How Green Becomes Wood

Dark rubbed the back of his neck, "I do appreciate you held that concern. Not everybody has cared about that. He just was not ready to go home."

When Tristan asked about how Alec was doing, if anything was recovered, he took awhile to figure out how to answer it, "In a way. Not all of the fallout is sorted, but I believe things are improving. Or will."
 
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Tristan nodded slightly. "If I can do anything to help, let me know. And if he needs to skip a few more shifts, I will understand, though I will not expect you to continue to cover for him."
 
"I think he wants to come back. He truly enjoys it here. And he is only grounded for the week, so you will have him again soon," Dark told him, "I think it will be a good move back to normalcy."
 
"That's good, that's good," Tristan agreed. He wasn't sure what else he could say about someone else's raising of their son. He felt he approved, but could you say you approved of someone else's child-rearing tactics? Was that appropriate? He was almost relieved when another group came in.

This time, it was a bunch of teen girls. They giggled and laughed and teased their way around and around the store. Tristan attempted to offer help, but he was essentially ignored, so he patiently parked himself behind the cash register and waited. He wasn't about to leave Dark alone with this pack of hormones.
 
When the teenagers came in, Dark sighed, and after seeing they were here "for him," took a moment to steel himself, and went over to help them.

With the older women, he'd chat back a little, but with teenagers like this, he spoke as little as possible while still providing decent service so he didn't make Tristan look bad. As he had told the twins, teenagers all looked like gray blobs to him, and he kept a firm, respectable distance from them.
 
A couple of the girls in particular kept whispering to each other about him, and they continuously pushed their way forward and tried to shove themselves into his line of sight. Interestingly, their friends started helping them. When they weren't trying to catch Dark's attention for themselves. The two girls seemed to be growing incredibly frustrated as time went on, and they finally started asking odd, pointed questions about his job.
 
As hard as he tried to ignore anything these girls did besides what was necessary for his job, but when they grew frustrated, he sighed, did his best to answer their bizarre questions, and asked, "Is there something else you need?"
 
"Don't you remember us, Mr. Dark?" the bustier of the two girls pouted.

"Yeah, I thought for sure we'd left some kind of impression on you!" said the curvier of the two. She stepped closer to Dark.

Tristan raised a brow as he watched and moved his chair to the end of the counter.
 
Oh god. They were his students. He took a small step back, and then said, with surprising conviction, "Of course I remember you! My apologies: I am so used to seeing the both you in a classroom, I did not expect to see you here. How have you been?"
 
That seemed to mollify them a little bit, and both girls grinned at him while their friends tittered behind them. "We're great! Right? Yeah, we're fantastic! Totally miss having you as a teacher, but, hey! Now that we aren't teacher and student anymore, that means it won't be a branch or whatever of rules or whatever to be friends, right?"
 
Dark's expression did not change. But inside he screamed.

"I am still much older than you," He replied, "You should be friends with people your own age, I do not suspect we have anything in common. I do not make friends with people young enough to be my child."
 
"Oh, come on!" huffed the bustier one. "My grandad says that part of the reason this country is such a mess is because everyone is always locked away in their own age groups. We're never allowed to expand naturally by being with people older or younger than us. Don't you want us to grow more as people?"
 
Patiently, Dark asked, "What is it about me which makes you think I would be a good friend to you? I would never advise you only speak with people your own age, but friendship is different, it requires an emotional connection which is still inappropriate."
 
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Come on, sir! We already have an emotional connection."

"Yeah, all of your students do," said the other one flirtatiously. "How can you not? You're just that kind of person."
 
"I am not that sort of person." He replied definitively, "I care for you no less than any of my students: but I care for you no more, either. Any sense of connection you feel beyond that is one-sided. You do not know me like you believe you do."
 
"And whose fault is that? Not ours," pouted the curvier one.

"Oh, come on, let's go," huffed one of the other girls who had been standing back. "It's his own fault if he misses out."

The bustier one tried one more time. "You could at least pick us out a flower or two."
 
"You are more than welcome to pick out flowers," Dark replied, gesturing to the fact they were in a flower shop, "We are having a sale on daisies, they come in a great variety of colours. I do not need to be your friend to help you pick flowers, salesmen are rarely our friends."
 
"My friend Mr. Walsh would want me to tell you I think you should get daisies, because they are on sale." Dark replied dryly, knowing this would not be sufficient for them. So, he took a breath, and asked, "Were you interested in a single flower or a bouquet?"
 
The girls gave up and slowly agreed to various flowers around the shop. Most of them got daisies. One girl did try to present Dark with a daisy, smiling at him as she said it represented her thanks for all he'd done.
 
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