"I'm fine." There came a noise that may have been a sniffle, but it was too tough to tell. "I found out where the timers are being made. Can you meet me there?" * * * He smiled, opening the door wider. "Hey, Cal! Come on in."
He spoke quickly. "Yeah, yeah. Send me the address." *** She stepped in, readjusting the bag on her shoulder. "Thanks! I hope I'm not too early."
"Okay. Okay. I'll see you there in an hour?" * * * "No, you're right on time," he assured her. He addressed the class. "Hey, everyone! This is Ms. Meiz." The air was filled with childish greetings and one blond boy raised his hand. "Meiz? Like a corn maze?"
Landon nodded. "Yes, that works." *** Callie crossed her arms, a small smile on her face. "Nah. Meiz as in 'a-meiz-ing'."
"Alright," she said. "See you then." * * * The class burst into giggles, and the little boy cocked his head. "Isn't that the same pronunciation, though?" Arlo cleared his throat. "Thank you, Rupert. Alright, Ms. Meiz is going to have six of you go to the back table, okay? Becca? You go first, okay?" A small, skinny brown girl frowned. "But Arlo, I didn't do anything!" Arlo smiled. "It's not punitive, Becs. Just head on back, okay?"
He hung up, his brows furrowed in worry as he went to leave. *** Callie went to the back, setting her bag on the table and opening it, pulling out a tape measure.
(Tiny time skip?) *** Becca followed her back, her brow furrowed in worry. "What's going on, Ms. Meiz?"
(Yep!) *** "You can call me Callie," she said kindly. "Ms. Meiz is a bit formal." She knelt down, pulling out a notebook and writing something. "I heard you've been coming to school without a sweater, so I'm going to make some."
Val walked down the street. Her appearance was a little less severe today, wearing a brown shirt instead of her trademark black. Her hair was astray, and a bit of her tattoo peeked out on her neck. *** The girl's eyes grew wide. "Could it be orange?! I love orange."
Landon stood patiently on the curb, peering down thoughtfully at a drain. *** Callie smiled, writing in the book before using the measuring tape. "Of course. Could you put her arms out for me?"
Val approached him, her arms crossed. Her eyes were rimmed with red from crying. "Hey." *** The girl did as she asked, squirming excitedly.
He looked up at her, his expression concerned as he saw her state. "Are you okay?' *** Callie took the measurements, writing them down as she did so. After a bit, she stood up again. "Okay, you're all set for now."
He crossed his arms. "You can talk to me. *** "Of course. I just need the next kid. Can you ask Arlo to send them back?"
Her lower lip trembled and she shook her head as she looked down. "Please don't." *** The girl nodded and hurried away.
He put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." *** Callie continued writing, pulling her glasses out and putting them on to see.
She took a deep breath before her jaw hardened. "Come on. Let's go inside." *** The girl went up to Arlo and spoke to him quietly. "Bryce! You're next!" A little boy with a perpetually running nose stood up and headed back to her.
He nodded, his hands in his pockets. "Okay. Let's go." *** Callie glanced up, picking up the measuring tape. "Sup Bryce. I'm making you a sweater, so is there any color or pattern you'd like?"
She walked ahead of him, pulling her hair back. "I'm not quite sure what this facility is," she said quietly as they approached the abandoned looking warehouse. "So we're kinda winging it." *** The boy tilted his head, confused. "Why are you making me a sweater?"
He nodded, observing the building with caution. "I see.." *** "Cause I guess you've been coming to school without one?"
