Feeling a rising awkwardness, Leila made her best attempt at nodding, feeling a little sheepish that she had to assure anyone she was being earnest. The problem was, she hadn’t been earnest about anything in years. “Maybe not happy, then,” she acknowledged, in a plainer tone, “but hopefully - better?” Not as shitty as the last year? That was always a start.
She might make a better start to the next year if she actually tried to improve things for herself, but that meant... “Mr. Westerman,” she said, clearing her throat and gripping the bottle she was holding to dissuade herself from... well, bottling this. “About - what you said last time we met.” Merlin, she hoped he even remembered that conversation. Maybe he hadn’t been playing it over and over in his mind for the last few months whenever he felt especially miserable. (Mm, probably not.) But - “I don’t know if you remember your, er, offer - of teaching, but -” Her face creased into a frown from the effort of trying to phrase this in a way he would understand, and she looked at him pleadingly as she finished in a rush, “- did you mean it?”
She might make a better start to the next year if she actually tried to improve things for herself, but that meant... “Mr. Westerman,” she said, clearing her throat and gripping the bottle she was holding to dissuade herself from... well, bottling this. “About - what you said last time we met.” Merlin, she hoped he even remembered that conversation. Maybe he hadn’t been playing it over and over in his mind for the last few months whenever he felt especially miserable. (Mm, probably not.) But - “I don’t know if you remember your, er, offer - of teaching, but -” Her face creased into a frown from the effort of trying to phrase this in a way he would understand, and she looked at him pleadingly as she finished in a rush, “- did you mean it?”
