Chapter Text
The walls are white.
That’s always the first thing Alhaitham notes when he wakes up. It’s been three months since his grandmother’s passing. Two since he sold his childhood home and used the money to buy a house closer to his university. It was a charming red brick 3-bedroom, 2-bath with a fenced backyard in a quiet suburb, walking distance from a park and community pool, and a short drive to Jair’s new school. A quintessential image of a picture-perfect home, complete with a picket fence. And the walls were white.
The walls in Alhaitham’s childhood bedroom had been light blue. The color of the sky, his mother used to say, so that Alhaitham could dream of soaring to whatever heights he wished. The walls in his college dorm had been an uninspiring, dull beige, although he hadn’t cared enough to decorate it in any particular way. So his roommate, a biochemistry major with a serious case of RBF, had taken it upon himself to fill the walls from top to bottom with posters and other memorabilia from a card game he was obsessed with. He managed to rope Alhaitham and even the horticulture major who lived across the hall into playing on more than one occasion. The three of them still kept in touch, they’d even helped Alhaitham move into his first apartment post-graduation. The walls there had been a cool gray, practical in his eyes, bleak in his grandmother’s. A home needs color, she had said, to which Alhaitham had pointed out that gray was a color.
He wonders what color she would’ve picked for the walls here.
-
Alhaitham’s mornings start about the same every day. Wake up, shower while the coffee’s brewing, get dressed, and then wake up Jair and help him get ready for school. Jair hadn’t been particularly thrilled about his new school, citing all manner of potential disastrous outcomes.
“What if I never make friends?”
“What if I get lost forever?”
“What if the cafeteria food is yucky?”
“What if my teacher is really mean and hates me?”
Alhaitham had to keep reassuring Jair every day that these scenarios were unlikely, right up until he dropped him off on the first day.
“Your new school will be just like your old school,” Alhaitham had repeated for what felt like the millionth time since this whole debacle started.
“But what if it’s not?” Jair fretted.
“Then you’ll adjust,” he’d answered simply.
Alhaitham had been right about Jair’s new school, of course. Jair didn’t have issues with his classmates, he hadn’t gotten lost, the cafeteria food was decent, and his teacher obviously didn’t hate him. No, his teacher hated Alhaitham.
Well, hate was a strong word, but Alhaitham had definitely not given the instructor a reason to like him.
“You have to go see Mr. Kaveh today when you pick me up,” Jair announces in the middle of breakfast.
“I know, you’ve been reminding me all week,” Alhaitham replies without looking up from his newspaper.
“It’s ‘cause you didn’t go last time. Mr. Kaveh said he waited for you for a long time,” his brother says, emphasizing his words with a judgy look.
“I was busy.”
That was a half-truth. To be fair, Alhaitham was always busy these days, much to his dismay. If he wasn’t studying or working on his thesis, then he was at pediatric appointments or helping with homework or getting groceries and walking up and down the cereal aisle in search of the very specific brand Jair requested. Alhaitham had made the mistake once of buying a cheaper alternative and his brother had gone on a long rant about how, “they look the same, but they’re not the same because they don’t have the blue rings and the blue rings are the best ones and this doesn’t have the blue rings!” Both cereals tasted exactly the same to Alhaitham, but he’d learned his lesson that day.
So yes, Alhaitham was always busy, and he hadn’t wanted to spend his first free afternoon in weeks at a meeting with someone he was almost certain couldn’t stand him.
Their first meeting had been slightly less than amicable. The school had hosted a Meet the Teacher night prior to the start of the school year. Alhaitham, along with a handful of other parents and guardians, had filled the third-grade classroom, brightly decorated with student artwork and walls lined with colorful posters.
At the front of the classroom stood a young man, probably not that much older than Alhaitham. He was dressed comfortably in a white cotton button up and jeans, red clips held back his golden hair. He’d regarded the group with a polite smile before introducing himself as Mr. Kaveh, then gone into detail about his background, his teaching methods, his expectations for the parents, and other things that Alhaitham had slowly tuned out by popping in an inconspicuous earbud.
Alhaitham wasn’t trying to be rude, he just figured he could use the time to get ahead on his readings. Still, his mind had wandered away from his audiobook, focusing instead on what he would make for dinner and making a mental note to schedule Jair’s sitter next week for Alhaitham’s evening exam and-
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wear headphones while I’m speaking.”
Alhaitham blinks and lifts his gaze to meet ruby irises glaring down at him with mild annoyance. At some point, Kaveh had made his way to the back of the classroom and was now standing in front of the desk where Alhaitham was seated.
“They’re earbuds, actually,” Alhaitham responds flatly, which only earns him another disapproving look from the third-grade teacher.
“Is that so, Mister …?” Kaveh trails off while looking Alhaitham up and down, taking in his seemingly apathetic aura.
“Alhaitham,” he replies, and Kaveh nods.
“Well Mr. Alhaitham, you’d do well to listen to music on your own time, if you don’t mind. It’s important that you don’t miss a single detail of what we discuss today,” Kaveh chides before returning to the front of the classroom to continue where he’d left off. Alhaitham wants to correct him, but ultimately decides against it in favor of having this godforsaken meeting end already. He was supposed to let the sitter go in about half an hour; he didn’t want to hold her for longer than he’d intended.
The last thing Kaveh does is project a QR code on the whiteboard behind him, prompting everyone to scan it and join a group chat before they leave. Alhaitham barely gives it a second look. He’s already halfway out the door when Kaveh calls out to him.
“Mr. Alhaitham, you forgot to join,” the blond says as he gestures to the whiteboard.
“No, I didn’t,” Alhaitham replies with zero hesitation, not missing the way Kaveh’s eyes narrow ever so slightly.
“Well, like I explained earlier, if you join the group chat, it’ll be easier for me to keep you in the loop throughout the school year. I promise I won’t spam,” he elaborates through an obviously forced smile.
“I know what you said. I’m simply not interested. If you must really inform me of something, you may reach me via email. Have a good evening,” Alhaitham states dryly without room for argument before turning and walking out the door, missing the look of complete disbelief on Kaveh’s face as he goes.
Since then, Alhaitham kept their interactions to a minimum, or at least tried to. Kaveh had been requesting a one-on-one meeting with Alhaitham for weeks now, and Jair had not let him forget it.
“Promise you’ll see Mr. Kaveh today,” Jair urges him once more, and Alhaitham relents.
“I will, I promise.”
He hoped he wouldn't regret that promise.
-
Alhaitham arrives at Jair’s elementary school at exactly 3:45 PM, just as the children are being dismissed. Kids of all ages run out alone or in groups, laughing, clamoring, thankful that their uneventful school day is over, and they can finally return to far more important things. Alhaitham’s gaze doesn’t stray as he enters the building, doesn’t linger on the mother scolding her son for forgetting his jacket in the classroom, or the father taking his daughter’s backpack and slinging it over his shoulder as they walk down the concrete steps. He pays no attention, simply keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead as he makes his way down the hallway towards room 304.
The classroom’s door is ajar, Alhaitham can make out Jair’s voice along with an older male’s as he approaches. He catches a glimpse from the doorway of Jair pointing eagerly at something in a picture book and rambling, while Kaveh nods along with a patient smile.
Alhaitham clears his throat to get their attention. Jair’s face lights up as he spots Alhaitham, before turning back to Kaveh with an excited grin.
“See, I told you he’d come, Mr. Kaveh! I told you!” Jair bubbled.
Kaveh gives a strained laugh and nods along. “Yes, yes Jair, you were right. Why don’t you grab another book from the shelf and wait for your brother outside?”
Alhaitham nods when Jair looks to him for approval.
“Won’t be long,” Alhaitham assures him, giving the seven-year-old a pat on the head as he walks out to the hallway and closes the door behind him, leaving Alhaitham and Kaveh alone.
Kaveh clears his throat awkwardly and gestures to the chair across from his desk, which Alhaitham takes.
“Thank you for making time to meet with me today, Mr. Alhaitham. I know you’re quite busy, seeing as you were unable to make it to our last meeting,” Kaveh remarks, making a not so subtle jab at him.
“Right,” Alhaitham replies unfazed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat.
Kaveh’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Well, let’s get started, shall we?”
-
Kaveh doesn’t go over anything Alhaitham hadn’t expected. Jair’s grades were good, he was respectful and well-behaved in class. Overall, nothing but praise.
Alhaitham’s expression is unimpressed; he already knew his brother was a good student. “Is that all?” He asks. This could’ve been an email.
“Well, no,” Kaveh responds with just a note of exasperation, before clearing his throat and continuing. “I was wondering if there was anything going on at home? Any big changes recently?”
Alhaitham stares blankly at Kaveh. In just the last three months, they’d parted with their childhood home, moved to a new place, started living together for the first time in years, and buried their grandmother. It’d be easier to list what hadn’t changed.
“Not in particular,” Alhaitham answers. “Why?”
Kaveh clears his throat again and shifts in his chair. “Well, it seems to me like Jair might be a having a bit of trouble, erm, adjusting.”
Alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly. “I thought you said he was doing well in class.”
“He is, he is,” Kaveh says quickly before adding, “But he seems to be struggling to connect with his classmates. During recess, he tends to keep to himself, and he doesn’t really engage with the other kids in class.”
The corners of Alhaitham’s mouth pull downwards. He did not like where this conversation was heading. “He’s reserved. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Of course not,” Kaveh agrees. “But it just seems to me that Jair might be a little,” he hesitates and looks away, choosing his next word carefully. “Lonely.”
Lonely. The word gives Alhaitham pause. Jair could be quiet, shy even, but lonely? Why would his brother be lonely? It takes Alhaitham a moment to realize Kaveh is still speaking.
“So, I guess what I’m wondering is what steps are you taking at home to help Jair adjust?” Kaveh asks.
“Pardon?”
“What steps are you taking at home to help him adjust?” The teacher repeats himself. “Children Jair’s age require a lot of support and reassurance when transitioning into something new. It’s imperative that their guardian be involved.”
“Are you suggesting I’m not involved enough?” Alhaitham questions with a raised eyebrow.
“What? No, that’s not-,” Kaveh stops, taking a second to reign in his growing irritation before pressing on calmly. “I just want to make sure he has the support he needs, both inside and outside the classroom.”
Alhaitham studies Kaveh. Thin brows pinched over carmine eyes, pink lips pressed into a fine line. Alhaitham didn’t doubt that he was just trying to do his job and do it well, but frankly, a nosy teacher was the last thing Alhaitham wanted to deal with right now.
“I appreciate the concern, Mr. Kaveh, but you have no knowledge of me and my brother’s circumstances outside this room, so I would be grateful if you didn’t make baseless assumptions about my competence as Jair’s guardian,” Alhaitham says sharply as he stands up.
“That is not what I’m saying at all!” Kaveh protests, rising with Alhaitham. “And if you don’t want me to make so-called ‘baseless assumptions’ then please, tell me what your circumstances are.”
Alhaitham scoffs. “That's not necessary. I understand that you’re just trying to do your job, but your intrusiveness is, to be frank, unwelcomed. I ask that you kindly focus on simply being his teacher, and let me handle the rest.” He makes his way to the door, not sparing Kaveh a second glance.
The finality and arrogance in Alhaitham’s tone infuriates Kaveh, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can think twice. “Are you sure that you’re actually handling it?” He bites his tongue as soon as he says it.
Alhaitham stills and looks back at Kaveh with a stare so frigid, Kaveh doesn’t even breathe. Kaveh’s been told off by parents plenty of times now, he can take whatever Alhaitham is about to throw at him, he thinks. Alhaitham opens his mouth and Kaveh’s hands form fists at his sides, bracing himself.
“Have a good evening, Mr. Kaveh,” is all Alhaitham says, his voice quiet and measured. Without another word, Alhaitham opens the classroom door and steps into the hallway, where Jair is waiting. He silently motions for Jair to follow him before walking away.
“Bye, Mr. Kaveh! See you tomorrow!” grinned Jair before trailing after his brother.
“Bye,” Kaveh replies with a weak wave before falling back into his chair. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair, the other resting over his chest. If his anxiously racing heart was any indication, that was, most definitely and absolutely, a disaster.
-
What a mess.
Kaveh’s words ring in Alhaitham’s head the entire drive back to the house.
“Are you sure that you’re actually handling it?” Of course I’m handling it. What a ridiculous question.
He keeps his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his index finger tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel. Were all teachers this presumptuous? Alhaitham had never met someone so adamant in wedging himself into matters that didn't pertain to him. And for what? What could Kaveh possibly gain from involving himself in their lives? Some altruistic sense of satisfaction from extending a hand to two, oh, so unfortunate souls? Please. Alhaitham didn't need pity. He didn't need it seven years ago, he didn't need it three months ago, and he didn't need it now. And certainly not from a stubborn, patronizing, nosy-
“It’s red!”
Jair’s voice suddenly snaps Alhaitham back into focus, and the car comes to a screeching halt just a foot past the intersection. Alhaitham breathes out once, twice, then glances at Jair through the rearview mirror.
“Sorry. Are you alright?” He asks, gauging his brother’s reaction. It was unlike Alhaitham to get distracted this way, he hoped he hadn’t startled Jair too much.
Jair nods quietly in response, though giving Alhaitham a funny look. “Alhaitham are you sleepy? I can tell you what we did in school today so you don’t fall asleep,” he offers.
Alhaitham breathes out through his nose, amused and relieved Jair was seemingly unaffected by the incident. “Sure,” he replies just as the stoplight turns green, and they continue on their way.
Jair chats idly about his day, what they served for lunch, how many speckled rocks he’d found during recess, mourning the loss of his favorite pencil only to find it had been in his backpack all along and the pencil he'd lost hadn't actually been his favorite one. As Alhaitham listens to him, the light cadence of his voice paired with carefree words, he has to wonder, why? Why would anyone think this child, so bright and earnest, could be lonely? In Alhaitham's mind, the only plausible answer was that Kaveh’s judgment had simply been wrong.
As if somehow summoning him through Alhaitham's thoughts alone, Jair brings up his teacher.
“Did you like talking with Mr. Kaveh? I always like talking to him. He knows a lot of stuff, like you! He’s really cool,” Jair gushes unabashedly.
Alhaitham huffs quietly, holding back a sarcastic quip and instead replying with, “Yeah. Your teacher sure is… something.”
He can't help but feel grateful when they finally turn down their street and their red-brick at the end of the cul-de-sac comes into view. Alhaitham felt a weariness he wasn't familiar with. His day had been dreadfully long and muddled by affronts that he did not wish to spend even a single second thinking about any longer.
“Oh, by the way, you have to throw me a birthday party,” Jair states casually as they pull into the driveway.
“I’m sorry?”
“Ash Torres said that if it's your birthday, then you need to have a party. Everyone always has a birthday party, and they invite the whole class. So I have to have one too,” he elaborates.
Well, that was just… “Ridiculous,” Alhaitham mutters under his breath before turning his head towards the backseat.
“You barely even know those kids. It would be a waste of time and money. You should know better than to be so easily influenced by the opinions of strangers, Jair,” Alhaitham says sternly.
Jair flinches, clearly not expecting his brother’s stony response. “But we’re not strangers! We're in the same class,” he argues.
“Spending a few hours a day in a room with someone hardly merits organizing an entire party just to appease them. Plus, your birthday is in less than a week. I won’t have time to put together such a last minute ordeal. Have you considered that?” With every word Alhaitham uttered, he could feel his patience thinning. He couldn’t believe his brother would make such an absurd request, especially when he’d never been interested in celebrating his birthday this way before.
Jair’s eyebrows sunk as he glared down at his tightly-knit hands, his lips twisting into a disappointed frown. “Grandma would throw me a party,” he mumbled.
“Yes, well, grandmother is not here anymore, is she?” Alhaitham snaps.
The boy’s head jerks upwards to meet Alhaitham’s hardened gaze with stunned silence. The atmosphere inside the car becomes stifling, weighed down by a grim reminder of a reality neither brother was fully used to living in yet.
It takes Alhaitham a moment to register the harshness of his words, and another moment for him to regret them immediately. “Jair-”
“You don’t care about me at all!” Jair cries out as he storms out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
Alhaitham lets him go. He should have known better than to lose his temper on a seven-year-old over something so petty, and he should have especially known better than to use his grandmother's passing in such a childish remark. He lets his head fall against the steering wheel. Not for the first time today, Alhaitham felt tired. His exhaustion echoed in the hollows of his bones and reverberated through every bend and corner of his body until it finally pushed past his lips in the form of a shaky breath.
He looks up, eyes landing on Jair who stood at the porch, back turned to Alhaitham as he waited for him to come and unlock the front door. Under different circumstances, Alhaitham might have found it a little endearing.
Alhaitham closes his eyes as he thinks.
He’d let Jair have his space for tonight, and then he would apologize in the morning. They would revisit the birthday party subject and Alhaitham would help Jair understand that it was unnecessary. And then they would be able to move on from all this. He just needed to adjust his approach. Easy. He’d become really familiar with adjusting in recent years, after all. Jair would learn too, in time.
But for now, he’d simply let him be, and Alhaitham would collapse in his bed and stare at the white walls until his body eventually succumbed to the sweet respite of sleep.