How Green Becomes Wood

"I think that is easy for people who find speaking easy to say." Milo replied, "sometimes you try saying exactly what you think needs to be said, but people still do not hear you." He shrugged, shoving his hands down into his pockets and looked down at the floor, wondering if starting this conversation had been worth it.
 
"People can not hear you no matter how good or bad you are at speaking, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't still try to advocate for yourself," Alec said almost gently. "You're important, too, you know." He looked up and pointed. "But here we are at our next destination!"

"Oh goody. I wonder if we'll have to answer lame questions here, too," Xander said dryly. "Maybe I'll say something different every class."

"As long as you don't change your name, I'm on board with that," Alec agreed readily.
 
Once again, Milo looked at Alec for a few moments, debating saying something. This time, however, he let it go, and followed them into the classroom. It was one of the last ones he had with them, his next class was his honors English course.
 
Xander quietly handed Milo the stress ball and awkwardly gave Milo's shoulder a single pat. He agreed with Alec that speaking up for yourself was important whether or not the other person heard you, but not everyone could keep fighting that same battle over and over again. Some, like Milo, drew into themselves. Some, like Xander, lashed outward. Both stopped trying, and it wasn't easy to try again after not trying for so many years. He knew Alec knew it wasn't easy, but he also knew that sometimes it was better to not push. He was willing to bet Milo had heard that conversation and variations of it a thousand times. It didn't help. But, if Milo ever did want someone to speak up on his behalf, Xander knew of two people who were willing to fill that roll for him. If he ever wanted it.
 
It struck Milo as ironic that Alec kept telling him to advocate for himself while simultaneously not really seeming to listen when he attempted to express public speaking wasn't at all something that came naturally to him. But he knew his friend didn't mean to come across that way, so he let it go. Explaining it wouldn't be worthwhile, anyway, so he slid into his seat and took out his notebook for another class.
 
The new history teacher seemed nice enough. Middle-aged woman with blond hair and strangely intense eyes, she looked like someone you didn't want to push too far, but was also as nice as a high school teacher could be without getting eaten alive. It was another "get to know you" segment after going over the syllabus, and Xander gave the same answers but switched out "history" for "science" as his favorite subject.
 
Milo did his absolute best to fight through answering questions, saying the exact same thing, in the exact same order, except for the last question which was different. He was nearly afraid the stress ball would pop he was working it so hard. The teacher's gaze he tried to avoid, it was piercing. Mr. Dark's was too, it was a similar unyielding intensity, but not quite the same. Without being able to look at either of them in the eyes for more than a few moments, it was hard for him to express what was different about it, but this woman made him nervous.
 
The teacher [who needs a name] started to press Milo a little and ask him a couple of questions about some of his answers, but after her second question, Alec suddenly raised a hand and asked what the word defenestration meant. That drew her attention, and what was left of the class was spent talking about the incident that supposedly set off the Thirty Years' War in central Europe. That was somewhat interesting, and they were released from class to move on to English.
 
It was a huge relief to Milo when Alec distracted their teacher, and he scurried out of the classroom as quickly as he could. "I'm sure she's great," he mumbled, face still a bit hot because he had been dwelling on the experience, "but I don't like her."
 
"Why?" Alec asked curiously. "Anything specific?" He wanted to ask if it was just the fact that she'd asked further questions, but he highly doubted that.

"Weird eyes," Xander stated.
 
"Mr. Dark has weird eyes too," Milo mumbled, "but hers are different weird. I don't like how she kept pressing me to say more. It felt like she knew I wasn't comfortable and wanted to really torture me about it."
 
Both Alec and Xander turned to stare at him.

"Well, I'm going to give the benefit of the doubt and say that can't possibly have been her intent," Alec said hopefully.

"Yeah, that's gym teachers," Xander said, but he moved closer to Milo as they walked until they had to split for their different classes. "Have fun being able to write English goodly," he told Milo.
 
When Milo caught them staring, he blinked, not understanding what he had said incorrectly. They had asked, hadn't they? Doing his best to take off those thoughts, he teased, "I think you may need more help with that than I do. One summer school class and I'm in honour's."
 
"Hardy har har," Xander said dryly and led the way to their next class.

Alec put a hand on Milo's shoulder and smiled warmly. "Two down! And then you can have peace and quiet at last!" Then he scampered after Xander.
 
"I can't wait," Milo sighed, heading to his English class. He had the teacher who only started a year ago, Ms. Piper, who was also a bit shy, and certainly bookish. Like Ciara (who Milo, of course, had never met), Hetty Piper typically wore her hair in a bun, but it was much softer, and loose pieces often snuck away to be pinned back in place with a pencil.

She still did ice breakers, but unlike Milo's other classes that day, Ms. Piper had them write out the answer to some questions and turn it into her, and she'd go through them later. If students wanted to share their answers, they were free to, but otherwise her only request was they say their name, so she made sure she was pronouncing it properly. It was the first time all day Milo felt like he was able to relax, and since it was a higher level, it was a significantly smaller class size, with mostly studious seeming peers, since few people agreed to be in the advanced classes if they didn't care about school.
 
The twins' English class was far more straightforward and normal. Xander zoned out for the introductions. This teacher had them say their name and one interesting thing about them. Xander tried to think of the most boring thing about himself and said, "Red is my natural hair color." Then they started talking about potential books for class, and he zoned out again. He had no intent to be a stellar student, just to pass. He knew he wasn't going to do amazing no matter how hard he tried, so why bother wasting the energy?

After English class, it was off to science! The alternately most interesting and most boring class in school, in his opinion.
 
On the way to lunch, Mr. Major, the art teacher, spotted Alec in the hallway and came over, "Oh, oh! There he is, one of my dear artistes! And how was your summer, Monsieur Cunningham?"
 
"Hello, Mr. Major!" Alec cried, truly delighted to see the art teacher again. "My summer was fantastic, thank you for asking. I got a lovely part time job at a flower shop. I'd never thought it before, shame on me, but bouquets make such use of colors! How about you? How was your summer, sir?"
 
"Flowers! Oh, divine, divine! I yearn, yearn, for dried flowers. I thought---What a multimedia piece! To attach them to the canvas, and paint progressively more surrealist flowers drifting from them!" He paused, imagining exactly how he'd have it in his mind but then clapped his hands and came back to attention, "Fabulous! Divine! Oh, what a summer! The drama, the intrigue! But how horrible, returning here and remembering it was not a nightmare in which your father had quit! My teacher's lounge table feels barren!"
 
"If I can, I will bring you flowers from my job!" Alec promised his teacher. He sighed when Mr. Major brought up Dark teaching. "I know! It is so sad to know he is not just a few steps away while here in school, but he is so happy now, sir. I think he has found his true calling! At least, for now while Ivy is little. He smiles daily, sir, and it is like watching Dracula falling in love over and over again."
 
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