Chapter Text
“Uh, hello,” Grace says awkwardly as he adjusts the large box in his arms. He tries not to interrupt the lady who’s currently concentrating very hard as she puts on an alarmingly bright red lipstick behind her desk. “Sorry to bother you while you’re, er, doing that. I’m Grace? Ryland Grace?”
“Hold on, I’ve almost got it,” the lady says. Her name tag says Phoebe on it, and he thinks that the cute name doesn’t really suit the way the lady snaps her compact mirror with a loud noise and then proceeds to use her blank monitor to adjust her honey blonde hair. “Tch. I knew I should have sprung for the full blow out. Why do I have to pay fifty dollars for a trim? It’s ridiculous.”
“Right,” Grace says, struggling to know what to do here. “Totally. If you could just tell me where my classroom is, that’d be great, Ms… Phoebe?”
“Oh, sweetheart, just Phoebe is fine.” Phoebe finally looks up, and there’s a light smirk on her cherry red lips as she eyes Grace up and down. “Hm, fresh meat, right?”
“I’m sorry?” Grace gapes.
“You’re the temp they sent over because Georgie’s about to pop with her kid. Kids, multiple,” Phoebe corrects herself as she begins to type something on her keyboard. “Biology, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Grace says, feeling totally lost. “Who’s - sorry, who’s Georgie?”
“Looks like you’re going to be right in hall 2000, darling,” Phoebe says, completely ignoring Grace’s question as she takes out a bright, pink sticky pad and starts to write something down with an equally bright glitter pen. Grace’s eyes hurt just looking at it. “It’s the science wing, you can’t miss it. Aw, and you have the best seat in the whole house. I know Georgie was sad about having to leave for so long.”
She hands him the sticky note, which says R2010 on it. There’s also a series of numbers underneath it and something that resembles a password.
“The first bit is your room number,” Phoebe says. “Then the combination for your own private mailbox in the lounge. Under that is your temporary password, but I chose it, so I suggest you change it once you’re settled in.”
“Thank you,” Grace says, tucking the note into the pocket of his sweater. “What do you mean by the best seat?”
Phoebe smiles. It’s quite beautiful, but also a bit scary, and he clutches the box closer to his chest as she purrs, “oh, you’re curious? Well, our school has a hidden gem, Gracie.”
“It’s actually just Gra - “
“Oh, damn, he’s here,” Phoebe hisses, completely cutting off whatever Grace is about to say. He stares, completely mystified by this beautiful woman who kind of acts like the world is a movie. She scrambles to kick on her shoes, some horrible stiletto things that Grace would immediately trip in, and she says, “do I have anything in my teeth? My eyes? My face?”
Grace quickly shakes his head no for every question. “It’s fine, I swear. Why’re you so worried? Who’s here?”
“Phoebe, you bitch. Did you take my fucking parking spot again?”
Grace turns around and his world tilts on its axis.
There’s a man walking in through the front door with a coffee in one hand and a backpack in the other. He looks annoyed rather than straight up mad like his tone suggests, but it’s just enough that his dark eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is set in a straight line. His skin is darker than Grace’s, but actually, all of him is darker than Grace.
All the way from his sharp eyes to his black hair streaked with grey, to his shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top and his shining shoes, he’s darker and taller and bigger in every way possible and Grace is confused.
He’s confused about why he’s staring so hard. Why he keeps glancing over the line of the man’s shoulders, why he’s so utterly fascinated with the way the man rolls his neck while muttering further obscenities under his breath, why when the man gets closer, glances at him, and says, “oh, hello,” Grace blushes.
He’s mortified.
Actually, he kind of wants the ground to open him up and swallow him whole, because he’s never felt like this before, and he doesn’t know what it is but he should probably schedule an appointment, right?
Okay, make a list of things that’s wrong.
His heartbeat is through the roof.
His stomach feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself.
His skin is so hot it might melt off.
His hands are - shaking. Oh, god, they’re really shaky, and sweaty, and Grace wants to die because what the heck -
“Lot of balls to come in here and accuse me of something so heinous, Dr. Erid,” Phoebe says, just barely able to pull Grace out of his spiral as she smirks up at the man from her desk. She has her chin placed in her palm and seems far more interested with observing her nails than appeasing him. “Don’t you have better things to do than yelling at poor, innocent maidens?”
“Oh, right, tell me when you find one of those, then,” the man says drily, and he takes a sip of his coffee. It smells so good, or maybe that’s him? He’s not standing particularly close to Grace, but just enough that the dredges of coffee mixed with something earthy and warm coax his body into a shudder. Holy crap. “Did you print out the stuff I asked?”
“You mean the crap fax you sent me at two in the morning?” Phoebe snorts. She reaches down and takes out a pile of paper, puts it onto the counter, and stops the man from grabbing at it with a single, manicured finger pointed between his eyes. “Hold on there, sexy.”
“Christ, Phoebe, do you want us to get slapped with a sexual harassment seminar again?” The man hisses as he tries to yank the papers out from her. She doesn’t let him, but he continues to pull anyway. “Wasn’t the last one humiliating enough?”
“Oh, boo-hoo, sorry that I can’t speak.” Phoebe scoffs. “Isn’t this America?”
“You weren’t even born here,” the man snaps. “What do you want, woman? Tell me so I can get my tests. Those gremlins I have to call my students deserve one after the shit they pulled last week.”
“You mean when they staged a coup and almost set your lab on fire?”
“... Screw you.”
“Fine.” Phoebe tosses a glossy curl over her shoulder and her voice transitions into that sultry, purring tone from before as her eyes suddenly slide over to Grace. “Dr. Grace?”
“Wha - I… Yes?” Grace says, snapping his head up from where he had been staring blankly at the ground. C-Crap. He’s been going through a list of possible diseases and life-threatening conditions he might have that could explain his previous symptoms. “Sorry. I was lost in my own head.”
“Oh, we all get like that, don’t worry,” the man says with an easy grin. His disposition is far warmer to Grace than it is to Phoebe, who rolls her eyes as Grace struggles not to choke on a squeak. “Sorry, I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a teacher’s aid?”
“A teacher, actually,” Grace says with only minimal embarrassment. He fumbles to yank out his badge, only to try and not die on the spot as he realizes that the picture is the one where he accidentally sneezed right before the shot and therefore looks high with his half-lidded eyes. What the fish. “For - Georgie? I think?”
“I didn’t know she was going on maternity already,” the man says with a concerned voice to Phoebe.
“Twins come early, stupid,” Phoebe says.
“I’m reporting you,” the man declares with a finality that makes Grace jump. “I’m going to report you, and then you’re going to have to go home all sad and jobless and I’ll laugh while I’m rolling in my piles of money - “
“You’re right, you and your teacher’s salary are so much wealthier than I am,” Phoebe says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The man leans down slightly so his head is dipped closer to Grace’s. It’s enough to make him dizzy, because the scent of coffee mixed with what he deems as petrichor is so good that it kind of makes him weak in the knees.
“Rule of thumb, rookie,” the man mutters to him. His voice should be illegal. Oh, god. “Make sure to avoid the gargoyle at front named Phoebe whenever you can.”
“I heard that,” Phoebe snaps. “And stop telling him things that aren’t true. Grace, sweetheart, this is Dr. Rocky Erid. He’s one of the physics teachers here and he’s going to take you to your classroom.”
“He is?”
“I am?”
Both Grace and the man say at the same time, though admittedly Grace sounds a lot more nervous than the man - Dr. Rocky Erid - does.
“Of course you are, did you think I kept you up here because I like talking with you?” Phoebe says airily, finally releasing the last of the paper to Rocky as she leans back and starts to file away at her claw-like nails. “Poor boy’s going to get lost in this zoo, Rocky. Look at him.”
Rocky does.
Grace tries not to gulp as the intense gaze of Dr. Rocky Erid glances over him in sweeps. For all of Rocky’s animated gestures and words so far, he’s surprisingly conservative when it comes to his facial expressions now, and by the time he’s done looking, he sounds far more casual than Grace feels as he says, “well, alright. I guess that’s my job as your senior, right, rookie?”
“Right,” Grace says with a gulp. “Of course, Dr. Erid.”
“Just Rocky is fine.” There’s a gleam of white as Rocky flashes him a smile. It’s crooked and leans more into being a smirk than an actual grin, and Grace - Grace is going to pass out, actually. He’s going to die. Oh no. “Is it cool if I call you Ryland?”
Even Grace’s brother doesn’t call him that.
“Okay,” Grace says.
“Awesome.” Rocky gathers his tests and his coffee while flipping Phoebe the bird. “Come on, let me show you where to go. You must be excited to work. You look pretty young, so getting a job right away is impressive.”
“Oh,” Grace says, scrambling to catch up after saying a hasty goodbye to Phoebe, who only giggles in response. “Yes, I’m - I’m very grateful for the opportunity. Your principal is, er…”
“Strong-willed? Stubborn? A bitch?” Rocky says with amusement.
“... I was going to say persuasive, but yes,” Grace admits, ducking his head and trying to ignore the way his ears go hot at Rocky’s bark of laughter. “And I’m not that young, actually. I’m twenty-six. It took me a while to graduate because I was getting my doctorate.”
“Stratt’s an interesting woman. Sorry she had to be your first experience in regards to this school. I promise the rest of us aren’t like that,” Rocky says. Grace thinks about Phoebe and decides not to comment. “And a doctorate, wow. Very impressive. What did you study?”
“Molecular biology,” Grace says, following Rocky down a hallway and occasionally glancing around him to see if anyone else is there. It doesn’t seem like there is, though that makes sense, since Grace purposefully showed up extra early to finish setting up. “But I did some general biology, too.”
“I got mine in physics and math,” Rocky says flippantly, as if having two doctorates is anything to sneeze at. “All that squishy life stuff… eugh. It kind of grosses me out. It’s why I find it impressive whenever I meet someone who’s studied it. Woah!”
Grace yelps when he stumbles and nearly faceplants onto the ground. Strong hands reach out and grab his elbows, steadying him just on time, and he feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest when he looks up and realizes that Rocky is staring down at him in concern.
“You okay?” Rocky says.
“Yup.” Grace squeaks.
“Here, let me get that,” Rocky says, and he takes Grace’s box easily. It leaves enough hands for Grace to grab his bag, and he clutches at the strap as Rocky grins at him again. Woah. Are his canines a bit sharper than normal? Grace isn’t sure if he wants to faint or puke or both. “Do you know what room you’re supposed to be in?”
“Oh!” Grace jolts out of his daze, where his eyes had been starting to wander up Rocky’s hands and to his biceps. “Yes, sorry. Phoebe said 2010?”
“Really?” Rocky pauses. “That’s right across from my room.”
Grace swallows.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Grace manages to say.
Rocky looks at him again.
This time, there’s something a bit different in his gaze. Grace can’t say for sure what it is; but it has Rocky’s eyes lingering on his face, and Grace resists the urge to fidget with his glasses.
“No,” Rocky says. He laughs and Grace feels like turning into a puddle.
“I really like that.”