(no subject)

[dontjudgeabook]

It's October already, and he still hasn't managed to exchange more than awkward smiles and pleasantries with Abbie. Last time he'd worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation in the faculty lounge, he'd spilled creamer all over his sweater.

It's not even that she doesn't seem perfectly nice, or that she gives off an intimidating vibe, or anything like that, just that she's so pretty, and anyway, Jason the hot English teacher is always hanging around her with his muscles bulging out of his shirt and Dallin can't compete with that.

Today's the day, though. He's going to do it. He's brought a lunch that can be eaten without looking dorky and he's going to sit with her and have an actual conversation. He slips into the lounge on his break and starts making himself a cup of tea, careful with the creamer this time, giving her a small tight smile like he always does.

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[thislastrequest]

It's ... sort of understandable. It's early enough in the school year to still be ... trying to find a comfortable rhythm. Or maybe that's just Abbie, considering this is her first counseling job since her matriculation from grad school. Maybe she's just ... slow to acclimate. Everyone's been extremely welcoming, though, and she's glad for that - even the coffee incident, when she'd been the first to offer assistance and napkins.

But then there'd been a long period of no words, just those small, fleeting smiles, and she wonders if she'd inadvertently done something that made it easier for Dallin to keep a distance rather than, y'know, actually sharing more words. And there have been times when she's wanted to strike up a conversation first, but she couldn't quite find a way to tell Jason the Hot English Teacher that she wasn't interested in hearing any more of his Shakespeare recitations, and she usually ended up either sitting through them, or having lunch in her office.

Today, though, nothing's going to get in her way. Today, she's determined to have an actual conversation, Jason be damned. She murmurs an apology, cutting him off mid-sonnet, and hurriedly makes her way to Dallin's side. "Is he staring? I think he might be staring. Oh, God, please rescue me."

Not quite how she imagined that first conversation to go, but she can't exactly take it back now.