Rafe and Heather
Rafe smiled a little as she spoke of nostalgia. He could think of a few places that would remind him of old times, but a majority of them were stripped down by time and industry. His hometown in Wales had some historical parts, but much of it was either new or restored to look like the old bits but with new materials. Rafe was one of the few teachers here who was not once a student, so it always interested him to hear of former students talk about it. He remembered Heather as a student being quiet, focused, and fitting into nearly every description of her house. She was what some might call a late bloomer, but often those were the ones who bloomed the most beautifully.
He was admiring her when she brought attention to his own clothing. "Guilty as charged," he chuckled, "It's not every day I get to pull out an old suit that is so completely outdated. I'm grateful they chose this for the theme and not the seventies." He hadn't bought completely into the fashions of the disco era but he had the wide collard shirts, the thick ties, and even a couple of bell bottoms somewhere.
"Where did you find that one? You look like you walked out of the Delineator," he said, referencing an old fashion magazine. He knew of it primarily because a wife at the time read it rather faithfully. He didn't care much if he dated himself with that sort of knowledge, because Heather already knew. He probably told her a number of stories repeatedly and then those he remembered because she would ask him questions leading to that.
"There's a pool going," he said, "Since Micah isn't here, a number of staff not playing guard duty to the punch is wondering how long it'll be before someone is successful."