Chapter Text
A wadded up ball of paper flies across the classroom, launched from somewhere in the back, landing right on the ground just inches from Sara’s feet. Lifting her eyes upwards and away from the book propped in her lap, Sara takes in the class in front of her, noting the rather guilty look currently sitting on Jake’s face where he sits in the back row. “Alright,” Sara sighs out, shuffling her feet currently resting on the desk, “Who wants to remind me what the rule is about throwing notes in my classroom?”
The question is met with silence and Sara can’t help but look back to Jake once more who is adamantly avoiding eye contact with her. It doesn’t surprise her that he doesn’t want to claim what he just did, it was a terrible throw. In the front row, Darcy raises her hand in the air and Sara rolls her eyes before nodding her head at the girl. “Darcy we’ve been over this,” Sara reminds her student, “You can just blurt it out, we don’t have to raise hands in here.”
It’s a rule that Sara is a big proponent of so long as students are respectful of others and never cut each other off. Sometimes hand raising gets in the way of a flowing conversation and besides, there is no hand raising in the real world and the students have to learn that someway or another. “Sorry, we just came from Miss Sharpe’s class,” Darcy remarks, retracting her hand from the air and Sara hums because that makes sense, Sharpe always is a stickler for the rules, “But your rule is that if we’re going to throw paper, at least make the throw accurate.”
That is indeed the rule and Sara nods her head, pleased that Darcy has remembered. This is only week two of school and sometimes the newer students do need a bit of a reminder about these things. “Precisely,” Sara says, removing her feet from the desk and looking out at her class filled with freshman students, “Now Darcy, seeing as I have your captive attention, tell me three facts from the reading you all did last night on Jackson Pollock.”
As Darcy begins, Sara leans back in her chair and takes in the information. This is a brand new school year and as always, Sara finds herself teaching art in last period to the new freshman. It’s an elective course, one that the students get to choose, and this year there had been so much interest that Sara teaches one class of just freshman and another class of mixed grades. All new students mean all new names to memorize, and so far Sara has only a few of them down, usually the names of students who either participate the most, or who get in trouble the most. So she’s made them write their names on tags that stick to their shoulders so she can tell who is who.
This is Sara’s third time having this class, and already she knows they’re a good group, even if she has only known them a short amount of time. Like the other teachers here, Sara teaches about two to three classes a day on a rotating schedule. Her Mondays are the same as her Wednesdays, Tuesdays the same as Fridays, and Thursdays alternate off. That schedule keeps things easy, and this is the class that Sara teaches on Mondays and Wednesdays.
This class is either made up of great kids or it’s only their second week and nobody has gotten brave enough to really show their ass just yet. Sara certainly hopes that it’s the former because she has never been one to enjoy disciplining the kids. Her senior classes tend to be the ones that involve more reprimands due to the fact that most of the seniors have mentally checked out and the last thing they want to go over is art theory. But Sara tries to keep the assignments light and relatively fun.
This class however, this is just an intro class where they’ll be painting in the style of a different artist each week, and this week happens to be Jackson Pollock, something the students always love. Once Darcy is done, Sara hums and nods her head, brushing her hands along her soft blue overalls and removing some of the paint dust that’s settled there. “That is right Darcy good job, those are all true facts,” Sara begins and then stands from her seat, “But this class isn’t just about learning the literature, it’s about really trying to step into the method of different painters. So, if you want to come with me, I have arranged for our class to be outside today.”
Sara’s aware that this is not the conventional way to teach an art class, but she wants her students to find something about art that makes them happy. Not everybody was built to just sit and draw out sketches for the day, and while Sara makes them keep a sketching journal they all work on for the first minutes of class, she never forces them to draw something specific. It’s worked in the past, this method of pushing students to try different creative perspectives, and clearly the students never seem to mind it.
Already they’re talking amongst themselves as Sara grabs the box of art coats and begins towards the door. Her classroom is right at the end of the hallway, conveniently placed by the doors leading to the outdoor sports courts. This is where they’ll go from time to time during the semester when working with more messy styles, and today is certainly the kind of style that has required a bit of set up. This afternoon Sara had set up a little scaffolding project there that would allow students to hang and swing paint cans as well as ladders to allow them to splash paint down as Pollock had done with his art.
“Alright, everyone to the basketball court and don’t touch anything yet,” Sara instructs as she holds the door open, letting her students slide past her and out the doors. It’s a nice day out, perfectly sunny and not so hot that wearing the coats to keep paint off clothing is going to be a burden. This is the kind of weather that Sara had been hoping for, she really needed it to not rain today. “Jake,” Sara calls out, already watching as he’s approaching the cans of paint to the side, “Look but don’t touch, only I get to open those after what happened last week.”
Last week some of the students had offered to help Sara open the paints and organize some things around the classroom and it went well until Jake had tried to open a can with a bit more force than was necessary. As a result, the lid had popped off at an angle and had gotten paint all over the wall of the classroom that thankfully did not contain the artwork of other students. They might be outside today, but Sara does not want a repeat of that.
She tries to keep her classroom as accident free as possible. Sometimes there are things that are unavoidable, such as the way that paint is spilled at least one a week or the way the desks sometimes get messier as the weeks go on. But Sara’s end goal is to make sure that there are no real incidents in the classroom, and a flying paint lid has the potential to do some real damage so they were lucky it only hit the wall.
Once the last student is out the door, Sara walks through as well and a smile tugs at her lips when she spots the other class that has apparently decided to take advantage of the nice weather today. It’s Ava with her senior literature class and they’re sitting over in the shade under the little grove of trees that borders both the courts and the parking lot to the right. Ava is watching Sara’s students, her glasses perched on her nose and Sara can’t help but let out a little laugh when she notices that Ava is not sitting on the bare grass but instead has a towel under her.
As always, Ava is dressed in what Sara always teasingly calls ‘business casual’. Today that means a pair of striped black pants and a silky looking white shirt that’s tucked in, Ava’s sleeves rolled to her elbows. “Sharpe,” Sara calls out as she gets closer to the trees, still grinning and taking in Ava’s surprised grey-blue eyes, “I see that I’m not the only one who has let the children out to get some much needed sun, though I can’t believe you’re spending your time out here reading.”
Instantly Sara is greeted with an eye roll and a fond smile from Ava. “We’re reading Thoreau,” Ava explains as if that is supposed to mean something to Sara, “Emily suggested that we come outside and read his works for class today, seeing as he spent most of his time writing by the pond near his house.” That does make a bit of sense, though Sara thinks maybe the students just wanted some time to be outside after a long day.
Judging by the looks on their faces as Sara scans Ava’s small fifteen student group, she thinks that her assumption might be correct. “That sounds boring,” Sara replies and she hears some of the students snickering as Ava clicks her tongue and pushes her glasses up her nose. Already Sara knows a retort is coming, Ava never lets her down when it comes to their playful teasing throughout the day and Sara always looks forward to it.
“At least we’re doing something that is a bit more intellectually stimulating than throwing paint at a canvas,” Ava retorts, her voice low and her eyes still looking up at Sara, sparkling in the bit of sunlight that dapples Ava’s face, “I understand that Pollock is renowned in the art community but I still fail to understand how something that messy and random can be considered art.”
With a small snort, Sara pushes off the tree and heads back to her group. But she does stop to throw one more smile over her shoulder, “Have fun with your dead authors Sharpe, try not to bore your students to death.” Even from here Sara can hear Ava’s laughter along with that of the students as she continues towards the courts.
Sara has been teaching here at this school alongside Ava and her other friends for six years now. It’s where Sara had originally met some of the others, and she had never imagined that she would find her closest friend group at a school that she once attended herself when she was younger. They all got close at the beginning of that original year seeing as they all share a hall here at Waverider high, and the rest was just history from there.
Ava teaches the upper level english classes as well as one of the freshman classes that some of Sara’s current students are also in. Nate teaches upper level history on the other side of Ava’s class and Ray teaches science to the younger two grades, his classroom the furthest down the hall. Zari teaches computer science to the younger grades as well, and Amaya teaches upper level math, her classroom being right next to Sara’s own. Sara’s not as close with the principal Rip, though she does like him. And finally there is Gary, the school administrative assistant and maybe one of the biggest gossips in these halls.
There are other teachers as well but their classes reside along different halls and while Sara does talk to them and is friendly with them, she’s closest with this group. Some of them Sara had even known before coming here and teaching, like Amaya. Sara had been in grad school with Amaya and they had both applied here together intentionally. In the time that they all received their jobs, the school was looking to expand their teaching base seeing as the student body was rapidly growing. Already there are far more students here than there ever were when Sara went to high school here.
It’s a great school though and Sara doesn’t see herself changing jobs anytime soon so she’s here for the long haul. “Alright,” Sara places the box of coats down on the ground and claps her hands, looking around at the eager faces of her students, “Who here is ready to make a mess?”
********************
As it turns out, her students really were just waiting to get comfortable before showing their true personalities. Some things had not been a surprise, like Jake for example. He appears to have taken on the role of the class clown and Sara was quick to let him know that there is only room for one funny person in the class, and she already holds that role. However he continues to joke around through class, making comments that have the girls that sit around him giggling, something that hasn’t failed to make Sara roll her eyes.
Then there’s Darcy who is a little Ava Sharpe in the making. She’s always citing the rules and always complaining about the messes that others make. Just this Monday Sara overheard the end of the lecture Darcy was giving Jake, something that Sara’s sure would have made Ava proud. This means that Darcy sometimes struggles getting into the more creative aspect of art, wanting to follow the instructions perfectly, and getting rather upset when Sara does not provide instructions at all. She’ll get used to it as the semester goes on, or at least Sara hopes that she will.
Sara’s favourite student might just be Patrick, simply because he reminds her of how she was when she was a freshman. He only took the class because he thought it was going to be easy and he had no qualm sharing that with her on the day that Sara had them go around the room and explain why they chose the class. Half the time, Patrick half-asses his art and still winds up creating brilliant things. Sara lets it slide though, because she can tell that he is really beginning to enjoy the class and the things they’re doing each week.
It’s now a month into the school year which means that even though the students have now revealed themselves, they’ve also settled into the class routines as well. Now there’s not anymore whining when Sara tells them to take the first five or ten minutes of class to update their sketching diaries. It also means that they’re getting into some of the more complex artists that they’ll spend more than just a single week on. This week is Van Gogh and they’ll return to him again later in the semester as well, but Sara’s rather fond of the painting they’re striving to either replicate or make their own.
This week’s focus has been ‘Starry Night’, and it might be a classic, but Sara’s always loved it. Right now she’s walking around the room, checking in on the student’s progress and getting a feel for how they’re choosing to approach the assignment. “Isn’t there a color by number I can do,” Jake whines as Sara comes to stand in front of his table and finds that he has only just begun painting silhouettes at the bottom of his art, “I’m not very good at this one.”
“Nope, no color by numbers,” Sara shakes her head with a smile as Jake sighs dramatically, “And there is no bad art, whatever you make is yours, even if it’s just a stick figure.” A few laughs spread around the room and Sara just hums before looking around. “You’re all supposed to be creating your own ‘Starry Night’ from sheer imagination, but that doesn’t mean it has to be a perfect rendering of the original,” Sara instructs, making sure her voice is loud enough that everyone can hear, “Change it up, make the sky green and the stars pink, I don’t care.”
Some of the others really are taking her advice seriously, and Sara spots Reagan to the side who is currently making a rather psychedelic version of the painting, the canvas already filled with stark contrasts in color ranging from bright yellow to a soft periwinkle blue. On the other hand, there’s Darcy who is frowning down at the canvas in front of her, pencil lines already drawn out to create her outline. “It doesn’t have to be a recreation of the original Darcy,” Sara tells the girl gently, placing her hand on her shoulder, “I just care that you make something you’re proud of. In this class you’re judged on effort, not the outcome.”
“I am making it my own,” Darcy frowns, her hazel eyes turning up to look at Sara’s own as she holds up a paint brush, “I’m using a bigger brush than I think was used in the original, so my lines and shapes are going to be a little wider than Van Gogh’s.” That’s not really what Sara meant by making it their own, but she’s learned with Darcy that the girl is going to try to create something as close to the original as possible.
Tapping Darcy’s shoulder with an amused smile, Sara steps away from her desk. “Well, call me if you need something,” Sara reminds her, “I’m just walking around but should you have the wild idea to change up a color scheme to two, just let me know.” That earns her a small smile from the student and Sara hums before continuing on. Easily Sara’s favourite part in all of this is seeing what some of her more creative students come up with.
In year’s past, Sara has wound up with versions of this painting that include monochrome versions, something that was certainly interesting. Or she had a student that had completely inverted the color scale which was also fun to see. And Sara’s had students completely change the back ground silhouettes before, with one student actually making it appear as if the stars were the background of a foreign planet, little alien figurines able to be seen at the bottom. Everyone always has a different vision and a different finished product, and that is what Sara likes the best about art.
A knock comes from the door and already through the little window Sara can see Ava standing there. With a smile, Sara walks to the door and opens it just a bit, not wanting to draw the attention of her students. “Miss Sharpe,” Sara lilts, leaning her body against the frame and shamelessly taking in Ava’s outfit for the day. As always, Ava’s paired a pair of nice pants with a shirt, this time around a forest green pair of pants and a black shirt that’s tucked in, a silver belt there at her waist.
Just as they always do whenever Sara does something like that, Ava’s cheeks flush and she slaps at Sara’s hand with a small shy smile. “I see it’s Van Gogh day?” Ava muses, peeking around into the class and Sara looks over her shoulder to the table where Wren is currently working on meticulously painting her stars a vibrant red color. With a small hum, Sara rests her temple against the frame and waits for Ava to explain what she’s come across the hall for. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Ava begins and Sara’s lips lift up, “But I was hoping you have a spare stapler? I suspect Nate took mine again.”
Ava and Nate share a wall and from time to time he’ll open up the divider and raid Ava’s room for whatever office supplies he might be missing. To be fair, Ava’s done the exact same thing to him before so Sara’s learned not to take sides in their little fake feud. “You’re in luck,” Sara nudges the door open and invites Ava in, “I just so happen to have a stapler over in my desk that somehow found its way to my room the other day.”
It only found its way here because Sara had stolen it, but she leaves that part out. Over at the desk, Sara takes in the way that the room has gone quiet and all the students are looking up at the front where Sara’s desk is. “Class don’t be rude,” Sara reprimands them lightly as she walks around to open her drawer up, “Say hello to Miss Sharpe and tell her how much more awesome than her I am.”
A light laugh comes from Ava as Sara kneels down to move some things inside her desk from the side, and Sara is sure that if she looks up she’ll find Ava giving her that amused smile. “Miss Lance is letting us paint whatever we want for ‘Starry Night’,” Jake calls from the back and Sara hums, finding the stapler there and standing up once more, “She said that we could make the sky and the stars different colors if we wanted to.”
Technically Sara would prefer if they had a reason to invert certain colors, but she’s also fine with them just choosing to do so at random. “I can see that,” Ava responds, her brows raising as Sara watches her find Reagan there and her colorful painting, “There certainly are some interesting colored stars out there.”
“Miss Sharpe,” Sara whispers in a tone loud enough that the students can hear her, “We don’t say interesting, that sounds like a put down. We say that they are beautifully unique.” Ava turns over her shoulder and gives Sara a look, her brows raised and lips pursed but Sara just tilts her head to the side and smiles because that really is what they say in this room. English might be different but in art there are no wrong answers.
When Ava turns back to the class again, Sara can almost see the way that Ava is fighting against the urge to critique some of the more abstract paintings in the room. “Well they all look,” Ava pauses, her eyes turning to Sara once more, her lips lifting at the edges, “Beautifully unique.” The students are already laughing, and Sara can’t help but join in with a small smile as Ava just rolls her eyes.
Holding out the stapler to Ava, Sara intentionally lets their fingers brush along Ava’s own. It’s quite easy to fluster Ava Sharpe, and nothing makes her blush quite like a bit of subtle flirting does. Sara likes flirting with Ava because she’s gorgeous so why wouldn’t Sara put in a little bit of effort here and there. “Thank you Miss Lance,” Ava clears her throat, her cheeks already tinted a gentle shade of pink as Sara smiles proudly, “I’ll bring this back to you when I’m finished.”
Sara’s stomach has that light and fluttering feeling that always seems to rest there when she’s around Ava. “Don’t worry about it,” Sara waves Ava off as she follows her to the door, “I steal Nate’s at least once a week, that’s where the one in your hands came from.” The response comes in the form of Ava just shaking her head with that amused smile on her lips, her blue-grey eyes meeting Sara’s once more before she’s out the door. Once Ava’s gone, Sara closes the door and suddenly becomes aware of the sound of whispering behind her. “Care to make that secret public knowledge?” Sara asks, turning and finding Marcus in the back talking in hushed tones to Jake.
Instantly Marcus falls silent and he shakes his head, looking very much like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “I was just wondering if there was orange paint?” Marcus asks and Sara has to resist the urge to scoff because that is not what he was just talking to Jake about right now.
But she lets it go, casting one more look out the window to where she can see Ava sitting at her desk grading. “Let’s see if there’s some orange paint Marcus,” Sara sighs, walking to the cabinet in the back, “What kind of orange are we talking?”
********************
After long school weeks, evenings at the bar are not only a tradition but a must. “So, we made it,” Sara toasts, raising her glass out to the center of the table where the others are also holding out their shot glasses, “Another first month of school down in the books and several more months to come before we do it all again.”
A round of cheers goes around the table and Sara smiles as she knocks her glass against the others before bringing it to her lips and taking down the cherry flavoured vodka. The others all have various different drinks, all with the exception of Amaya who found out not even a month and a half ago. It was something that Sara saw coming of course, she knew that Nate and Amaya have been trying for some time and she was so happy for her friends, still is.
With her glass now on the table, Sara takes a look around the tiny bar they’re all in. This bar is one of their favourite places and it’s a location they found that first year teaching together. Somehow coming here in the evenings after long days had turned into a tradition, and it’s something that’s continued on through the years. They’re all relatively young still, and several nights have been spent getting drunker than they should and singing karaoke songs that they had no business singing.
Certainly one of Sara’s favourite nights happened last semester where Ava had a perilously long day with her english students and Sara had come to the bar late and found that Ava was a good few shots in and had been on the karaoke machine all evening long. She has videos from that night, of Ava drunkenly singing everything ranging from Frank Sinatra to Ariana Grande, and it’s a night that she is determined to never let Ava live down. At the same time though, it had been the first time in at least a month at the time where Ava had really let herself go, so Sara never teases her too much.
But now they’re here again, another evening spent coming straight here from work. Sara’s still in her outfit from the day, a pair of green checkered pants and a patterned yellow shirt. The others clearly hadn’t changed either, though Ray has removed his tie and Nate has undone the buttons of his shirt to reveal the tank underneath. “Have anyone else’s students been suspiciously good recently?” Zari asks as Sara sets her glass on the table and reaches for the water nearby, “Normally they’re pretty rowdy for me last block, but this week they were almost pleasant every single day.”
“Not my students,” Nate scoffs and Sara laughs becuae she already heard about the debacle in Nate’s third period yesterday, “They staged a minor insurrection over the paper that’s due Tuesday and said that teachers make up a ‘tyranny of the majority’ in the school and they weren’t standing for it.” Nate shakes his head as the others laugh and Sara brings her water to her lips as Nate continues, “They wanted an extension on the paper and honestly, I was just pleased that they’ve been actually doing the reading and correctly applied the downfalls of majority rule to their case.”
That is the primary reason Sara is glad that she teaches very few of the seniors on a regular basis because she would not have the patience for that. “See, this is what you get for teaching them a class on revolutions,” Sara points out and beside her Ava lets out a little laugh, “You’re practically giving them the tools they need to overthrow us, and it’s only a matter of time before those ideas spread to the other classes.”
Of course Sara is joking, her students know that if she sets a deadline, it is a fixed deadline. Sara is flexible with a lot of things already and she makes sure that her assignment dates are fair to the students. But if they were to push the limits, Sara would have no issues shutting that down. “They better not pull that shit in my class,” Zari mutters as Sara smiles over at her, “It’s literally computer science and nothing we learn is hard so you better hope that none of that spreads to my classes Nate Heywood.”
When the others laugh, Sara turns her head to the side to take in the one person who has been almost completely silent this entire evening. Ava sits on Sara’s left side, between Sara and the wall of the booth they’re all tucked in and she looks absolutely exhausted. Her head rests against the wall, her eyes nearly closing and her glasses sliding down her nose. Clearly Ava hadn’t changed from work either, though she has undone a few of the buttons of her shirt, revealing smooth and tanned skin that Sara has found it hard to pull her eyes away from this evening.
Ava’s always struggled with insomnia, and Sara knows from their conversation over coffee this morning that Ava had barely slept at all last night. She looks it now, dark circles under her eyes and her hair falling from the meticulous braid that it was back in this morning. Right as Sara is seconds from asking Ava if she wants to just go home for the evening rather than remain here, Zari cuts her off. “You still with us Aves?” Zari prompts and Sara watches as Ava’s eyes flutter open.
It’s clear that Ava had missed the most recent part of the conversation and Sara feels a smile forming at her lips as she watches Ava try to reorient herself. Light grey-blue eyes blink a few times and then Ava’s nudging her glasses back up her nose. “Yeah sorry,” Ava hums, her eyes now open as she stretches out, her elbow brushing Sara’s shoulder, “I was up really early grading papers this morning so I didn’t get much rest last night.”
Sara sympathetically lays her hand on Ava’s arm and squeezes it gently because they’ve all been there before. Though Sara’s grading is a bit more imprecise than the papers Ava has to grade. Sara’s seen the papers that Ava goes over and she doesn’t envy her for the amount of work that english assignments require. “You know some of that might be self-inflicted,” Sara points out with a playful smile as she brings her hand back into her own space, “I’m just saying, I’ve seen how detailed you are in your feedback, you could always save yourself some time and just let it go with a ‘good job’.”
“I’m not going to just say ‘good job’,” Ava rolls her eyes as the others laugh because Ava is notorious for her incredibly detailed comments that she leaves on student’s papers, “Some of them actually want to do well and I want to make sure I can give them ways to do so. That means leaving long comments and really thinking through their work.” Sara was just messing with Ava, it’s always been so easy to do, but she feels her lips lifting at the corners because Ava really was meant to do this, to be a teacher who’s there to really nurture her students.
“I had a student drop a beaker in class on Monday,” Ray interrupts, and Sara turns to him in amusement to find a grimace already there on his face, “And then he did it again on Wednesday, and again Thursday. I’m starting to think it might be on purpose.” When Amaya asks who it is, Sara thinks that she might already know the answer before Ray replies, “Jake Simmons.”
Apparently it’s not just Sara’s class that he’s troublesome in, but Sara’s come to find him amusing as time passes. “Oh it’s definitely on purpose if it’s Jake,” Zari comments as Ava shifts beside Sara. Sara turns to look at her only to find that Ava’s clearly falling asleep again. Tugging on her lightly, Sara watches as Ava opens her eyes a split second. Sara pats her own shoulder because surely that has to be more comfortable than the wall.
When Ava lays her head there on Sara’s shoulder and lets out a small sigh, Sara catches sight of Zari’s smile across the table and ignores her pointedly. Sara certainly can do without a mini-lecture from Zari about how touchy she is with Ava, it’s something that Sara already knows and doesn’t care about. Ava clearly doesn’t have an issue with it so why should Sara? Besides, she likes it when Ava leans on her shoulder like this because it almost always means that Ava loops her arm through Sara’s own and holds onto Sara’s shirt sleeve. Sara has always found it sweet when Ava does that, endearing really. “They’re also gossipy this year,” Amaya comments, drawing Sara’s attention away from the freckles over the bridge of Ava’s nose, “I keep hearing little rumors here and there that they’ve already started regarding teachers and other students.”
“They have rumors about the teachers?” Sara asks, surprised to hear that. Of course it’s not uncommon for students to speculate certain things about the lives of the teachers, certainly Sara did that when she was younger, but it is a bit surprising to hear that it’s already started. “What kinds of rumors?” Sara continues on, watching as Amaya just shrugs and looks to the others, “Well I guess that means they’re thinking about us at least but, I don’t want any rumors going around about me.”
Against Sara’s side she feels Ava shift, her cheek rubbing against Sara’s shoulder. “I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Ava murmurs as she lifts her head away, her blue-grey eyes so soft and looking so sleepy. Sara just gives her a small smile before nudging Nate from the booth beside her and letting Ava get out.
When Sara slides abck in, she watches Ava go, her head in her hands as Ava walks to the back part of the bar. Ava’s hair really is falling from her braid and it’s messy in a pretty kind of way, little strands of dark blonde hair sticking from the edges of the plait and clinging to the silky back of her shirt. Sara’s eyes trail down the rest of Ava’s body, the curve of her waist and the sides of her legs before Ava’s almost out of sight. “You’re hopeless,” Zari snorts from the other side of the table and Sara just shrugs as the others chime in to agree with Zari.
“Oh don’t I know it,” Sara hums quietly, her lips still pulled up as the bathroom door closes behind Ava, “Anyways, back to the discussion. Who here wants to try and guess what the seniors end up doing for their prank day?”
********************
The primary issue of letting freshman use tools such as the paper cutter is that some of them have never been allowed to use sharp things in their lives. As such, injuries tend to come when they’re granted privileges that Sara never should have offered them, so now Sara has taken over and is slicing out squares of colored paper that some students are using to make their collages today.
After a long week, Sara had decided that this Thursday was best spent as a free draw day so the students could take this time to make whatever they want. It’s a chance for the students to really find their niche, and it gives Sara a chance to see the creativity of the kids as well as to learn who needs a bit more encouragement when it comes to finding inspiration. This is only an elective class, so Sara doesn’t expect everyone to be perfectly invested, but she does expect them to at least try.
Thankfully in this class, everyone has found at least one thing that they really enjoy doing. Sara’s been really watching Wren this class block and others because the young student is actually a rather talented artist when it comes to drawing animals. While Wren had not been a fan of some of the more abstract art, she’s currently working on drawing a giraffe that looks incredibly real. Even more impressive is that Wren is drawing using just pencil and charcoal on her sketchpad.
And then there’s Jake, someone who does need encouragement, but that comes in the form of asking him to push his imagination just a little bit more. Today he had been the one who wanted to make his art entirely of geometric shapes, and as soon as he promised he wasn’t just being silly about it, Sara had agreed to cut the paper for him. Some of the other students had followed suit, also wanting to use paper as their base for their art, which means Sara’s been stuck here cutting paper as they request it.
Not that she minds, Sara has had a bit of a migraine today so this keeps her from having to go around the class. It means that she gets to just stand here and take in the art that the students are creating. Like Patrick, who is currently using some of the oil paints and is creating what appears to be a rainy day on paper. He’s effortlessly brilliant when it comes to using the right tools and mediums, and Sara can’t help but admire the way that he’s painstakingly taking the time to form and shade each individual rain drop. When it comes to Patrick, Sara keeps her comments to a minimum as he’s working because he prefers to show her the finished outcome rather than checking in mid-progress.
“Miss Lance,” a voice calls from the side and Sara looks up to find that Darcy is regarding her thoughtfully, her classes sliding down her face as her brows crease, “What happened to your cactus mug?”
“My cactus mug?” Sara repeats, not really following as she follows Darcy’s gaze to her desk.
“You always have the same one here in class but it’s missing today,” Darcy points out and by now some of the other students are listening in, nodding their heads in agreement. Students always pick up on the strangest things, but Darcy isn’t wrong, the mug currently sitting on Sara’s desk is not in fact her cactus mug.
Instead this one is shaped like the body of a little cat, the tail forming the handle and it’s completely different from the spiked mug that Sara had before. “Oh it broke yesterday afternoon,” Sara explains, bringing down the handle of the paper slicer and pushing the cut paper to the side, “I made the mistake of placing it too close to the edge of the counter and it shattered when I knocked it off on accident.”
While that is true, Sara refrains from telling her students exactly how she wound up knocking the mug off. It’s an embarrassing story and certainly not one that is appropriate to be sharing with her students so Sara keeps it to herself. Darcy appears pleased by her answer though and has gone back to her work, leading Sara to let out a small chuckle as she returns to her task as well. But just as Sara brings down the sharp edge, she realizes that she’s miscalculated where the blade was going to come down and ends up nicking her finger.
Instantly the cut begins to sting and Sara winces as she removes her hand from the board, a few drops of blood already falling from the wound. It’s not that deep, but already Sara is getting blood all over her shirt and the slicer, so she reaches for a spare towel. “Woah,” a voice says and Sara already knows it’s Jake, “Miss Lance your finger is really bleeding, do you have a bandaid?”
Sara would have a bandaid, but she had given away her first aid kit two days ago when there was in incident in computer science involving a keyboard and a loose key. “Jake go across the hall and see if Miss Sharpe has a spare bandaid or too,” Sara instructs as Jake is already getting up from his seat, “If she doesn’t have any, Miss Tomaz has my first aid kit in the computer lab and you can run and get it from her.”
There is every likelihood that Ava has bandaids though. In fact Sara will be absolutely shocked if she finds out that Ava has nothing there in her classroom. Once the door clicks shut, Sara turns to her students only to find that they’re all turned to her with varying degress of concern on their faces. “It’s just a cut,” Sara waves them off as she heads to the front of the room, the wound in question already stinging quite a bit, “Keep doing your work, but for now if you needed the paper, find something else to make your art with.”
There’s certainly plenty of supplies spread around the room to pull from, Sara had made sure to lay out what she could this morning. The door to the classroom opens once more, the papers near the window fluttering as Jake enters and to Sara’s surprise, Ava is there with him. “I heard you’re trying to cut off your own fingers over here?” Ava asks, her lips curving up in amusement.
With raised brows, Sara turns to Jake because she’s sure he is the one that told Ava that. But Jake just shrugs before going back to his own seat in the back, already getting started on his collage again. “Apparently I am,” Sara replies, turning back to Ava and taking in the whole handful of bandaids that Ava has laid out on the desk, “You planning for the zombie apocalypse with all that in your kit?”
When Ava looks up, there’s a playful smile on her lips, her eyes already sparkling with mirth. “It’s best to be prepared,” Ava counters as Sara takes a seat and Ava comes to stand near her, “Who knows when the idiot across the hall might get the notion that she should bleed all over the paper slicer.” With a small round of mock laughter, Sara just rolls her eyes with a smile before leaning back in her chair. “Come on then,” Ava holds out her hand, “Let me see it.”
Unwrapping her finger from the paper towel, Sara reveals the cut to Ava and she hears the way that Ava clicks her tongue as she takes Sara’s hand in her own. As always, Ava’s hands are soft and warm, her fingers so gently as she takes Sara’s injured one and turns it over to inspect the cut. But Sara takes this time to inspect Ava. Today Ava’s worn a pair of loose grey overalls that cover a patterned white shirt underneath. There are black boots on her feet and around Ava’s neck is the necklace that she never goes without.
There’s no glasses perching on Ava’s nose today, but her hair has been braided back in yet another complex updo that Sara knows takes Ava forever to finish in the mornings. Sometimes Ava does her hair in the car on the carpool rides with Zari, bobby pins sticking between her lips as she does her hair in the small car mirror and argues with Sara to slow down so she can finish. Today it’s forming what almost appears to be a crown of braids, exposing the soft highlights and lowlights in Ava’s hair. When Ava looks up, Sara doesn’t even bother pretending that she was looking at her and automatically Ava’s cheeks tint pink. “You just might survive,” Ava clears her throat, releasing Sara’s finger and reaching for a bandaid.
“Thank god for that,” Sara exhales dramatically, something that earns her a soft and delicate sounding laugh from Ava. Sara’s always liked that laugh, even if it is the laugh that always comes when Sara’s said something that Ava finds ridiculous. But Sara hands her finger over again when Ava holds out her hand, letting Ava wrap it in the bandage even though this is something that Sara can do herself.
Still though, it gives Sara more time to just take Ava in, to look at the barely there freckles dusting her cheeks and her nose, and the kind grey-blue eyes that Sara first saw in this very building about fourteen years ago. They met in high-school here, back when Sara was so angry all the time and Ava was the quiet know-it-all that pissed Sara off to no end. Their hallway fights were legendary, and on multiple occasions they found themselves in detention or the principals office together for arguing with each other.
For a while, Sara was convinced that she hated Ava. At least that was the case when Sara came into her freshman english class and had made just one comment about how reading is sometimes boring and the next thing she knew, Ava, the transfer student at the time was instantly on her ass about it. That whole year, Ava was nothing but insufferable and sometimes Sara was convinced that Ava didn’t really believe the things she said, she just wanted a reason to fight with Sara. And in Ava’s defense, Sara wanted to fight with Ava too so sometimes she would provoke her on purpose.
That continued all through their first and second years here, until one day junior year they were paired together for a science project. When their classmates realized that Ava Sharpe and Sara Lance were paired together, the entire room fell silent. Even Sara couldn’t believe that Mr. Stein would be so cruel as to make them work together for an entire semester. But he never let up and didn’t back down from the pairing.
It’s a good thing he didn’t. That project is what made Sara realize that all of Ava’s false confidence and rigidness was a front, that really Ava was just scared and that’s why she was closed off. Ava hadn’t had a good time at her last school where she had been outed, and it was the reason behind her transfer. That was also the year that Sara realized Ava was good for her, that nobody before had really seen potential in Sara and pushed her to go after things.
But it was senior year where Sara realized that she had a crush on her best friend. Back then Ava was lankier and more awkward than she is now from time to time, all long limbs and long dark blonde hair. But Sara thought she was stunning. It became increasingly hard to keep it a secret, and then one day they were graduating and going to schools on different sides of the country. They promised they’d stay in touch but, it hurt sometimes to hear about the things Ava was doing and to know Sara wasn’t a part of it.
All it took was one year for them to go from friends who used to sleep at each other’s houses to people who barely spoke via text once a few months. But they both had lives to keep up with and even new partners. Sara moved on and had a few heartbreaks along the way, so she was nothing but surprised to get the job here and show up for that new teacher mixer the school had and find that Ava was going to be the new english teacher.
It took time for them to come back together again and learn everything that was so changed about each other. And it took time for Sara to learn to let someone in like she had let Ava in before. But now they’re here, and Sara quite likes where they’re at, even if it isn’t what the high school version of herself ever imagined. “That should do it,” Ava hums proudly, wrapping the final edge of the bandage around Sara’s finger before discarding the wrapper in the trash, “Just don’t go around laying your hand near the blade again.”
“Smart-ass,” Sara shakes her head with a smile, keeping her voice quiet enough that the students can’t hear her. Ava always was a little too sarcastic for her own good. “Thank you though,” Sara flexes her newly bandaged finger, feeling the resistance near the joint that the fabric is now covering, “You didn’t have to come over here and do that, I could have bandaged my own finger.”
“I don’t know,” Ava lilts, already packing up her bandages with that playful grin on her face, her eyes flickering over to Sara’s and creasing at the corners, “You’re pretty useless when it comes to safety Sara Lance.” It’s not even close to the truth, and Sara nudges Ava’s hip with her elbow even as she smiles. “Besides I’m used to cleaning up your messes,” Ava replies, her brows raised and lips pursed, “It’s becoming a common thing lately.”
That’s rich coming from Ava considering the fact Sara saw her burn her tongue on tea that she heated up too hot the other morning. And if Ava is referring to the mess that Sara thinks she is, her comment was an unfair blow. “As I recall, the spilled coffee was not my fault,” Sara reminds Ava in a low tone, raising her brows as Ava clicks her tongue and flushes brightly. “Besides, you got two paper cuts last week just from reading books and grading essays,” Sara retorts as Ava pulls the last bandaid into her hand, “And each one you whined about for at least three days.”
But clearly Ava’s not going to reply to that, she’s already on her way to the door. Though she does stop at the door and tosses Sara a small smile. “Call me if you make yourself bleed again,” Ava says with that grin and Sara rolls her eyes as Ava opens the door.
“Will do Miss Sharpe,” Sara calls back just as the door closes behind Ava. Once more Sara shakes her head before she realizes that the class has gone eerily quiet. It always unnerves Sara when that happens and she looks up to find her students are intermittently peeking at her. “What?” Sara asks them and gets no reply, “My finger is fine, all fixed now. So let’s get back to your projects, there is limited time left and we’re not wasting any of it.”
********************
Wednesdays are the one rare day a week that Sara doesn’t have lunch duty and she is more than ready to get some peace and quite to herself as she enters the teacher break room. It’s a cozy little room that has a few tables and a small kitchenette there to the side. On the far wall is a brown couch and two little green armchairs that Sara is guilty of napping in before. And of course there’s the fridge in the kitchen that holds not only teacher foods, but sometimes holds spare treats and other desserts that are leftover from classes or parent teacher conferences.
Last week Sara had found spare brownies sitting on the counter in here and she had been about to take them back to her room for herself when Ava and Zari came in and then Sara was forced to share, much to her dismay. Not that she doesn’t like sharing, but they were brownies made by a student’s mom that owns a local bakery and Sara had every intention on just taking them home herself.
Inside the break room, Zari is already sitting at the table eating and Sara slides across from her, laying her lunch box there on the table and unzipping it. “Tell me how it’s only Wednesday,” Zari groans quietly, tipping her head back and staring at the ceiling as Sara smiles on at her friend’s antics, “I don’t know what it is, but there has to be something in the water supply this week. My kids have been nothing short of terrible all week long.”
It’s a statement that Sara is going to have to get on board with. Sometimes this happens in October, there are bursts of energy and bad behavior from the kids as they’re getting closer and closer to the holiday breaks. Not that Sara can blame them of course, she remembers what it was like to be a kid and to just want to get through classes and have a nice break with her friends and family. But it’s meant a lot of really antsy kids as well as some behavioural issues in classes.
Even just the other day Sara had to break up a minor fight between Jake and Patrick over something as stupid as a box of oil paints. It certainly was not the only one, but tensions have been running high between Jake, the louder student in the class, and Patrick, the quieter one, all semester long. Apparently yesterday is when those issues really came to their peak, and Sara had not expected that sudden outburst from either of them.
“Tell me about it,” Sara mutters, opening her lunchbox and finding a sandwich and a little cupcake inside that has definitely been smushed but Sara knows it will still taste good. Removing the sandwich from the container, Sara hums as she bites into it, feeling the crunchy texture there in the middle of the lunch meat.
“I still think it’s nasty that you put chips on the inside of your sandwich,” Zari speaks, her nose wrinkled when Sara looks up at her. It’s a fair thing to say, Sara thought it was gross too when her sister had showed her once when she was younger. But then Sara had tried it herself and realized that it somehow really just enhances the sandwich-eating experience and she hasn’t stopped doing this since then.
“I’ll get you to join me on the dark side one day,” Sara mumbles around a mouthful of her food, not bothering with manners back here because it’s been too long of a day for her to care about something as trivial as not speaking with her mouth full. “You could try it you know, I put plantain chips on my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and there’s no meat on that,” Sara points out as Zari just shakes her head with another grimace, “They’re like dried bananas Zari, don’t know it until you’ve tried it.”
But clearly Sara has not convinced Zari and she’s not surprised. Nearly all her friends think that she’s crazy for doing this and still Sara can’t bring herself to care. A knock comes at the door and Sara looks up to find Nate there in the doorway with a worried look on his face. “Can one of you come stand in for me on lunch duty right now?” he asks, his eyes flickering to the phone in his hand, “Amaya got some troubling news at the appointment today and I need to go and be with her.”
Instantly Sara places her sandwich down, worried for her friend. Today is Amaya’s ultrasound appointment to see the sex of the baby and Sara knows that Amaya has been looking forward to this all week. Even Zari looks concerned as she’s turned to face Nate. “How bad is it?” Sara asks, nerves twisting in her stomach as she worries for her friends.
“I don’t know yet,” Nate sighs and Sara can see how scared he is by the way he’s frowning and fidgeting in the door, “She said it wasn’t terrible but, I don’t think I can be here without worrying about it. I want to go there so she’s not alone.”
It’s completely reasonable and Sara nods her head, already standing from her chair. “I’ll go take over, Zari will be happy to see me take my chip sandwich somewhere else,” Sara remarks with another admonishing look in Zari’s direction, one that’s met with an eye roll. Stopping to pack her things away and then grabbing her lunch bag, Sara comes to the door and rests her hand on Nate’s shoulder, “Go see her buddy, and keep us updated on what’s happening to all of our godchild.”
Because there are so many friends in the group, Amaya and Nate said that they wouldn’t choose just one godmother or godfather. Instead they would all be that to the baby, though Nate said he prefers to just call them all aunts and uncles. Sara was touched of course, and this baby will be the first born into their little group. Ray is married to Nora, a woman who actually is a professor at the university nearby. Sara likes Nora a lot, though Nora is usually much busier than them and doesn’t come around as often. Still, Sara happens to know from Ava that right now Nora and Ray are also trying to have a kid.
As Nate gives her a thankful smile and heads off down the hall, Sara makes her way to the cafeteria as she thinks. It’s strange sometimes to look at this group and realize that they’re all old enough to be having kids of their own. Sometimes Sara has wondered what it might be like to have a mini version of herself. She’s not exactly confident in her parenting abilities, but Sara knows that she would love whatever child she might one day have. Still though, it is a bit terrifying to think of, and Sara’s glad that she’ll have examples of parenting from her friends before she has to think about that.
In the cafeteria, Sara comes in to find Ava off to the side, a phone pressed to one ear and her hand pressed to the other. “Is that Amaya?” Sara mouths as she comes closer and Ava just nods, clearly listening to whatever Amaya is saying on the other side. Sara stands there with Ava, watching as Ava’s brows crease and her lips form a small frown.
“Okay well just keep us posted honey, we’re all hoping that this goes well,” Ava speaks to Amaya and Sara nods her head in agreement, “Sara’s here with me too and we both love you okay, Nate will be there soon.” With that, Ava ends the call and then leans against the wall with a small sigh. “Nate told you?” Ava asks and Sara hums, coming to lean next to Ava, their shoulders and arms brushing along the wall, “Apparently there’s something wrong with the umbilical cord and they’re trying to figure out how big of a problem it is.”
That doesn’t sounds good. Granted Sara knows very little about babies and umbilical cords, but Ava sounds distressed and clearly if Nate is rushing out to go there, something is wrong. Sara can’t help but be worried for her friends, she knows how badly they’ve wanted kids and how long they’ve been trying. Nate and Amaya have been married about three years now and have been trying at least as long. Sara has been there with Amaya through all the ups and downs of the different fertility drugs, and she knows that losing this baby would kill her friend.
Before Sara can ask Ava a follow up though, someone is calling her name and Sara looks up to find Wren there at a table. There’s a smile on Wren’s face and she waves Sara over. Giving Ava’s arm a little squeeze, Sara pushes off the wall and heads over to see what she’s wanted for. “Want to have lunch with us Miss Lance?” Wren asks, pointing to the cleared space there at the end of the table.
Sara shouldn’t. Lunch duty means overseeing everything that’s going on, not just sitting at a table with one group of students. But it’s relatively quiet in the room right now so surely a few moments won’t hurt. That and Wren is one of Sara’s favorites. When Sara said that at the bar last week, Ava told her that she wasn’t supposed to have favorites and maybe Sara shouldn’t. But she does.
Wren is another one of those students that reminds Sara of herself, but in a different way. Wren is witty and sarcastic, and Sara has heard from the others that the girl doesn’t do well in other classes, not because she isn’t capable, but because she doesn’t apply herself. But in art, Wren excels. That’s how Sara was in school, with art being her one escape from things and she’s been trying to quietly encourage Wren to really make an effort in her other classes as well. “I suppose you can have the honor of hosting me today,” Sara caves, sliding into the seat there and looking over her shoulder to find that Ava’s also sitting at a table.
It’s a bit surprising to see that Ava isn’t up and patrolling around. Usually Ava takes lunch duty seriously, a little too seriously at times. Last week Zari said that Ava almost made a freshman cry after he spilled milk all over the table because of some little prank and Ava stood there as he had wiped up the entire mess and then apologized to the table of sophomores that he had disturbed. “What are we painting today in class?” Wren asks, breaking Sara’s thoughts as she turns back to her student, “Is it another free day?”
Monday had been a free draw day because Sara hadn’t wanted to rush into the new segment. So today is an actual artist day, Sara just hasn’t revealed which one to her students yet. “Well,” Sara hums, unzipping her bag and taking out her lunch again, “You tell me what you hope we’re painting and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”
Wren isn’t the only student from art that’s at this table, Reagan and Marcus are here too and Sara listens to the three of them as they chime in, each letting her know what artists they want to move to next. It’s always fun for Sara to listen to the ideas that her students have, and she smiles as Marcus begins excitedly talking about a painter that he wants to emulate, describing their works as he’s unable to remember the name. It’s Rembrandt that he’s talking about, but Sara doesn’t interrupt him because she’s never seen Marcus so thrilled about art.
“Why do you have chips on your sandwich?” Reagan cuts Marcus off mid-topic and Sara looks to her student in surprise, not really expecting that question.
This is now the second person today to bring up something that Sara has been doing to her sandwiches for years, and she wonders what has brought this on. “For texture,” Sara replies, lifting her shoulder in a shrug before looking to her sandwich where plain potato chips peek out between layers of lunch meat and cheese, “And for balance.” Wren and Reagan instantly exchanges looks and Sara catches the way that Marcus leans over to whisper something in Reagan’s ear. “Alright well,” Sara tilts her head to the side, “If you’re going to tell secrets the whole time, I’ll find another table to grace with my presence.”
Again the trio all exchanges a series of looks and Sara lets out a fake sigh of boredom as she taps her nails along the table. “I was just telling Reagan that Miss Sharpe says the exact same thing,” Marcus says with a nervous look on his face, his eyes flickering to Reagan and Sara feels something move under the table before Marcus visibly winces.
Unsure what the hell is going on here between the three students, Sara looks at each of them suspiciously. “Yeah well who do you think taught Miss Sharpe that?” Sara prompts, lifting her shoulder up and placing her sandwich down, “I brought Miss Sharpe with me to the dark side. Before me she used to measure out the exact amount of peanut butter for her sandwiches, and I mean to the tablespoon and everything.”
That draws a laugh from the trio, something that Sara joins in on. She always found it endearing though that Ava took as long as she did to make sandwiches. It was something Sara used to mock Ava for back when they were fighting, but overtime it became one of those adorable little quirks that was so quintessential of Ava. Now there are so many of those little things Ava does, Sara’s lost track. Maybe Sara’s favourite is that Ava never once throws away a single piece of art that Sara makes her, even if it is a silly little doodle drawn on Ava’s stick note pad in a teacher meeting.
“If you think that’s funny, I have another one for you,” Sara begins, glancing over her shoulder and finding that Ava’s already looking at her with a soft smile on her face. This time it’s Sara’s turn to blush as she turns back to her students, “So, let me tell you about the time that I learned she used to literally count out her lunch meat and cheese for her sandwiches.”
********************
There aren’t many things that really test Sara’s self control. Not anymore at least. When she was younger she had issues with impulse control but now she’s older and has worked through that for the most part. Now Sara can at least pretend that she’s in control, even if she isn’t at all.
Tonight however, her impulse control is being tested. Heavily. By Ava Sharpe. Specifically by Ava Sharpe wearing a pair of skin tight black ripped jeans and a band shirt that looks a little too familiar to Sara. The sleeves are rolled, revealing the hard lines of muscle along Ava’s upper arms as well as the freckles that dot along her skin. Each rip in the jeans shows small glimpses of smooth tanned skin and Sara is really trying to remain here in her seat, but there’s no telling how long that’s going to last. Right now Ava’s talking with Nora and Sara can already imagine that the conversation has something to do with the animal shelter that the pair work at.
Right now, what isn’t helping Sara’s control is that Ava’s let her hair down so it tumbles down her back, the ends curling where it’s been in a braid all day, all soft waves and gentle bends of dark blonde hair. Nor does it help that Ava’s holding her beer bottle like that, between just the tips of her fingers as she raises it to her lips, her jawbone so pronounced as Sara watches her from the side. “Your staring is gross,” Zari mutters, breaking Sara free from her thoughts.
But Sara doesn’t look away from Ava, not just yet. “I can’t help it,” Sara replies with a shrug, watching as Ava places the bottle down, her tongue coming to run over her lips as she catches the drops of liquid along the corners of her mouth. “She’s hot,” Sara turns to Zari, ignoring that urge inside her that wants her to go over to Ava right now, “And she wore those jeans, you know how I feel about those jeans.”
They fit Ava perfectly, showing off toned thighs and calves, ending just above the black boots that Ava has on, the ones that give her even more of a height advantage over Sara. But Zari is rolling her eyes, clearly not amused with Sara’s assessment. They’re back in the bar this evening and they’re only a week away from October ending which means that soon, there will only be a month and a half before school is out for winter break.
The doors to the bar open and Sara looks up to find the last two of their party has finally arrived. Amaya and Nate come in and it’s been a day since anyone in the group has seen the pair because they’ve been waiting to hear results from their most recent ultrasound. “So we have good news,” Amaya begins as she comes over and Sara turns around in her stool at the bar, “It was just a small scare, the cord was wrapped around his foot, but it’s come loose again and there is nothing to worry about.”
It’s good news, amazing news actually and Sara smiles at Amaya as the others come closer and offer their congratulations as well. “Wait he?” Ray interrupts the celebrations and Sara realizes that Ray is right, Amaya gave something away in her last sentence there.
There’s proud smiles on both Nate and Amaya’s faces as they look at each other and Amaya nods her head. “We’re having a boy,” Nate exclaims and instantly Ray is jumping forwards and hugging him as Sara laughs. Nate had really wanted his first kid to be a boy and Sara thinks maybe Ray wanted it just as much. They’re still hugging each other when Sara steps forwards and comes to greet Amaya.
“I’m so glad everything is okay,” Sara murmurs as she squeezes her friend tight, feeling Amaya’s barely there baby bump pressing against her own stomach, “I know how worried you were about this and I’m glad it’s over.”
“Me too,” Amaya sighs, pulling away and resting her hand over her stomach, “I really did not need that stress surrounding this week and I’m just happy he’s okay.” The others are there in seconds, wrapping Amaya and Nate both in hugs and Sara leans against the bar with her beer as she watches on at the celebrations.
Sometimes it feels like it was only months ago they were all here in the bar still getting to know each other and now this group of people has become some of Sara’s closest and most important friends. Already Sara’s met all of their families and they’ve met hers. Laurel even keeps in touch with some of Sara’s friends, particularly with Ava and Sara loves that her sister adores this group as much as Sara does.
When the others move to their usual booth, Sara goes with them, sliding in her spot between Nora and Ava on the right side. “So when does your maternity leave start?” Sara asks, mentally trying to work out the numbers in her head for Amaya’s departure in the spring.
“Well it’s up to me, but I imagine once I’m nearing those final two weeks I’ll leave,” Amaya replies as Sara hums, “Seeing as I don’t have to walk around the room to teach, I plan on pushing it to the last minute so I can have more time with him once he’s born.” It’s a good point, one that Sara hadn’t considered before. “You know the kids in my classes are already trying to guess the name,” Amaya remarks with a small laugh, “I’m thinking of drawing it out, maybe not even revealing it until the week I leave.”
“They were talking about the name in my class this afternoon,” Zari chimes in, resting her shirley temple there on the table and then lifting her shoulder in a shrug, “They’ve been talking about a lot of things recently, so many rumours.”
Zari has a point there. Already Sara has heard whispers from the students that Rip might secretly be seeing the freshman english teacher Gideon, or that Gary is secretly an alien. The one about Gary had made her laugh though. “They’re so whispery this year,” Sara nods her head in agreement as Zari and Amaya share a look. There’s something on their faces, like they know something Sara doesn’t and she narrows her eyes in their direction. “What was that?” Sara accuses as Zari turns to her with an innocent look, “That little shared look, what does that mean?”
“Nothing just,” Zari lifts her shoulder in a shrug before pulling her straw between her lips, “This is the class that you and Ava share right?”
Sara turns to Ava to see if she knows what this is about, but Ava appears confused as well, her brows drawn and her lips turned in a small frown. “We share some of the freshman students yes,” Ava agrees and Sara nods her head before turning to Zari once more, “But not all of my students are also in Sara’s class.” In fact only about half are, students like Jake, Marcus, Patrick, Wren, and Darcy. But there are plenty who they don’t share, so Sara doesn’t know where Zari is going with this.
“What do you know?” Sara prompts, getting the feeling that there’s a rumor out there that has something to do with her or Ava. That’s something that makes Sara a bit nervous, and she’s tempted to turn and look at Ava, but she refrains.
But Zari is laughing and Amaya clearly knows whatever this is about because she’s smiling as well. Sara wants to push them on this because rumors never lead to good things. Sometimes they’re all in good fun and sometimes they cause real trouble. “You’ll hear it eventually,” Zari shakes her head and Sara narrows her eyes again, tempted to reach out and kick Zari’s foot under the table, “It’s not a bad rumor.”
Zari has fairly loose definitions of what bad means. Last semester there was a rumor that went around that Nate was secretly immortal and that’s why he knew so much about history. Zari had been actively fueling that rumor by doctoring images of hold historical photos with Nate’s face on some of the people in the background, and it had led to a teacher meeting about not feeding into student’s perceptions or imaginations regarding the teachers.
And again, Sara doesn’t like the idea of something being out there and having to do with her or Ava, or her and Ava. But when Sara looks to Ava to guage her reaction on this, Ava doesn’t appear to be bothered. She’s still sipping at her beer, and Sara watches as a drop misses Ava’s mouth, sliding down her chin and along the line of her jaw. Sara’s eyes are glued to the drop just as it reaches Ava’s neck and Ava wipes it away. That tight feeling is back in Sara’s abdomen, and Ava turns her head, making eye contact.
Surprise registers on Ava’s features, and then embarrassment as her cheeks flush a bright pink color. It’s a lovely blush though, spreading over just Ava’s cheekbones and down the sides of her neck where Sara’s sure it spreads over her chest as well. Offering Ava a small grin, Sara turns back to the conversation, raising her own beer to her lips. Sometimes it’s all too easy to tease Ava. Sara knows she shouldn’t, but she just loves doing it, and it certainly won’t be the last time she does so this week, it might not even be the last time she does it tonight. Tuning back into the new topic, Sara sips her beer and ignores the warm press of Ava’s thigh against her own, actively channeling her self control.
********************