulthood. Not that she’d ever admit it, but the brunette felt unsettled. She had always been someone who could expertly read other people… a talent that had proven useful in her years with the cartel, and from what she was feeling, something was off. Was Ms. McKnight an ex of Jakob’s that she didn’t quite know about? Surely, it’d be impossible, especially considering the headmaster seemed to be significantly younger than the both of them.

“Muchísimas gracias, Ms. McKnight. I can’t begin to explain how grateful I am. I’ll make sure Lucia submits something remarkable… and you’ll best believe I’ll be watching very carefully this time. Your understanding means a lot to me… to the both of us. We were very disappointed to hear about her misbehavior.” Okay, that was definitely a lie. Cheating was tame compared to the things Mr. and Mrs. Cervantes-Müller dealt with on a daily basis. It wasn’t a surprise that their eldest took after them. “Ah, two… that’s a perfect age. They talk about the terrible twos, but our girls were as sweet as can be at that age. You must savor it. The cuddliness won’t last forever, let me tell you. She actually looks like Tilda did when she was two.”

Her dark gaze zeroed in on Jakob as he spoke, her interest piquing immensely at his next question. Almost as if he read her mind… she knew there was more to their sudden meeting. Her suspicions of a possible past connection between the two had proven to be right. Now she was even more interested, and perhaps slightly concerned. 

Ah, the zoo. Of course. Although, Sarah’s response seemed somewhat feigned. As someone who lied regularly in her line of work, she could tell the truths from the false. There was a hint of nervousness behind the other woman’s reaction, but it would do nothing but harm to look too far into it. “You don’t do the tours anymore, do you, cariño? He’s mostly behind the scenes these days, but that’s so funny. It’s really a small world, isn’t it?”

.

We were very disappointed to hear about her misbehavior.

This what not exactly how he remembered Reina’s reaction when they had gotten the email from Ms. McKnight just days ago. Upset, that she had been, but not for the reasons one might think. As for Jakob, he had had no attention of wasting an hour of his time in a useless school appointment. They paid the school more than enough money, in exchange of what, his children got the best education they could get, the kind that they deserved. His gaze had gotten harsher as the headmaster explained that they wouldn’t be any trace of this in Lucia’s file. Permanent record. A stain. One that would be hard to smudge. One that could keep Lucia from getting places.

Once again, the man had fallen silent. Reina’s silver tongue was ever so efficient after all.

Unlike his wife, he had not taken notice of the little child in the photograph, not until they had started to talk about it. Jakob might have not seen the use of having that professor wrapped around their little finger, but he trusted that his wife was making the right call. He did not refrain a fond smile at the mention of their youngest daughter. They were rays of sunshine in an otherwise grey sky. How he loved his daughters.

With his wife’s gaze on him, Jakob didn’t know anymore how wise it would have been to keep pushing, and although it was now obvious to him that the woman on the other side of the desk was lying,  the reason behind those lies was a mystery to him. Who was she, really?

His wife’s question forcing him to focus on her instead, he reached out to put his hand on her knee, wondering if that called for a reply on his end. “Not anymore no. Unless it’s a special occasion,” such as the birth of a panda, the kind of event that brought all the town’s elite to his workplace. Could it have been that this was when he’d seen her? He doubted it. The school might have been prestigious, it didn’t seem the woman was married, and had she been married to someone who mattered, then he would have known that. As for her daughter’s love for red pandas, he certainly was not impressed. How spectacular, a child drawn to a cute animal. Why she felt like this was something worth sharing, he simply did not know. Small talk, the bane of his life.

“Such a small world indeed,” a smile on his face, he looked at the headmaster. “If everything is good, perhaps should we get going? Let’s not keep you away from Clara any longer, shall we?”

.

She’d never wanted to get out of a meeting more than she did for this one. However, she wasn’t letting Lucia off simply because she happened to have slept with her father. That wouldn’t have been appropriate behavior and she still couldn’t believe herself - believe what was unfolding in front of her, even if it seemed as though Jakob’s wife had no idea about what had happened. Sarah was hardly naïve enough to believe that she couldn’t sense some sort of tension in the room. She liked to think of herself as a fairly composed person, but this wasn’t something that she could have thought up at all. 

“Of course.” She nodded again to Reina’s words. “It is my job to be understanding, after all.” Understanding, sometimes too accommodating, apparently the sort to be entranced and tricked by your husband... she shook her head. This would be fine - she’d just have to get Jakob by himself and come forward with the real reason she knew him and he knew her. Except her statement hadn’t been a lie - they had gone to the zoo (before back to her home and her bed) and Clara did adore the red pandas, though she’d never met Jakob (and maybe she never would). “Clara is quite sweet herself, I think I got lucky - and seems as though you did as well.”  She glanced at the photo, “does she?” Sarah smiled, running her fingers against the photograph before she refocused on the couple in front of her.

“It must be it.” She bit her lip, shrugging, hoping that didn’t make either of them question anything too much - or too much more, since her explanation might have not been as satisfactory as they might have wanted. “It was not a tour - we just must have passed by.” Except it had been a tour, a promise to see the zoo exclusively, and then he couldn’t keep his hands off of her and though she didn’t consider herself one to usually do one-night-stands, that whole idea had gone right out the window that night, because she could still remember just how charming he’d been, and how nice the attention had felt, especially when she would have figured that he would have chosen someone else in the bar to speak to.

“She is quite alright, a girl in my building watches her.” Sarah nodded, “though your concern is appreciated.”

“I wonder if that’s something universal or if it’s just this town and its people,” constant change was a good way to sum up New York City, after all.

He wasn’t sure creativity was the word for this activity. People seeking fame while doing uninteresting deeds in front of a camera might have not been his idea of creativity, no. “There’s no passion behind it. They just want to get famous and rich.” Capitalism rewritten for teenagers. He could have tried to make money from his violin or his playing soccer, but hobbies weren’t meant to become a source of income to him. He feared that too much of either would make him sick of it. What would he have done for fun then?

“Of course. They see people making a lot of money doing things that seem completely ordinary,” no effort and a promise of success. He could see why this could appeal to some. That had never been his thing. Maybe this was why he rejected it. Hard work and smart work were what he aspired to do. “I suppose. There’s no harm done, but if you ask me, they are delusional.”

He remained in the doorway for a while, looking around her kitchen. It was a lot busier than his own, although it didn’t feel overwhelming. Perhaps this was how his own should have looked like. It had a homely feel to it. “I’m sure those people are capable of being objective. I trust their word,” he smiled, looking down as he felt something moving past him just in time to watch the small child run and get a hold of her mother’s leg. “As you like. I really don’t want to imp-” Yup, he was repeating himself. “Okay, alright.”

.

“I’ve lived here my whole life, so I do not know if I’m qualified to comment on that.” She gave a small shrug, “but this city does certainly find itself quite adept to change.”

“Well, in fairness, this describes a number of my students, even those who have not chosen to display themselves all over social media platforms.” She smiled again. There was no malice to her words - she knew that the students in her school had high aspirations - they’d been told they could be anything, and they took that very much to heart. She saw it as admirable, though she also knew that helping children who would have no issue getting everything they could ever want certainly made her want to help more at the juvenile detention center - to help people who needed it more than her students.

That didn’t do anything to diminish the love that she held for them - even if she knew some people said it made it easy to walk all over her. She didn’t like to think that was the case - after all, she’d grown up attending a school very similar to the one she now worked at. She knew how people worked here. Knew that some genuine kindness was more than the children were afforded at home, where they might easily be ignored by their parents. “I wholly respect your opinion, and of course I wish for them to do more than that, but if it keeps them amused, I’m going going to yell at them for it.” 

She matched his smile. “This is true, but those people will always have a bias and never are bothered by hearing that other people think she is a great person.” As if on cue, Clara appeared in a flash and wrapped herself around Sarah’s leg. “Good. We’ve got some scones and cookies Clara helped me make,” she ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair, “though I promise we keep things very clean. She had her own tasting bowl and everything.”

“I wonder what my parents put in their photo albums these days,” he realized as he said it that he knew what you could find there. Pictures of his sister’s family, her husband, their kids, the pretty house in the suburbs where they celebrated Aïd this year. Yeah, that must have been what was in their photo album these days.

“Influencers, right.” The name drew a frown from him. He understood those kids who thrived on attention, compliments, the illusion of being someone important, someone who mattered. Now that was something he had not cared for in a while. Blending in the mass had always been his lot, and he wasn’t about to try to get the spotlight. Keeping his life simple had done him good so far, and he worried that something might happen if he let people closer, if he let them shine their light on him. Maybe was it why he felt most comfortable with those that had also dimmed out the light. Syndicate members, of course, but also Nora, who despite a volcano sleeping under her skin, no longer let it be seen. And yet, it was as she let out small traces of warmth that he felt most comfortable. His eyes staring blankly at the violin case, Ibrahim had hints of a smile curling his lips now. “They don’t harm anyone, and they’ll probably grow out of it,” either way, a psychiatrist would make lots of money on their backs.

“Clara, also a great person, yes,” he agreed, picking up the case to follow her behind. “Are you sure she won’t simply keep on spying us from around the corner?” Once again, his eyes caught sight of the little girl, and this time, he gave her a wink, that brought a sonorous giggle out of her. Talk about discretion. “Oh no, don’t worry. Tea is perfect. I don’t want to impose myself.”

.

“I find that things like that are constantly changing.” She hummed, though she didn’t ask if he had an inkling. After all, she certainly didn’t want to push too far. She liked Ibrahim’s company and she found that she didn’t especially want to push him away, and asking too many questions could possibly do that.

She couldn’t help but grin at his frown. “Listen, I will confess to not understanding it, but you know, if they use that as a route to channel their creativity, then who am I to fault them?” Sarah gave a small shrug. Certainly she knew that many of the teenagers who were going that route didn’t need any of the things that being an influencer afford them, but at the same time, if they enjoyed it, she certainly couldn’t find it in herself to fault them. She’d never craved the spotlight herself - one of the many reasons why she hadn’t gone to become a lawyer or surgeon or anything of the sort - she might have liked the jobs themselves but being called a hero wasn’t something she needed. “They likely will, though I have been told that this is a proper job some consider.” Another shrug. “If it makes them happy, I see no issue.”

He seemed to appreciate her daughter and that only served to continue to make her warm up to him. “Some say one of the best people, but some of those people are related to her, so...” She glanced over her shoulder, pleased that she hadn’t scared him off. “Up for debate, guess we’ll have to see.” She heard the giggle and bit her lip to suppress a smile. “You positive? It wouldn’t be an imposition, all the food already exists.” She flicked on the kettle to boil the water.

—

“Really?” Lola’s brows shoot up underneath her bangs. “That’s really impressive — I’ve never heard of students being happy with anything before.” 

She herself hadn’t been, back then; always something prison-like to places like this. Set expectations to mold yourself to, and become. 

“Lola,” her turn to offer, along with a hand, “the menace.” She can’t recall shaking anyone else’s hand before, outside of work. “Can I do it anyway? It’s sort of sexy and mysterious — I write for Vogue, so trust me, that is totally the vibe for 2021.”

Spotting a Sharpie’d doodle along the wooden trim of the trophy stand, Lola inches in, trying to rub it with a thumb. “Not to put my foot in my mouth here, but — what makes someone want to be headmaster?” Over her shoulder, she glances back at Sarah. “Faith in the youth?”

“Well - I think so. The students seem to be happy enough, and I try to make this into as good of an environment as I can.” Of course she understood perfectly well that nothing was guaranteed, and that many of the students in the school had high expectations pushed onto them at home, but she liked to believe that she made the school as much of an enjoyable place as was possible.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lola. Though I do not think you are quite so much of a menace. Or, perhaps, you are simply hiding it rather well.” She shook the woman’s hand, adding, “I mean - you can, though it still feels rather formal, but I do suppose Vogue knows what it is talking about.” A pause, as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Though I do not think either of those words is so often used to describe me, so thank you.”

The mention of a scavenger hunt did it, it lured Nora out of the kitchen, and she flashed a bright grin at Sarah. “That’s my girl– pardon, my girls.” Green orbs shifted to the little girl and honest to God, something in her chest shifted. “Sarah– she’s little you.” Yes, Nora. Children by default were smaller version of their parents, whether they liked it or not. Her voice of reason carried a more playful tone, though, and Nora caught herself biting the inside of her cheek. Not physically of course, but in the way the girl held herself. A bit shy at first glance but with a curious spark in her eyes, bright and wide; in the way she sat down too, gracefully– a perfect little lady. “She’s so precious,” and she also reminded her of the girl Sarah herself had been. The prettiest, kindest, wittiest creature Nora had known. The brunette swallowed a lump in her throat– not today, sappy satan. ”Hello Clara, you’re– lovely,” for the lack of better words Nora uttered, reaching out her hand. Did children shake hands? Stay tuned, we’re about to find out. Now, as far as Sarah went, what was appropriate? Another handshake? A hug? What if it was too awkward, and she ruined the mood? Instead, Nora went for… finger guns. “If I don’t poison,” she mouthed the word poison because kids these days were traumatized enough as it was. “… You tonight with my food, I’m expecting you two to repay me with a good ol’ scavenger hunt. But tonight, make yourself comfortable!” Nora opened her arms; as children they weren’t allowed to be in the restaurant by themselves or touch much, but now it was all theirs, which was a perfect opportunity to indulge the fantasies of their younger selves. 

“Mm, I might have led you to believe I was good at everything I did, to impress you, get you to think highly of me. In reality–” she couldn’t help a chuckle as she returned to the kitchen to get their food. “I was stubborn, wouldn’t quit until I got it right. Then, I’d call you to tell you all about it, all excited.” Despite having been a headache-causing, trouble-seeking rascal as a child, the adventures of young Nora never failed to being a smile to the doctor’s lips and Nora reminisced about those years with gentle fondness. Those were better times, happier, more peaceful. More innocent, for sure.

Nora had always been a certain source of absolute and utter light in Sarah’s life. Though the two of them certainly had their differences, and though Sarah liked to think of herself as a relatively positive person, there was something about Nora that had always been more enchanting and beautiful than anything Sarah had been able to do herself. “She is at that, somehow.” She pulled Clara closer to her for a moment. “She absolutely is precious,” her daughter beamed for a moment, looking up wide-eyed at Nora. As she was addressed, she gave the other woman a small wave, before taking Nora’s one hand with both of her own. 

“Hi! You’re pretty.” She responded to Nora, her own face lighting up, mirroring an expression Sarah herself had worn many years ago.

Sarah couldn’t help but grin at the finger guns - it was awkward, just a little, certainly, but it was almost a relief that despite the fact that they were both clearly pleased to be there, they were both feeling at least a little bit awkward. “Well, if you do poison us, at least you’re trained in medicine, so we should be safe.” She laughed, then - light, simple, easy. This was good. This was very much what she needed, and Clara was already staring around the room wide-eyed, which confirmed that her choice to come out had been a good one. “We’ll give you the best scavenger hunt ever, if that’s the case.” Clara nodded emphatically. 

reinacervantes​:

The call into the headmaster’s office was something Reina had been bracing herself for, yet when it came, she was still slightly caught off guard by it. Lucia was a rebel - the perfect mix of both her parents, there was really no lack of troublemaking in the Cervantes-Müller household, but she was also a hard-worker. Reina made sure of that, considering the option of being sent to the best school money could buy wasn’t an option in her own upbringing. She wanted nothing but the best for their daughters, and the fact that could have jeopardized that angered the Spaniard. The cheating wasn’t the problem, it was the fact she got caught and risked her position in the city’s most prestigious academy. Sure, they had connections, but she didn’t wish to always fall back on them.

As soon as her husband began to speak, she turned to him, dark eyes examining the man carefully. She was pleased he was finally speaking up… about fucking time. She didn’t mind that she did most of the talking in most situations, but it was nice to have back-up. “See, that’s exactly what I was thinking. She’s had a perfect record otherwise, right? I see no harm in just letting it go. She won’t do it again… I’ll make sure of it.” Well, she’ll make damn sure Lucia didn’t get caught next time.

It seemed as though Sarah McKnight had a similar point of view on the issue at hand, and that appeased her immensely, plus the talk of their daughter’s excellence was simply an extra boost to her ego. Still, there was an energy in the air that felt strange… as if there was something going on that she didn’t quite know about. “Gracias, Ms. McKnight. I’m glad you agree. Our Lucia really is a good girl, I suppose she just fell into the wrong crowd. You know how kids can be. You have kids… right? I thought I spied a baby photo on your desk just now.”

.

Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t care for convincing the woman that their daughter was an angel, that she would behave and never cause trouble anymore, but he had other things on his mind. Things that kept him from focusing on the reason why they were here in the first place.

He had seen this woman before. He knew that. While the two women had been talking, the German man had tried to review each and every encounter he had had with people in the past few years. Clearly, he wouldn’t have remembered her face had she not had some sort of importance to him. His eyes fixed on a particularly boring spot of her desk, he had tried to make sense of the situation.

She couldn’t have been a business partner, and she couldn’t have been part of either the Syndicate or the Brotherhood either. Reina would have never allowed their children to be in a wolf’s den. A customer at the clinic? He did treat people’s pets once in a while. Sure, it wasn’t what he did most of the time, but he could have met her then. That must have been it. There must have had been something challenging about the procedure. That’s why he remembered her face.

“My apologies,” Lucia’s case was settled anyway. A clean slate, and the promise that she wouldn’t ever get caught again - sorry, the promise that she would never cheat again. Jakob gave his wife a glance. Whatever it was he would say next, he wanted her to be quiet, and he had never been one to cut people off. Not people he respected at least. “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

Jakob didn’t like not knowing things. Information was what made a man powerful, and not knowing who she was, well, he might as well been sitting here in his birth day suit that he wouldn’t have felt so powerless. “It’s been -” he sat up, his shoulders tense, “bothering me since I stepped in here.” Running a finger under his shirt’s collar, he locked eyes with the headmaster. If he was right, he’d soon be delighted to hear about her insignificant identity.

.

Cheating was hardly the greatest or most scandalous thing that Sarah had to deal with, though it was one of the most common. Lucia was smart, but even the smartest and most well-meaning of students sometimes took the purported easier way out. It also seemed that her parents didn’t see any point in further discussion, and under most circumstances she might have pushed a bit more, but Jakob’s sudden appearance had unsettled her at least a bit. He hadn’t said anything about being married (she never would have done anything with him, were that the case), and since he’d never attended school events or come to do paperwork for his daughters (his three daughters), she’d never made that connection either.

“I can organize an exception, yes. Though we would still like for her to resubmit the assignment she cheated on. She can have the time she needs, but as of now it stands as an incomplete.” She readjusted some of the pens in the container on her desk. “That is it. Hand in something new and all her own, and it will be like this never happened.”

“One, yes. She’s two.” That much made her smile, and she couldn’t help but push the framed photo a little more in their direction. “Clara. Though she’s only in daycare so other than wanting juice when she should have water, there is not much else I have to worry about. Your Lucia is a good kid, who knows - maybe she’ll help some people improve their own standings.” She flashed Reina another smile.

Except that Jakob was apparently insistent on figuring out where he knew her from. “I -” she faltered at his comments. Of course he knew her and of course she knew him, but the circumstances under which the pair knew one another were hardly proper to discuss here. “You work for the zoo, correct? I have been by. Must be that.” She broke his gaze, thumb rubbing against a ring on her forefinger. “Clara loves the red pandas especially.”

Nora had come in possession of the keys to her parents' restaurant (read: stolen them while they were too busy obsessively following the newest episode of whatever telenovela was the hottest in their circle of friends and relatives).

It was a Christian holiday, one of the smaller ones, but the restaurant was closed nonetheless and Nora saw it as a perfect opportunity to sneak into the kitchen and do some magic, let herself be creative but not too much (her mamá would’ve killed her on the spot). Now, she could dine alone, but where was the fun in that?

Her parents’ restaurant specializing in Cuban cuisine brought back most childhood memories, as well as the sense of familiarity, warmth and innocence. And usually it made her think of one person in particular. Their paths had drifted apart, Nora'd ended up entangled in thorns, but Sarah couldn’t have had it easy either. Either way, a proper reunion was due so Nora, all determined, reached out and received a positive response, somewhat unexpectedly. Somewhat, because Sarah was the nicest person Nora had ever encountered, and it would’ve taken a lot for her to say no. That was why Nora had decided to put some extra effort into the dinner itself but also tried to create a nice atmosphere too, decorate the interior and bring some entertainment for Sarah’s daughter, too. The trinklet sounded, announcing her guests’ arrival and Nora wearing her mother’s tackiest apron peaked through the round kitchen window and greeted with a wave, a soft smile instinctively lighting up her features.

“Hey, you two! Come on in, the dinner is almost ready, just follow the smell of beef, tomato and peppers!” A chuckle. “I’ll be right with you, just need to get rid of the evidence first! I may or may not be here illegally.” Old habits die hard.

.

She could still remember the first time she and her parents had gone to the restaurant. She hadn’t even been able to see over the counters, she’d sat with her legs curled under herself in order to be able to act more adult at the table, but the best part had been the other little girl who had been there. Who Sarah and promptly introduced herself to, which wasn’t typical, she tended to stay off to the side, to observe, but there was something about the other girl that had made her talk - and then her parents started taking her to the restaurant more often and soon she and Nora had become quite close.

They hadn’t stayed in touch to the degree that she might have liked, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t still think about the other woman from time to time - hope that she was well, that she was making the best life for herself that was possible. So when she’d gotten a message from her friend she’d immediately agreed - not a single ounce of hesitation present. Of course Clara had been thrilled, though she was only two and was an easily excitable child to start with, but she’d taken it as a good sign.

They’d arrived at the restaurant and it felt so much like home - comforting and inviting and warm, and Sarah had picked up Clara and entered, the door making the same sound as it had all those years ago to announce their entry. “Hey.” She smiled at Nora, “we’re good at scavenger hunts, so this’ll be easy for us. It’s quite an honor to get the special sneaky treatment. Brings me back to us being about - what was it - thirteen, fourteen? My cooking’s gotten better since then, at least.” She set Clara down and gave Nora a wave. “You were always good at everything you did, though.”

“I don’t know if smartphones make it easier. People take so many photos, they forget they took them.” People didn’t print pictures any longer, didn’t make photo albums anymore, and so they forgot. Ibrahim sometimes wished bad memory was something he could have been cursed with, but instead he remembered a lot of things, even those little bits of his life that he wished to leave behind him. “Not my mother though. She still has an old fashioned camera, and she goes to the photographer to get them developed. So old-fashioned,” so endearing. He wasn’t smiling, but the way his eyes wrinkled when he spoke of her told more than words.

He didn’t comment on parents putting pictures of their children online. Most people were a bit too stupid to be trusted with social media, but saying that out loud might not exactly help his image with his violin tutor.

“People would do about everything for a bit of recognition, wouldn’t they?” he didn’t understand that. Not anymore. There was a time where he did all he could to get his parents attention, but it turned out he didn’t have to do anything in particular to get it. You didn’t need to impress the people who mattered most, as weird and ironic as it might have been.

“People need to get over themselves. Raisins are great and you can put that on my tombstone,” being raised in an Algerian family meant that you’d find raisin in just about any dish possible, savory or sweet. What he didn’t get, was the obsession with chocolate chips in everything. “See, I knew you were a great person,” he pointed his index in her direction, a smile plastered on his face. Alright, it took more than raisins for him to trust someone, but that was a good start already.

The wink caught him off guard. Scratching at his cheek, he shook his head. “Tea’s fine. Please.” Just like that, she’d managed to make him feel extremely small. “Ibrahim’s good, yeah.”

.

“I think it just makes it easier to take photos in the moment, but I do agree that it makes them more likely to just forget. You do not always have to think as much about exactly what photo you take because you can take dozens and just choose your favorite.” She wrapped a strand of hair around her fingers, nodding as he mentioned his mother. “My parents are the same, actually.” She glanced away from him for a moment, “though they did get a digital camera a bit ago, but they liked to take time and still make up photo albums. Thankfully they’ve moved beyond needing to make them for me and my daughter’s become the center of their attention.” Quite a bit so, but it was endearing, and given that Sarah had never been someone to desperately crave attention, she found it much better for her daughter to get it. 

“People do a great deal for recognition. I mean, I have more than a few students who wish to grow up to be ‘influencers’ - and, well - a few who already are, despite not even being eighteen.” She gave a small shrug. “I mean, I support any endeavor that my students wish to take on, but I will admit that is one of the ones I do not understand as well as some others.”

She couldn’t help but let another grin cross her lips. “I knew you were a great person too. Clara seemed to have somehow inherited the raisin love despite - well, despite her not being biologically mine.” Sarah stood up and moved toward the kitchen, “you’re welcome to follow me - though Clara might join us, so it’s up to you. I can probably get some food together too, if you’d like that. Entirely up to you.”

Oh is right. It takes Lola aback, and if you ask her, rightfully so — no resemblance between the woman in front of her and whoever had been her headmaster, back then; someone lame, and straight out of a cheesy flick surely, where physical unattractiveness posed as some sort of metaphor for what the protagonist is set out to overcome.

But she’d never been into those movies, nor had she ever been a protagonist. Lola wouldn’t know a cliché if it smacked her in the face.

“Shut up. Wow.” Never would Lola have told a headmaster to shut up, if not for this instance only. But it’s out there — and it’s deserved. “…Now I’m kind of really jealous of whoever gets to attend this place, now. Have you been to the main hall? You could beat any of them by a landslide.” Back to the trophies, Lola’s gaze wanders through every award, every name that claims them. “I’m supposed to be there, technically — but I figured I should make my high school self proud and skip this, too.” Out of the corner of her eye, Lola glances back at the (still nameless) headmaster. “…No punishments for alumni, right?” 

She’d been headmaster for a decent while now, but not when the woman in front of her had gone here - though they couldn’t have missed one another by more than a couple years, if her calculations were correct. The one before her had been much older than she was - as most other headmasters at nearby schools still were. Sarah had never seen it as an issue, even if it did get her more than a few glances.

“I think that’s something moms have in common,” his mother always insisted that they took pictures whenever he stopped by now. Maybe was she scared that he’d vanish again and wanted a souvenir of the last time she’d seen him. He tried not to think about it. She seemed happy about it, much like Sarah seemed to be completely invested in documenting her daughter’s every moment in the world. “Nature and kids, we have different camera rolls,” his own wasn’t exactly as innocent, although for the most part it consisted of pictures of recipes, the result of said recipes, pictures of things he probably should be buying but didn’t want to commit on buying, the odd pictures of something he found beautiful then.

“Oh, huh. I-” He cut himself off to listen to her speak. Her politeness made him smile. There weren’t a lot of people like that around here, he found. He took note of it, telling himself that he would try his best to watch his mouth around her. It was probably the wise thing to do around a toddler anyway. “I’m glad my parentlessness doesn’t make me a heathen to you,” he joked, nodding along as she offered that he stayed for a cup of coffee or a cup of tea. “I would like that, sure. Is it okay if I call you Sarah?” Putting down the violin case, he sat back down.

.

“Probably.” She couldn’t help but grin. “I mean, my mom took photos and videos of be, though smart phones weren’t a thing when I was a kid, so I do think that parents today have even easier access to things that document their children’s lives. So much so that many even put their children on display for the whole internet. I never quite understood that, but to each their own.” She shrugged. Perhaps she was too private, but she’d never understood the need that some seemed to have to parade their children around. She was content with letting Clara be Clara, and sure, she took photos and sent them to people she cared about, but that was that. Though she was pleased that Clara’s daycare had asked to use her photo on their website. “Those are just what I find beautiful - everyone has a different view of what is beautiful.” A small shrug. 

“Never. You are kind, Clara seems rather entranced by you already, so why on earth would I ever consider you a heathen?” She bit her lip. “Besides, I always loved oatmeal raisin cookies which is considered pretty much on heathen level to many so I don’t think I’m in the place to judge.” Sarah smiled. “I would like that too. For all that I love her, a two-year-old’s company is much different than that of another adult, and I am a bit starved for that sort of company - not that - this isn’t a pity invite or anything of the sort, but I just - well, thank you for accepting the offer. What would you like, I have... quite a bit of both. Hot chocolate too, if that is your preferred drink.” She winked. “Yes, please. Sarah is more than okay. May I call you Ibrahim?”