true to his newfound rebellious ways, aaron wasn’t particularly close with any teachers – not like some of his friends, rubbing elbows and probably kissing serious ass. but there a comfort, he supposed, in showing up to a classroom and finding a friend. it was weirdly thrilling to hear a teacher curse, like seeing them outside of school; it reminded you that they too, were people. aaron made a mental note that he…liked this.
“gross. i bet they’re mostly the americans, right?” he laughed, even though aaron had tried to remain unbiased against their hosts. “it’s never in the fun way, i’m starting to learn.” with a sigh, aaron moved away from the door frame, instead sitting atop one of the desks, clearly rickety, probably unsafe to even breathe near. “was it you that burned it down, then?” he asked, ninety-eight percent joking – “tired of us ungrateful teens, wanting to get rid of us for good?”
Silas had been told more times than he could care to remember that you can’t swear in front of the kids, Lancaster. But Silas was of the firm belief that you couldn’t baby them. They were teenagers. Even if there were any of them naiive (read: stupid) enough to be offended by a few curse words -- which he highly doubted -- wasn’t it his job as an educator to prepare them for real life?
“All Americans,” he confirmed. “You can tell from the sense of superiority and simultaneous whining.” Not that he wasn’t grateful to be invited here, especially given how bad things were back home, but as it turned out, American kids were somehow way more annoying than the Dumfries boys, or even the Wardlaw girls were.
“Well if I had, it would’ve been an ill-conceived plan,” he told Aaron. “Considering I wound up with more of you in the end.”
