#findingtallahassee

It started as a required class project between two high schools, the two co-ed private schools in the city, one catholic, one jewish. It was supposed to create and understanding between the two of the schools, a requirement which none of the high school juniors were looking forward to, not under the pressure of their looming futures already.

They were all randomly assigned names, along with a brief fact sheet about the person  

David drew a name which sounded like it should have been at his Catholic school, Mary Margaret. She seemed to be involved in as many clubs and societies as possible, she was even head girl, reading her last name made him realise that this must be the daughter of the rich businessman his uncle often did business with at his law firm.

And Mary Margaret found herself being forced to write to some high school jock, he seemed to get good grades, but he was a jock nonetheless, David was his name. Apparently he was a twin, she wondered if it was true that one twin was evil, probably not.

Their letters started off normal, fairly boring really, mostly asking what each other's’ schools were like, their likes and dislikes in school, hobbies, pretty much the things off of the list.

Then one day David began to doodle on the side of the notice, he thought about throwing the note in the trash and starting over, but instead he wrote what he had barely been able to admit to himself ‘I am terrified of growing up and working at my uncle’s law firm.’ He mailed it and immediately regretted it.

But the next reply container three letters. One was a continuation of their previous correspondence, the second simply said ‘why?’ And the third was a confession of Mary’s own ‘I can’t wait to move as far away from this town as I possibly can’.

From that moment on their letters became much more personal, they told each other the secrets they couldn’t tell anyone they knew in real life, it felt safer like this, somehow. Their letters were also in the form of postcards from their favourite places, or places they went on field trips, photos of different things or places or just of themselves, David’s artistic doodles and Mary’s stickers, she was never the best at drawing. David had stored the letters in a boxes next to his bed, and the photos and postcards were all stuck on the walls surrounding his bed, while Mary kept them all in a box, safe and hidden.

The letters went on and on and on, longer than others in their schools managed to maintain theirs, they learnt about each other’s religions and traditions, culture, and holy days, but more importantly they learnt about each other and about themselves.

Mary wasn’t expecting mail when she checked the mailbox, but inside was a postcard, a picture of the renowned pizzeria in town, on the other side was David’s block capital writing.

“Pizza, Friday, 7:30, I’ll pick you up?”

She rushed inside finding a postcard in the stack she had bought online.

‘I can’t wait x’

She posted it straight away, and as she waited for Friday to come, she realised that she was in love with a guy she had never met in real life.

Jesus.

She was in love.

It had been a couple of months since the girl had joined their team, and a few weeks since she’d met Alice in the woods. Killian smiled as he recounted how she’d later spoken to him privately about their evening together, recalling the giddiness in her eyes once she’d finished her story but still rambled about Alice’s goodness and strength. Since then, he’d encouraged Robin to visit his daughter, believing both girls needed a friend between their new homes and increasing freedom.

They wandered in silence, Killian waiting for Robin’s breathing to even and her muscles to relax. Then, just as he sensed her wishing to fill the awkward quiet, he cleared his throat. “I want to start by thanking you for being so kind and supportive to Alice. To me, she’s perfect, but of course I’m her father. From what I’ve heard from the villagers nearby, she’s ‘the crazy girl’ and it’s not hard to see you’re the first person outside of me that doesn’t believe that to be the case. Even Henry thinks she’s a bit eccentric, though based on their first meeting I can’t blame him.

But,” he continued, the word more firm than his last, “just as your mother worries about your safety, I worry about hers. Truth be told, I am concerned about yours, as well.”

“I’m fine,” Robin replied, and though he could hear that same force, an uneasy quake cracked her previous toughness. “I’m—”

“Love, please do not remind me yet again of your age. I’m 240, give or take, so truly I don’t see the point in bringing it up. I understand in your realm, or in parts of it, it signifies a milestone, but if there’s a constant need to remind others of your maturity simply through throwing out a number, then you have not convinced them enough on your own actions to treat you like an adult.”

He could almost feel her glow crimson with embarrassment and rage, but he kept his voice steady and urged them to continue on, grateful the path was abandoned save for them. “You have done a lot, for us and for Alice. However, in a place like this which is still largely foreign to you and in times like these where violence can break out at any moment, asserting your independence regardless of the feelings of others is not the best way to go about convincing anyone you’re ready for that independence. Even I at my age am careful to let our people know where I’m going and give an idea of how long I will be away. It’s courtesy. One you may still need to learn.”

“That’s bull—”

“If you swear at me, Robin, this conversation is over,” Killian warned, voice light but stern. “Instead, I’d think it best to channel that anger into something more productive.” He pulled out a dagger and handed it to her, then gestured with his head toward a large oak tree. “How about you practice your throwing skills? I’ll stay nearby but, unless needed, keep quiet so you can think.”

Robin grabbed the dagger, looking at its polished handle before arching an eyebrow at him. “Why do I feel like this is some weird sort of timeout?”

“Because you’re not wholly incorrect, but I’d also like to know you are skilled in multiple weapons and can use them in multiple ways if you happen to run into trouble while on your own or with Alice and for any reason you cannot use your bow.”

Killian saw the rising signs of defiance in her features and wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when they soon fell away and she wandered closer to the tree, readying her stance. Her need for independence was still rivaled by her need to prove herself, and he hoped the repetitive action and tranquility of the area would do her some good.

He found stump closeby and settled on it, keeping from critiquing her movements. Practice or not, the point of the exercise this time, he knew, was more mental than physical. The first several throws missed the mark, and she growled in impatient frustration so like he’d witnessed from others her age. Yet, with a sense of pride, he saw she repeatedly went back to get the dagger, soon taking deep breaths and trying again.

The next few times she failed to pierce the bark with the blade, but at least got close. A few more deep breaths and a few more tries, and after long last she managed to lodge the blade into the flesh of the tree. “Yes!” she whooped, victorious arms pumping into the sky, and Killian couldn’t help chuckling.

“Very good, lass.” He rose and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks.” Her face flushed again, though this time with pride. “And, I guess I do feel better.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He surveyed where they were, how close they were to the new cottage he and the others had managed to help find Alice, and a quick flash of longing washed over him. Robin glanced back, catching hints of the cottage through the trees, and gave him a melancholy smile.

“If it’s alright with you, I can check in on her? Maybe she has another letter written? I know it’s between scheduled trips, but, since we’re so close…”

The corners of Killian’s lips tugged up at her request for permission. “Aye, love. I don’t see any harm in it.”

“Thanks. And, uh...can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”