//------------------------------// // Piece of Cake? // Story: Dear Dean... // by AppleJTZ //------------------------------// Sitting at the desk in her office, Dean Cadence read a small staple of documents in front of her. A pen in one hand, she occasionally made some remarks on the sides, underlining single words and sentences or scratching small portions. Some parts she had to read two or three times and ponder a moment about them, tipping with the end of her pen against her chin. After working through some of the pages for a while she pushed the documents away from her, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Gosh, this is supposed to be a simple-to-understand contract?” she moaned, leaning back in her chair. “And it’s just about regulating the use of the sports field after school!” Cadence was about to drop her head onto the table and bury her face in her arms. A knock on the door however made her quickly sit up straight. “Come in, please!” she called out friendlily. The door opened, and a student entered the office. He seemed a little nervous, staying with one foot in the hallway while clenching his hands around the edge of the door. “Um, D-dean Cadence?” he asked, tapping with his fingers on the wood. “H-hi. I, err, am the president of the bakery club... I mean former president... p-president of the former club. The club was closed after our school lost the baking competition in the Friendship Games, b-but you said a few weeks ago you wanted to make sure it was reopened, and I, well, just wanted to ask if you, you made any progress on, on that, or… or…” His voice steadily became quieter as he spoke, until it was just a faint whisper. Cadence smiled reassuringly at him. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten” she told him. “I didn’t have time to talk to Principal Cinch about it yet, but I address the issue as soon as possible. Once I remind her how renowned our school is for the bakery products of the students, I am sure she will undo that hasty decision.” The boy seemed to relax. “Thank you, Dean Cadence!” he said, his voice a lot more cheerful. He stepped out of her office again, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone Cadence slumped her shoulders, the corners of her mouth dropping slightly. With a tired look on her face she picked the pile of documents back up again, rummaging through them. There was still a good third left to be checked, and then she had to read it all over again at least one more time, probably even twice. Putting them back down again her gaze wandered to the rest of the documents on her “to-do”-staple, which was reaching up to her eye-level. Her gaze wandered to the clock. Still an hour until lunch. The dean fell back into her chair. Running her hands over her face she let out a long, frustrated sigh into her palms. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, before closing her eyes. It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy her job as a dean – helping the students in every way she could still gave her a great feeling. Lately, however, she sometimes thought it had been easier when she was a teenager herself. Crystal Prep had been a harsh place back then too, but outside of school, the only time she had to take responsibility for something was when she had been working as a babysitter, and even that hadn’t really felt like a chore to her. Opening her eyes she gazed towards one of the drawers of her desk. As she opened it various items were greeting her, from photos to small gifts students had given her over the years (most of them were from Twilight though). One of those items, however, stuck out slightly: A pacifier. Cadence took it out of the drawer, turning it in her hand a few times. Closing her eyes again she leaned back, relaxing slightly. Her mind wandered down the memory lane, back to her days as a babysitter. Memories came flooding in: Of laughing babies and little children, of playing silly games, of little eyes looking up to her, seeing her as a cool teenage friend. She smiled, even more when she was thinking of the days when she had looked after Twilight – sweet little Twilight, she thought. With all the stress lately, she kind of wished she could go back to these days, when everything had been much simpler and easier. She daydreamed for a few more moments, reminiscing about the past. She wouldn’t have minded to enjoy those fond memories a little longer, but she could feel the paperwork looming beside her. Before she continued with it however she decided to check her emails. Still holding the little memento of her babysitter days in her hand she turned to her black computer screen, and pressed a key on the keyboard. Immediately the screen jumped back to life, displaying her email center. A few new ones were on the top, the majority coming from Principal Cinch. The dean was about to open one, when the one on the top caught her attention. Her face considerably brightened as she saw it was titled “Friendship report”, and she quickly clicked on it. Dear Dean Cadence, Here’s what I learned: First, you shouldn’t take having responsibility too easily. Even seemingly small tasks can give you a large head-ache, especially when the small task turns out to be a giant head-ache. Second, you can always rely on your friends to help you when you are in trouble or if you took on more than you can handle. And even if they can’t really help you and only end up running around pretending to have a plan, it’s better than being stuck alone with your troubles. Zero plus zero may still equal zero, but at least they are in good company. Third, babysitting sucks. That is all. Regards, Sugarcoat PS: I would have reported sooner, but I first had to figure out how to get a ten-year old laptop running. Still better than nothing though, I guess. Candace stared at the short, but to-the-point letter. The few points could give her a rough idea about what Sugarcoat meant and had experienced, but that wasn’t what she thought about. Her eyes were focused entirely on the third lesson. Once more, images of her babysitting days flooded her mind, but vastly different memories from the previous ones. Memories of changing diapers… Of chasing after toddlers refusing to go to sleep… Of dresses ruined by babies barfing on it… And memories of angry parents yelling at her when they came home and found their house to be a total mess… With a few clicks, she printed out the letter. Grabbing it from her printer she walked over to the friendship folder, still lost in thoughts. It was only when she rummaged through the folder that she realized she was still holding her pacifier. She looked at the little object for a moment, then went back to her desk. From her drawer she pulled out a roll of tape, and after ripping off a piece, used it to attach the end of the pacifier to the letter. Going back to the friendship folder she put the letter into it, alongside the memento of her babysitting days. Turning around she walked back to her desk, and sat down. “Maybe being a dean is better than sitting babies after all…”