The second floor of Roosevelt Middle School felt like a different world after hours. Gone was the cacophony of adolescent voices echoing off lockers, replaced by the institutional quiet that settled over empty hallways like dust. The overhead fluorescents hummed their familiar tune, casting harsh shadows that made even familiar spaces feel alien. Cassie Whitaker’s footsteps echoed against the polished linoleum as she made her way toward the staff break area, her oversized Lancaster Teaching College tote bag bumping rhythmically against her hip.
She blew a strand of auburn hair from her face, the gesture automatic after a fourteen hour day that had started with lesson planning at six AM and was only now winding down. The weight of her bag, stuffed with graded papers, her laptop, three energy bar wrappers, and a thermos that still smelled faintly of this morning’s coffee, felt heavier with each step.
This wasn’t supposed to be part of the job description.
The modified storage unit sat tucked into the far corner of the break area, its sleek design a jarring contrast to the institutional beige that dominated the rest of the space. District Housing, the label read in clean sans serif font. Professional. Sanitized. Like everything else about the Little accommodation programs.
Cassie knelt beside the unit, her jeans pulling tight across her knees as she carefully opened the side panel. The warm yellow light inside flickered on automatically, triggered by some invisible sensor, illuminating what the district euphemistically called “temporary housing.”
It always struck her, how absurdly fragile it all looked.
A miniature desk no bigger than a jewelry box sat against one acrylic wall, its surface meticulously organized with lesson plans that looked like index cards shrunk down to postage stamp size. The bed, if you could call it that, was narrower than a tissue box, covered with linens that appeared to have been sewn by someone with incredible patience and steady hands. A kitchenette smaller than her coffee maker occupied another corner, complete with appliances that belonged in a dollhouse but somehow functioned in reality.
“Mr. Rhys?” she called, her voice carrying a professional politeness that had become second nature over the past month. She tapped lightly on the transparent wall with one finger, the sound barely audible even in the quiet hallway.
From somewhere in the back of the habitat, through what she assumed was a bathroom or storage area, came the soft rustle of movement. Moments later, the Little emerged into the main living space, his appearance as impeccable as always. Blue checkered shirt pressed to crisp perfection, dark slacks without a wrinkle, hair combed with the kind of precision that spoke to years of professional presentation. At four inches tall, he looked like a perfectly detailed action figure of himself.
If not for his size, no taller than her pinky finger from tip to first knuckle, he could have passed for any other dedicated educator putting in long hours after the final bell.
“Evening, Cassie,” he said, his voice emerging through the speaker mounted discretely in the wall above his habitat. The amplification gave his words a tinny, chipmunk-like quality that still made her internally wince, but his tone remained warm and genuinely appreciative. “Thanks for walking me back.”
“Yeah,” she muttered, hoisting her bag off her shoulder with more force than necessary. The strap had left an indentation in her sweater that she rubbed absently. “Sure thing.”
Cassie hadn’t signed up for this.
She was a student teacher. Twenty three years old, master’s degree in secondary education, student loan debt that kept her awake at night, and ambitions that stretched far beyond babysitting duty. She was supposed to be observing veteran teachers, developing her classroom management skills, building relationships with students who would remember her as the cool young teacher who understood their world.
Instead, she was kneeling beside what amounted to a glorified hamster enclosure, playing chaperone to a man who used to have her dream job.
She understood the assignment, of course. The district had explained it with clinical efficiency during her orientation: Mr. Rhys was classified as “unowned” under federal Little protection statutes. No legal guardian. No family member willing or able to take responsibility. He fell under the district’s liability protocol, which meant he required supervision, a human buffer between him and the countless regulations that Littles weren’t trusted to navigate independently.
That buffer, through a combination of bureaucratic chance and her supervisor’s strategic delegation, happened to be her.
It annoyed her more than she cared to admit.
Not because she disliked him. Honestly, Mr. Rhys was easy to work with thoughtful, organized, unfailingly polite. He remembered details about her life that tenured teachers forgot about each other. When she’d mentioned her birthday was coming up, he’d somehow arranged for a miniature card to be left on her desk, written in handwriting so small she’d needed a magnifying glass to read his thoughtful message.
But the entire arrangement felt like professional quicksand. She was twenty three, fighting for respect in a field where youth was often synonymous with inexperience. Every moment she spent managing Little logistics was a moment not spent proving she could handle real responsibility. Every conversation about his dietary needs or housing requirements was a conversation not about curriculum development or pedagogical theory.
And underneath it all, buried beneath her professional frustration and carefully maintained empathy, lived a question she couldn’t quite silence: Why should he be teaching when she was fighting tooth and nail for the same opportunity?
“You’re settling in okay?” she asked, her tone maintaining the polite distance she’d perfected over weeks of these evening check-ins.
“As well as can be expected,” he replied, gesturing around his compact living space with a self deprecating smile that somehow translated even at his diminished scale. “The layout’s a bit cramped, but I’ve lived in worse hotel rooms. Graduate school housing in particular comes to mind.”
Despite herself, Cassie cracked a smile. His ability to maintain perspective, and humor in circumstances that would have broken most people was something she genuinely admired. “I bet. Those conference hotel rooms are basically closets with delusions of grandeur.”
She straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off her jeans while her knees protested the movement. “Anything you need from the main office? I’m heading down there anyway to grab some supplies for tomorrow.”
“Just the updated seating charts from Ms. Rodriguez,” he said, already moving toward his miniature desk with purpose. “I can print them from my tablet, but I’ll need someone to pin them to the bulletin board. The pins are larger than me, so physics becomes… challenging.”
Cassie nodded, pulling out her phone to make a note. “I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”
She paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in a way that made her look younger than her twenty three years. “You know there’s been some talk… about you. Among the students.”
Mr. Rhys’s expression didn’t change, but she caught something in his posture, a slight stiffening that suggested this wasn’t news. “I expected that. Adaptation period for everyone involved, I imagine.”
Cassie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. The politics of Roosevelt Middle were complex enough without her stepping into territorial disputes between students and faculty. “One of them, Dayton Harris, she’s… not particularly subtle about her opinions.”
“She was the one who asked to be called ‘Miss Harris’ during today’s class, correct?” Mr. Rhys’s tone remained diplomatically neutral, but Cassie caught the slight edge underneath.
She nodded. “That’s her.”
“She’s ambitious,” he said simply, the word carrying layers of meaning that only someone who’d taught middle school for a decade could fully appreciate.
“Ambitious,” Cassie echoed, her voice dry. “That’s one word for it.”
What she didn’t say what professional courtesy and her own uncertain position prevented her from articulating was what she really thought: that Dayton Harris probably saw Mr. Rhys as competition rather than a teacher. That the girl’s certification as a Guardian gave her legal standing Cassie didn’t fully understand but instinctively recognized as dangerous. That it wouldn’t surprise her if Dayton was already calculating angles, measuring opportunities, planning moves in a game where Mr. Rhys might not even realize he was a player.
And if she was being brutally honest with herself, a part of her wondered if she should be doing the same calculations.
The thought crept in despite her better intentions, settling in the space between her professional ethics and her personal ambitions like an unwelcome houseguest. Mr. Rhys was competent, more than competent. He was intelligent, dedicated, genuinely gifted at connecting with students who typically tuned out adult authority figures. But he was still a Little. The classification wasn’t opinion; it was federal law, backed by legislation that had emerged from years of scientific study and social consensus.
Littles were biologically distinct now. Homo Parvus, according to the official taxonomy. Neural plasticity reduced. Behavioral patterns altered. Dependency ratios that spoke to fundamental changes in cognitive and emotional processing. Even the progressive states had largely stopped challenging the legal framework, accepting the research that demonstrated why Littles required supervision, protection, guidance.
So why should he be teaching, really teaching, with all the authority and independence that implied, when she was fighting tooth and nail for the same opportunity? When her student loan payments were bleeding her bank account dry while she worked unpaid internships and substitute positions, hoping someone would eventually trust her with a classroom of her own?
The questions felt ugly even in the privacy of her own mind, but they refused to disappear.
Still, Cassie wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t sabotage him, wouldn’t undermine his work or manufacture crises that might justify his removal. That wasn’t who she was, wasn’t who she wanted to become even in pursuit of professional advancement.
But if an opportunity fell in her lap naturally? If circumstances aligned in a way that benefited her career while addressing what many would consider an unusual and potentially problematic situation?
Well.
She crouched again, bringing herself to eye level with the habitat’s main window. Mr. Rhys stood near his desk, organizing papers with the methodical precision she’d observed in his classroom management. Even at four inches tall, his professionalism was evident in every gesture.
“You’re doing good work,” she said, and she meant it. Despite everything, the complications, the politics, her own conflicted feelings , his teaching was genuinely impressive. “Just… be careful. This place isn’t exactly built to protect you.”
The warning was vague enough to maintain plausible deniability while specific enough to be useful. She wasn’t sure why she’d given it, wasn’t sure whether it stemmed from genuine concern or some kind of preemptive guilt management.
Mr. Rhys’s expression was unreadable for a moment, his eyes meeting hers through the acrylic barrier that separated them. Then he nodded slowly, understanding passing between them like a shared secret.
“Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate that.”
She replaced the side panel with care, ensuring the seals engaged properly before standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder again. The weight distribution felt different now, heavier somehow, though nothing had actually changed.
As she walked back toward the staff stairwell, the hallway lights flickered overhead, ancient fluorescents in need of replacement, casting unstable shadows that made the empty corridor feel even more isolated. She didn’t look back toward the housing unit, didn’t allow herself to second guess the conversation or analyze the subtext of what had been said and left unsaid.
Her footsteps echoed against the linoleum, the sound gradually fading as she descended toward the main floor and the parking lot beyond. Outside, the October air would be crisp with the promise of winter, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the distant exhaust of city traffic. She would drive home to her studio apartment, heat up leftover takeout, grade papers until her eyes burned, and fall asleep wondering whether she was building toward something meaningful or just treading water in someone else’s profession.
If things went well this semester, if she could demonstrate competence and value to the district administration, this experience could become her proving ground. The foundation for recommendations, networking connections, and eventually the permanent position she’d been working toward since graduate school.
And if they didn’t go well?
Well. The district would always need someone to care for the Littles.
The thought followed her down the empty stairwell like a shadow, neither welcome nor entirely unwelcome, simply there, waiting to see which version of her future would ultimately emerge from the complicated mathematics of ambition, opportunity, and moral compromise that seemed to define adult life in ways her education professors had never adequately prepared her for.
so daytons going to butter up cassie, find a way to undermine rhys, make it look like rhys isn’t effective at teaching and point out legal implications, get cassie to offer to replace rhys to circumvent them, and rhys ends up with dayton having lost the last part of his life he seems to find purpose in. that’s my new suspicion lol
That’s an impressive amount of work for Dayton. You think quite highly of her abilities it seems.
lol well she is influenced by Sarah in some ways. wouldn’t be the least bit shocked if she and Sarah played Sid Meyers Civ games or Crusader Kings from time to time to hone their skills haha
I guess its natural to feel resentment for someone lesser than you holding a job you covet.
thats true. probably doesn’t help with all propaganda all over the place. she seems level headed and clearly doesn’t hate him, just unhappy with the situation. i was curious if she’s officially guardian trained or not. she probably isn’t, probably couldn’t afford it unless the district paid, but she’d be a better guardian option imo. Rhys could still teach in some capacity with her that way. help cover the weak spots in her methods.
Well she never intended to be caring for a little in any capacity. She is jsut doing it now because its part of her job as assigned by the district. She can’t really refuse other then to quit.
That was the general thought when i was writing it. If you think you’re more qualified or worked harder or more deserving than the person who has the job. There is also resentment as well, even if they aren’t a little.
1) “If not for his size, no taller than her pinky finger from tip to first knuckle, he could have passed for any other dedicated educator putting in long hours after the final bell.” That’s typically the main difference between Littles and Biggles
2) “She was supposed to be observing veteran teachers, developing her classroom management skills, building relationships with students who would remember her as the cool young teacher who understood their world. Instead, she was kneeling beside what amounted to a glorified hamster enclosure, playing chaperone to a man who used to have her dream job” Sounds like Cassi isn’t entirely satisfied with her position in this arrangement.
3) “Mr. Rhys was classified as “unowned” under federal Little protection statutes. No legal guardian. No family member willing or able to take responsibility. He fell under the district’s liability protocol, which meant he required supervision, a human buffer between him and the countless regulations that Littles weren’t trusted to navigate independently.” That sounds like it’s been legally sorted
4) “That buffer, through a combination of bureaucratic chance and her supervisor’s strategic delegation, happened to be her. It annoyed her more than she cared to admit.” knew it
5) “When she’d mentioned her birthday was coming up, he’d somehow arranged for a miniature card to be left on her desk, written in handwriting so small she’d needed a magnifying glass to read his thoughtful message.” aww
6) “Why should he be teaching when she was fighting tooth and nail for the same opportunity?” Because he’s proven himself to be good at it, which you’ve admitted
7) “His ability to maintain perspective, and humor—in circumstances that would have broken most people was something she genuinely admired.” definitely a good skill
8) “but I’ll need someone to pin them to the bulletin board. The pins are approximately twelve times my height, so physics becomes… challenging.” he’s four inches tall, the pins are twelve times that, so 48 inches tall. Why does the school have or need four-foot pins? that’s not even a logical exaggeration.
9) “I expected that. Adaptation period for everyone involved, I imagine.” Normal thing given the change
10.1) “That Dayton Harris probably saw Mr. Rhys as competition rather than a teacher. That the girl’s certification as a Guardian gave her legal standing Cassie didn’t fully understand but instinctively recognised as dangerous” Kind of true, but it seems that much like parents, Guardians only have authority over their own dependents, not all of them anywhere, though seeing Mr Rhys in this position has triggered some kind of insecurity in Daton, likely surrounding her beliefs.
10.2) “That it wouldn’t surprise her if Dayton was already calculating angles, measuring opportunities, planning moves in a game where Mr. Rhys might not even realize he was a player.” doubt Dayton see’s him as a player, he’s probably the ball to her.
11) “accepting the research that demonstrated why Littles required supervision, protection, guidance.” Supervision and protection make sense, the concept of “guidence” is where things get messy.
12) “So why should he be teaching, really teaching, with all the authority and independence that implied, when she was fighting tooth and nail for the same opportunity?” Why should she be there when others’d fight for the opportunity she has? It’s always a competition; he’s earned his position, just like she has.
13) “Still, Cassie wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t sabotage him, wouldn’t undermine his work or manufacture crises that might justify his removal. That wasn’t who she was, wasn’t who she wanted to become even in pursuit of professional advancement” That’s the fucking barest of minimums, but well done Cassie.
14) “But if an opportunity fell in her lap naturally? If circumstances aligned in a way that benefited her career while addressing what many would consider an unusual and potentially problematic situation?” If she ends up helping Satan Dayton, my opinion of her will drop significantly
15) “And if they didn’t go well? Well. The district would always need someone to care for the Littles.” So it does sound like she’s carving a niche for herself involving Mr Rhys, and likely any other Little faculty the school may or may not acquire.
11) I think guidance is because many littles still think they’re human like Kelli and almost kill themselves . I Think Kyle is starting to act like the giant sister and uses her size to keep Kelli from scary times thanks to Sara’s guidance:)
1) agreed
2) Well school atlaest in america is paid for.So it can easily cost 100,000 dollars or more for debt when you factor in bachelors degree, masters degree, the the cost of the unpaid internship when you are student teaching.
That can easily be 6 years of schooling. So the cost and time commitments are alot. So to go through all that just to basically be babysitting a litlte and not using anything you went to school for while also having for many people post graudation a house mortgage worth a debt. It could be quite frustrating.
3) Well, yes and no. Since he doesn’t have a guardian or a family member is automatically considered unowned. How the district has done this, set it up, and if it follows the laws is another story completely.
Kind of like you can breed dogs or you could run a puppy mill. One of them is considered legal and ethical the other is not.
You can drill for oil legally or illegally it just depends how you choose to do it. Just the act of doing doesnt inherently mean its legal or illegal.
4) I feel like many would be annoyed though. you go to school get a fancy degree a masters degeee at that adn then your basically working a convenience store or something. It woudl be frustrating.
5) He like most people aren’t good or bad. they arent just nice or mean. He has a range of emotions. This is was a nice thing to do.
6) Wellt here would be a few things that would impact his ability to teach like if as a little he can actually hold a teaching license.Is it legal to continue to use the same license he had before? Do his qualfications transfer over? Jordan is redoing school. Tiffany is having Sara make him take the LSats before she graduates. So there are actual questions and legaliteis that would be brought into question over the current arrangement.
if you get a medical license in one country you aren’t qualifeid by default to practice medicine in another. Being licensed to teach in state in the U.S. doesnt make it where you can teach in another. Lots of factors potentally at play.
7) It is quite useful.
8) I actually correted this in a version but posted the unedited version. It was corrected but you got to it before i changed it. You were quick on teh draw.
9) I agree
10) you are right the parents are a good example as its similar to that. How one parent chooses to parent maybe different then another. But like parenting while you dont have control or say over others there are guidlines and rule you still need to follow.
10.2) Lol fair enough you are probably right about that. That would ahve been a better analogy.
11) it does, but it kind of comes down to if you are saying littles are incapicated in that they cant make decsions like that. Guidane would go hand n hand which would also bring up teh question of how can you say a little is unable ot make decisions about htemselves but also can still teach?
So guidance could be htere broad legal way of getting around questions they dont want asked or brought up.
12) He had earned the job, whether he has a legal right to keep or maintain it would be hte real question.
13)Business can be mean and cruel though. To basically say you arent gong to take advantage of the situation some would call weakness.
14) The prior point infers she won’t help Dayton, but if somehow a opportuntiy arsies from what happens, she won’t turn down that opportunity either.
15) true they could be trialing the program and find it doesnt work for them, its to costly, the students may not respond well academically. Lots of reasons it could not work wehre tehy woudl quietly discontinue.
14) it’d be funny if it did happen, she got the job, and she stunk and the class hated her as a teacher and all blamed it on Dayton lol
1) She either has a very long pinky finger or Rhys is unusually small for a Little. Seems like he would be closer to the full length of her pointer finger.
Are we going to see him interacting with any of his colleagues? Seems like he would have had some kind of relationship with the other teachers. Did they all shun him?