How Green Becomes Wood

"No, it is no problem. Come along," He said, knowing generally where the twins would be.

Leading Peter to the gym, he walked up to the twins, and said to Xander, "It is good to see you must have finished your homework in the car," and then to the blond at his side, point at each twin individually, "this is Xander, and this is Alec. You two, this is Peter Hollis, and you have been assigned to show him around."
 
Xander didn't even dignify the slight dig with a blush, but he did look at Dark in confusion. A look matched by Alec as he peered up at Dark. This morning, Alec had chosen a particularly colorful outfit complete with a small, reasonable amount of eyeshadow. Xander had chosen - more like randomly grabbed from the less dirty pile on the floor - an especially ratty and torn outfit in black and red colors. The blond standing by Dark looked more like he belonged in an English boarding house as he smiled pleasantly up at them.

"Us?" the twins said in unison.

"Are you sure about that, Professor?" Xander asked doubtfully. "I'd think the school administration'd be worried I'd how him how to sneak out of school or which stall to smoke in."

"I thought they lost my file," Alec said meekly. "Half of my teachers forget to call my name during roll call."
 
"Perhaps it is a new system of engaging students who are difficult to engage," He replied, "but either way, it was not up to me, and it was your names on the sheet. So if you would not mind giving him a tour and helping him to acclimate, and try not to scare him off."

Again, Dark turned to Peter, "Alec is quiet and Xander is prickly, but they are both good kids if you get to know them, and I am sure they will both be very helpful and accommodating towards you." It was always a bit strange seeing Dark entirely in 'helpful teacher-mode' because he had to be... nice, like... outwardly nice, not his usual 'when you get to know him, he really does care,' self, because it really did prove that ultimately, he did care about the well being of all of the students at that dumb school, even if he would deny it to his grave.
 
Peter nodded, his eyes intent. "Yes, sir, I understand, and I appreciate your help in this matter. Ma qassart." He turned to Alec and Xander and grinned. "Hello! Yes, I'm from Australia, by way of New Zealand and before that England. No, we don't eat kangaroos in Australia. Yes, it's an island, but you can't drive from one side to the other in a day, it's a bit bigger than that. No, not quite everything is out to kill you, but quite a few will give you something to think about. No, despite having lived in England and Australia, I have no idea how to play cricket. And finally, I will not tell you about shrimp on a grill in my thickest accent."

Alec glanced up at Xander and smiled. "I think I like him."

Xander cocked his head, still leaned back on the bleachers. "I think you'll do," he agreed, looking at Peter. He glanced up at Dark and started to stand. "We can take it from here, Professor."
 
Dark blinked slightly, and looked at Peter strangely before saying, "...Laa shokr 'aala waajib... hal tatahadath alearabia?" Which was, rather simply, 'you should not thank me, it is my duty' and 'do you speak Arabic?' It was extremely rare for him to hear his own language outside of conversations with his wife, unless he was in one of places in the city where other Arabs gathered. And he certainly didn't expect to hear it from this kid of all people.
 
Peter looked up at Dark and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, sir, I'm not that fluent at it. My mother is pretty fluent, but I only know a few phrases. Enough to be polite, that's all. Much to my poor mother's exasperation. She really wanted me to be able to be an ambassador or something when I grew up but gave up pretty soon when all I'd learn were the jokes."
 
"Oh. Okay," He sighed, almost relieved, but also strangely disappointed, "I was only asking you if you spoke it, and telling you there is no need to thank me. Is your mother Arab?"

He knew he needed to get to class, and he knew Xander had already ushered him off, but he wasn't going to encounter someone speaking to him in his native tongue and just leave it alone, there needed to be follow up questions.
 
Peter shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir, but she did spend some time there interning at a laboratory in, uh... I forget the place, sorry, but that was before she met my father. She loved the place a lot. She'd probably flip if she knew about you, sir." He held up a hand quickly. "Not in an offensive way, sir, she'd just want to catch up and all of that. Have a chance to practice her Arabic."

Xander sighed and sat back down to wait.
 
"That is very interesting. Well, I am from Baghdad and my wife is from Cairo. If you ever learn where she studied, I would be very interested in knowing it. Well, I should leave you to your... tour." Dark said, and with a polite nod left the three boys alone and, at last, went to his classroom. Truth be told, he was relieved to know Peter's mother wasn't Arab, because when he said she was fluent, and he knew very little, he had a moment of fear imagining a world where his child didn't grow up being able to speak his language. Although, the twins couldn't... but to be fair, they had lived with him for less than six months and it necessitated learning to read a completely different alphabet in a completely different language, and they never seemed particularly interested in learning (not that he had ever stopped to ask), so he didn't try. Perhaps, he thought, sitting down at his desk, he should ask them sometime if they would like to learn it.
 
"He seemed rather disappointed, didn't he?" Peter mused. "And kind of happy. Oh, well, I'm sure it's not every day you meet someone from your turbulent home country." He turned back to Xander and Alec. "So! Where do we start?"

"Right here." Xander waved a hand. "Gym. Here you can play with balls without getting weird looks. It's loud, it's smelly, and it's uncomfortable, but it's easy to go unnoticed and unbothered." He stood and hopped down off the bleachers. "Next up, the enchanting hallways."

Peter smiled pleasantly as he followed Xander around, nodding seriously and occasionally making notes. They visited the restrooms, the cafeteria, the janitor's closet, and other spots of interest along the way. Alec pointed out things like the best picture from the art contest hanging unnoticed by the lockers, and Xander pointed out which security cameras were rumored to be on the blink. It was a fascinating tour, they were certain, but eventually they had to part ways when it came time for Dark's history class.

"It was a delight, friends," Peter said, shaking both their hands. "If I may impose upon you just a little more, would you be willing to show me where the marching band meets after school? I am supposed to audition to see if I am a good fit, I think they said."

"Oh? You are in band? What do you play?" Alec asked curiously.

"Well, I played at my old school, but not in the marching band," Peter admitted. "Still, I'd like to stick to the music some way! So, marching band drums it is!"

Alec moved to block him as he started to walk away. "You play drums?"

Peter nodded curiously. "Yes?"

Alec smiled at him. "You are my serendipity!"

Peter grinned, glancing at Xander. "Well, that's the first time I've ever been called that before!"

Xander rolled his eyes upward. "He gets excited. Don't worry about it. Come on, Alec, we gotta get to class."

"I'll talk with you later!" Alec called to Peter as they hurried away.
 
Dark stood in front of his class, arms crossed, and when Peter came in he pointed out the few empty desks, "We do not have assigned seating, except for what people self-assign, so for the health of the group, those are the unclaimed seats."

Then he sighed, and without moving or uncrossing his arms he said, "Alright, class, we have a new student today, this is Peter Hollis," there were a few vague greetings of Peter, mostly by the really preppy kids or the kids who thought they were funny saying Hi, Peter like they were in a group therapy session, "Yes, okay. So, I am going to take a few moments to remind all of you of my classroom policies. When you come into class, you sign my attendance sheet. I take it at the bell, if you have not signed in by then, you are counted as tardy unless you have something explaining why you were late. I do not care if you have just crossed the threshold when the bell rings, if you have not signed in, you are late. That is how it might work in college," He looked at some of his more argumentative students, "I know you may be thinking you have heard college is more lax than high school, but I can tell you from experience college is 50% extremely relaxed professors who do not care if you come to class wearing shoes, and 50% professors who make me look like the former. I do not give extra credit, whenever I have done, the students who do not need it do it, and those who desperately need to help their grade do not. I do not round grades, you earn the grade you get. Most of you want to go to college, which means, in a way, you are in competition with each other, and when the college admission board is comparing your GPA to that of your nemesis, you will be grateful if you left my class with an A- and they with a B+. I do not accept late work except in the cases where I am mandated by the school to do so," This was actually a lie, but a tactful one. He did not want to give his students the incentive to say, 'I forgot,' and turn it in the next day, and in most cases he did genuinely not grant extensions. But, ultimately he wasn't heartless, so if a student had a genuine reason, even if it wasn't the school-accepted reason, he'd give them some leeway. Fairly often, students who he knew were struggling with their home lives or their mental health would receive an email after missing an assignment offering an extension.

"Finally," he concluded, "all of my tests are open-book and open-note. You may not talk to each other, and you may not ask me for the answers, but the way I see it is thus: I am training you to survive in the 'adult world' and that means training you to expeditiously find the answers you need. If you are in the hospital and your nurse forgot the dosage of your medication, would you rather her guess and maybe get it wrong--which, could kill you--or would you rather her go and look it up to get it right?" He waited for the few murmurs and near-chuckles to subside, then he said, "Peter, I am not giving you a chance to introduce yourself, we do not have the time. Now," He clicked a button on his remote that controlled the powerpoint slide, "Louis XIV, the Sun King."
 
Peter nodded cordially to the other students as he took his seat and set his notebook in front of him. The administration's office hadn't been able to get all to his books to him as they'd run out of some of them, but they'd assured him they were on order. Until then, he could take a lot of notes and hope to make friends willing to share their books with him. He wrote down, "la Roi Soleil" and turned his attention to Dark, ignoring the twitters on either side of him.



Meanwhile, in the other history class, Xander was struggling desperately not to fall asleep while Alec had given up and was doodling faces in the margins of his notebook. They were also learning about the same King of France, but somehow the class had gotten off on a tangent about whether or not his hair was real and the benefits of wearing big, fluffy wigs.
 
Dark taught the class, and when the students began packing up early, he threatened them all with a pop quiz tomorrow and since, for him, this was never an empty threat, the students immediately stopped and continued to listen to him.

Then, when the bell rang, and all of the students were filing out he said, "Wait, Peter, I want to talk to you for a moment, you are not in trouble" He sat down in his desk chair, "I was not sure if I should let you know this, or if they have told you, but Alec and Xander are my foster kids, so... while they show you around and everything, make sure they are okay."
 
Peter gave Dark a confused look. "Sorry, sir, but I'm a mite confused. You want me to spy on your kids for you?" He smiled sympathetically. "You must be new to the fostering thing, then, if you'll pardon my insolence."
 
"No, I do not want you to spy, you do not need to--report to me, I just..." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of how not to completely out the twins as having no friends and therefore no support system outside of the home, "I cannot, you know, see if they are okay when I am working, and since you will be around them anyway, at least until you are settled, if you could... be friendly with them, I suppose." It was very awkward, because he supposed ultimately he was hoping to learn a bit about how they were doing, but in his defense, they had a lot going on at home.
 
Peter smiled, amusement sparking in his blue eyes. "I have an older cousin in Wales who fosters, sir, so I can understand a little bit of what you're going through," he said. "The thing is, fosters are just like having your own bio kids, just with a lot more built-in baggage and defensiveness. I'm happy to be friends with anyone and everyone, even Xander if he'll let me, but if they find out that you asked me to," he made a "ptt" noise, waving his hand as if it were a plane taking off. "There goes their trust of me, and they'll think you have no trust in them. It'll hurt your relationship worse than a cane tode in the mouth of a taipan."

He paused, tapping his chin. "You know, sir, if you're desperate enough to ask a kid who barely moved here and might have a whole suitcase of bad behaviors you didn't know about, why not just ask them yourself? Take them out for icecream, if that's your thing, and just have a nice, quiet little chat. Maybe a walk. You and one of them or both, if you prefer. Might be better than holding auditions for best friends."
 
Dark sighed, feeling like a bit like he should just walk outside and slam his head in his car door, "Right, well, it is on me to presume a kid who writes French with a grammatical mistake as the title of his notes is probably is not Public Enemy #1. But," He cleared his throat, "I apologize, we all had a late night, so..." He moved things around on his desk, "You should, go to your next class, probably."
 
Peter raised his brows briefly, surprised Dark had noticed that, but let it pass. "Probably so, but don't worry, sir. If you parent as good as you teach, you'll be fine. You'll get the hang of things! Why, in no time at all, you'll be an expert with whatever this drama is. Just in time for the next phase to come along and swamp your boat." He winked at Dark and chuckled before heading for the door. That was an incredibly awkward introduction to the school, but he couldn't blame the guy for trying. He wasn't close to his cousin due to the age gap, but he'd overheard enough conversations with his parents that he got the gist of the idea. Parenting was like navigating a white-water river, but at least then you usually had forwarding and a bit of a build-up. Fostering was like getting airdropped right in the middle of the rapids, especially with older kids. He let the conversation go and went looking for his next class, which he happily shared with the twins.
 
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Dark nodded and gladly let the boy go. He took solace in the fact he had only been doing this for five months, and if he had become a parent the old fashioned way, which now he was in the process of too, his kid wouldn't even be walking yet. But at least by the time the baby-in-process had grown to be a teenager, he would have gotten all of the stupid mistakes like that out of his system. Although--He had a horrific realization--they had been talking as if, and hoping that, the baby would be a girl, which just meant he would have a whole new set of ways to be awkward and weird.

But he had no time to consider the horrors of fatherhood, because his next class was already filing in, and so he had no choice but to redeliver the same lecture he had just gone through.
 
Lunchtime! The time to relax and chat with friends! Time to unwind! Especially if you brought lunch from home and didn't have to bother with the line.

Except that somehow, Alec had forgotten to pack the lunches that morning. Xander had neglected to notice. And so they sat in their usual corner trying to decide if it was worth the hassle of standing in line for food. Xander was of the opinion that very few foods were worth standing in that long of a line for, and public school cafeteria food was not one of them. Alec was of the opinion that he'd eaten plenty and was still full enough from breakfast not to need to. Which Xander took objection to and tried to remind him of exactly how little he'd eaten. Alec tartly told him he had no idea how full or empty his own personal stomach was as to mind his own food, thank you very much.

They were still arguing about it when Peter came bouncing up. "Milk in a carton!" he grinned. "I didn't think the Americas had this. Tourists always look at us so weird for having warm milk."

The twins stared at him for a moment before Xander pointed out, "It's still cold."

Peter looked slightly disappointed. "Oh. I thought that was just because it was next to the icecream. Anyway, may I join you?"

Xander frowned at him for a long moment. "Alright," he relented. "Guess you need to stick close to your guides."

"Exactly!" Peter slid into the seat and started poking at the mass of melted cheese, grand burger, and chips on his plate. "I think these are supposed to be what you call nachoes, am I right?"

"I call it puke on a plate, but, yeah, it's in the neighborhood of nachoes," Xander told him grumpily.

"And an entire bag of carrots. Looks like I'll be deafening myself, not that there's much hearing left to be lost in this cafeteria, right?" he grinned at them.

Alec managed a small smile in response, but Xander didn't bother.
 
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