AN: This is the first Degrassi fic I've written, and the first fic I've written that made it to 1000 words. Booyah. :) ALSO: Time lapse. Adam graduated high school, went to college for one career and did that for awhile, quit, went back to college, became a teacher. This is about 14-15 years after graduation, putting Adam at 32 years old and Bianca at 33, meaning she got pregnant a year or so after she graduated.

It's weird as hell, the first time he sees her after high school. Of course it is - it's always weird when something from the past collides with the present. He guesses he should've expected it - moving back here, but he hadn't thought about it. Or at least he hadn't thought about her still being here. Well, he hadn't thought about her much after her graduation and subsequent disappearance, except for a few odd dreams in college - he's officially a teacher, as of this year, at Degrassi Community School - and one weird conversation with Drew, who's living in the states right now.

None of that involved watching her grocery shopping, so he's pretty sure he's awake right now. He's also pretty sure he's a chicken, because the second she looks at him he bolts.

He's not going to think about why.

It bothers him, in the back of his mind, for about a week. The first week of school, to be exact. Thankfully teaching classes, on his own, for the first time, is a good distraction. He's got a mostly good bunch of students, smart kids, as far as he can tell. A few rowdy kids, but that's to be expected. It's high school. Beyond that, it's Degrassi. And only one student asks him "why the hell did you come back here?"

It's a good question. He doesn't answer it.

Monday, the 2nd week of school, a couple more students trickle in. One missed the first week for family issues, one for 'no reason given,' but he's guessing the first one skipped and the second had issues.

There's a couple transfers too, a shy kid who stutters when he introduces himself to the class and another boy who looks slightly familiar, and doesn't introduce himself at all. As far as Adam can tell, he doesn't talk all class. He doesn't learn his name until the next morning, when he gets the email about the new students - late, of course. According to the other teachers, the principal is a 'lazy bum.'

His successful avoidance ends there - the silent student's name is Jackson DeSousa.

He has a feeling that the mid-semester Parent's Night might be awkward.

They don't make it that far. Come friday, Jackson's skipped three days out of the week, and it's Adam's job to call home about it.

It takes him 20 minutes to dial the number. It's - unexplainable. There's no reason for this to be awkward, there was no reason for him to flee the grocery store like that. The tiny bit of 'history' they had was negligible at best, he's sure it didn't even count as memorable to her - but seeing her... she hardly looks any different than high school - a little less skin, a different haircut, jeans not as tight and not torn - still definitely not someone you forget seeing, and he still wanted - the same thing, when he looked at her.

And that's weird. He's definitely not the same - his deal with his mother was that he'd just pass until he graduated high school, moved out, 'came of age,' so to speak. Waiting, to be frank, sucked, and he dove into transitioning as soon as he could in college. He's not done, never really will be, but he's. Different than he was in high school. He's had relationships, long ones and short ones, he'd even managed a couple one night stands. He kinda thought he was past the girl-from-high-school-that-he-liked-but-he-got-outed thing. Actually really thought he was long past it.

She sounds almost the same when she answers the phone, too, but tired, and older, "DeSousa Residence, what do you want?"

Yeah, almost the same.

He chokes on her first name, she makes a wasting-my-time sighing sound, and he goes with, "I need to speak to you about your son, Ms. DeSousa."

A meeting is scheduled for the next day, quicker than he expected but that's good. For the student, that's what's best, and that's what this is about.

And she didn't recognize his voice, and that's good too, but he's not sure how or why.

He has a dream that she shows up in sweats, and he's in a full on suit, and - well, that's as much as he'll admit to. His only guess at it's meaning is he's taking this too seriously, and she's the sane one, in that she doesn't care.

And also that he's a pervert.

She doesn't show up in sweats. She shows up in normal clothes - jeans, again, in his imagination they fit more snuggly than the grocery store pair, and a blue top, in his imagination, it dips lower, in his imagination, he's wondering if she did know it was him calling.

In the real world, he does his best to meet her eyes, and he goes for the professional handshake, and she laughs at him.

He blanks, surprised, and she shakes her head, "You think I don't remember you?"

"I wasn't sure," he shrugs, relaxing a little. She takes a seat on one of the desks, and he - not reminded of that dream at all - does the same on his own. This can be comfortable.

She beats him to the opening, "You're not going to fail my kid 'cause I was a bitch in high school, right?"

"No," he chuckles, after a minute, "But I may have to if he keeps skipping 3 days a week."

It's not a horrible meeting, all in all. She says she'll talk to Jackson, and they make small talk for a few minutes after - she's good, she's got two kids, actually, but she's not married, never has been. He makes a couple barely not bad jokes, but gets a smile, and when she's walking out the door he manages to say it was nice to see her and leave it at that.

He feels very mature when he gets home. They behaved like adults, managed to put the past behind them.

But... when they did talk in high school, it was different, and honestly he misses the comfortable mocking, and the slight bite to everything she said.

They don't talk again until before midterms, at Parent's Night. She shows up alone, says she had to have Jackson watch his little sister, and she'd rather talk to his teachers without him around anyways. She's more dressy, no jeans this time, and she ends up in his classroom at the end of the evening, when everyone's tired and barely paying attention. He talks about the curriculum, upoming assignments, but honestly he's not even listening to himself now. A couple of parents have questions, but simple ones, and the classroom is almost empty 20 minutes before the night's officially over.

Except her. She stays. He drops into his uncomfortable chair, shuts his eyes for a second, and when he opens them she's leaning on the front of his desk, all amused smile, and she offers to help clean up the coffee and snacks he somehow thought was a good idea.

Fifteen minutes later, she has her arms around his neck and he's pressing her into the - thankfully empty of pointy tacks - crepe paper covered bulletin board. He's not sure how it happened, but he thinks either he lost his mind and nearly fell on her, or she lost her mind and yanked him in. He really doesn't care, the warmth of her under his hands, the sounds she makes as he licks his way inside her mouth, the way she tugs a little at the hair on the back of his neck - all extremely more important.

He's not sure how much time passes before she's pushing him back and somewhat absently noting that she should get home, it's late, but it feels like forever, and he can't help but smirk a little when she looks in a little mirror and groans, "Look what you did."

"You liked it." He barely manages not to laugh at the look she gives him, and instead grabs her hand and pulls her back toward him, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

"It was good to see you."