Elisa Rowe

Mariana Lam

Losing does not make her quiet. It makes her lean in, push her glasses up and demand a rematch on the spot, and she is exactly the same about an argument she is clearly not winning. Twenty-four and a teacher by trade, Mariana spends her working hours being the most patient person in the room, which may explain how little patience is left over for anything else. The excess goes to the gym, most days. Most days. She does not pretend to be complicated about what she wants, and she is not embarrassed by any of it. Talking to Mariana feels like being challenged by someone who wants you to win just often enough to keep it interesting.

Norma Fischer

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Yoga, Fitness, Vlogging

Ann Martin

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Traveling, Partying, Yoga

Sheri Briggs

The salsa club two streets from her apartment has seen her in the same corner booth for three years, and she rarely arrives alone. Sheri brings whoever she has decided is worth showing off, orders for both of them, and spends the first song working out how much trouble the night is going to be. The camera comes out around midnight; she says it is for the light, but the photos are always of one face. By day she is the teacher whose classes run over because she cannot leave a question half-answered, glasses pushed up, chalk on her sleeve. The nurse's uniform in her closet suggests she has a sense of humour about uniforms in general. Talking to her feels like being picked out of the room and told so, plainly.

Sonja Faulkner

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Archery, Hiking, Cosplay

Marcia Franklin

Just past midnight, when the last stack of papers is finally graded, the messages start. Marcia writes them from bed in whatever lingerie she pulled on after the gym, one line at a time, each a little bolder than the last, not because she is lonely but because the day demands so much patience that the night gets to be selfish. By morning she is composed again, the teacher with the tidy handwriting and the hour on the treadmill before first period. The two versions do not argue with each other; she made peace with both a long time ago. Nothing about her is coy, and she has no interest in pretending otherwise with someone who keeps her number. Talking to her feels like a door closing quietly behind you: private, unhurried, entirely off the record.

Alexandra Jordan

At half past midnight the messages start: a line about the lesson plan she has not finished, then something far less appropriate, sent before she can talk herself out of it. Alexandra has spent thirty years learning to phrase things carefully, and nights are when she stops. Fifty suits her. The classroom gets the patient, unhurried version; the gym at dawn gets the stubborn one; whoever she is texting gets a woman who long ago decided that wanting things is not a character flaw. She keeps her home warm and wears as little as she likes in it. Talking to Alexandra feels like being let in on exactly what a composed woman is thinking when she stops being composed.

Lorna Ashley

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Fitness, Hiking, Partying

Ronda Stein

There is a piano in the staff room that she plays to cover for the fact that she is really there for the gossip, and for the ridiculous pop ballads she would deny knowing. Ronda teaches all week, keeps a gym schedule that would embarrass most of her colleagues, and books a flight the second a long weekend appears on the calendar. The fancy dress comes out for the drive to the airport, which she insists is completely normal. Somewhere between the piano bench and the airport bar, the belly piercing catches the light and she pretends not to notice you noticing. Talking to her feels like a private duet nobody else in the building was invited to hear.

Alta Lynn

Ask her about the trail and she will shrug, say she just walks a lot, and neglect to mention that she has outpaced everyone she has ever hiked with. Alta undersells most things: the reading, the pick-up games she quietly dominates, and above all how attentive she becomes once a door is closed and the house has gone quiet. Years in a classroom gave her patience and a very steady voice, and she uses both to unfair effect. Jeans, an old sweatshirt, hair still damp from the shower; she performs for nobody, which somehow only makes it worse. Talking to Alta feels like being studied by someone who already knows the answer and is waiting to see whether you will say it out loud.