originallutece | (no subject)

She was. She was brilliant, frankly — ambitious, clever, hardworking. She made a name for herself in her career of choice and then struck out on her own to start her own company and do the same thing, except better than anyone else.

[She shrugs a little, absently running her hands through her thick mass of hair and pushing it away from her face.]

I remember when people would see us together, they'd sometimes ask me, "are you going to be the next Ari Sandiego", and she would always interrupt and say no, I was going to be the first Carmen Sandiego.

[It's a sweet story, but it makes Rosalind think again of their earlier conversation-- about the hollow feeling of seemingly not being missed.]

. . . if you don't wish to speak of it, we won't. But if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something about where you were the past month.

About this last month? Of course, go ahead.

[She tilts her head a little, curious.]

You said you took care of a few of the younger ones stuck there. Miss Sandiego, you said they called you. Were you . . . is that something you're used to, caring for teenagers like that?

[She's leading up to something, but one thing at a time.]

...No, not really. If I'm being honest, I don't think I did a very good job of it. It's one thing to help and encourage children their age, but to act as a guardian in any sort of meaningful capacity...?

[She shakes her head.]

Why?

There's a boy I used to teach when he was a child. He moved here from England, and lately we've been reconnecting. I suspect he looks to me as his parental figure in the absence of his father, given I knew him when he was young and the age difference between us. On top of that, there's a few others who have started to . . . I suppose look up to me as some kind of authority figure.

[She wrinkles her nose.]

I'm hardly suited towards it. I suppose I hoped you might have some advice, but it sounds as if we're in the same boat.

Oh. You've acquired yourself a troupe of admirers, have you?

[The face Rosalind makes gets a laugh out of her, and she shifts to better facilitate nudging her on top of it.]

The hard part is that they're always watching. It's knowing that when something happens, they're going to look to you — not just for answers, but for reassurance. You'll be the model from which they'll take their own cues about how to judge and react to the situation at hand.

For those weeks...anything I was feeling, my moments of vulnerability, my personal hangups and difficulties — they had to be surmounted, and immediately, and alone. It didn't mean I always had to know what to do, or even that I had to solve ever problem we were faced with, quite the contrary. But I always had to be the one giving off the impression that everything was going to be all right. And sometimes that's a difficult burden to bear, when you have to take even something like a trauma and put it away for later, because they need you to keep holding up the sky on your shoulders for the sake of the ones that are watching you to see if it's falling.

[It's sound advice, and she nods as she takes it in. It's also not something impossible to accomplish; Rosalind isn't prone to panicking easily, and she suspects if she can bear up over the past month's horrors, she can bear up under almost anything. But . . .]

And when they come asking about personal affairs?

Then that depends on the personal affairs in question, doesn't it?

[She cocks her head slightly, quizzical.]

Romantic.

[Hrhgh.]

...So boys are asking you for love advice, which has led to you asking me for advice about giving boys love advice?

[ 8D ]

Essentially, yes.

[A beat, and then:]

It's the one boy, for now. The others are more generally life advice.

Tell him to never forget to love himself most, first. Being adored will never make you happy if you can't adore yourself just as much.

What sort of romantic questions are you getting from him?

I don't think that's a problem, fortunately.

[But hmm . . . ]

He wasn't certain if he had a crush or not. It seems rather obvious from the outside that he does, and he wanted to discuss the feeling in detail, right up until I suggested he might find his friend attractive, in which case he shut down.

Mmm. So he's embarrassed about his feelings? Or maybe he's just flustered about having to admit to them in front of someone whose opinion he values so highly.

Or perhaps both.

Frankly, as much as I care about him, and as easy as some of his personality is to read, there's parts that are still a mystery. I'm more familiar with his ten year old self than his current one.