Chapter Text
I glanced up at the stars, some only pinpricks in the fabric of the night sky, and I wondered if there was anyone out there. Aliens, astronauts, solo street animals… I bit my lip to stop all thoughts of Laika and Félicette in their tracks and strode to my car. I unlocked the door and threw my work bag onto the passenger seat. My bag, an old leather tote full of ungraded vocab tests, my lesson plan notebook, and ancient uneaten granola bars, was a gift from my parents when I got my first teaching job. The spelling bee had been tonight, and of course, as the eighth grade English teacher at Grover Cleveland Middle School, I was expected to attend. Our librarian, Mrs. Brooks, was kind enough to volunteer to actually run it, so I just sat back and watched my kids recite the words they've been studying with varying levels of confidence. I was proud of them either way. But now, I was just tired.
I had stayed at school all day. It wasn't worth going home. I had essays to read and grade, anyway. I gazed up at the constellations once more before jamming my key into the ignition and backing out of the parking lot. My stomach growled rather loudly as I coasted up and down the hills of beautiful San Francisco. Clover was probably hungry, too. She was likely grooming her brown tabby fur at that exact moment, trying to pass the time until I finally walked through the doors of the over-priced box that I called home sweet home. I pulled up to my apartment building as fast as traffic would allow and heaved my oversized bag up to the third floor of the charming 1920s structure. The elevator was out of order. Of course. My sore feet inside my "sensible" kitten heels carried me up to the door with the golden number five on it. The jingling keys alerted Clover instantly. I could hear her meows through the oak grain. Her little head was butting into my ankles before the door was even locked behind me. "I know, Clove," I sighed.
All my daily luggage was briskly tossed into the chair beside the door before I bent down to pet my feline friend. She arched into my touch, practically purring loud enough to vibrate my books off their shelves. I straightened back up, kicking off my shoes and trailing to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the both of us. It was already nine o'clock PM. I would've liked to have eaten about two hours ago, but it was poor planning on my part. I knew the spelling bee was going to monopolize my entire evening. So I made Clover's dinner a proper treat as an apology. The fancy wet food, with some other add-ons I knew she loved. I set her bowl down and smiled as I heard her little chomping noises. Now to find something for myself. If only it was as simple as cracking open a single can.
I scavenged together some dubious ingredients for some sort of wrap. It was mostly half-wilted lettuce, but there was chicken in there somewhere. I cut the wrap in half, added some jalapeno chips to make the whole thing a little more visually appealing, and carried the plate over to the couch. I considered watching something while I ate, Gilmore Girls perhaps, but I had been so overstimulated by the sweet voices of my students being amplified through a microphone all evening that I actually craved the silence. The first bite of my sad little wrap almost met my mouth when my phone dinged from my pocket, genuinely startling me. I could have almost cried, who the hell was trying to contact me at the exact moment I was about to take my first bite of food in 8 hours?
I pulled the device from the pocket of my slacks and tapped the screen to illuminate my curiosity. It was… Dr. Grace. What did he want? We rarely spoke.
RG
Hey, Miss Haddock, you didn't happen to see my ID badge anywhere in the hall, did you?
LH
No, I'm sorry, I didn't. You can call me Lydia, by the way. You don't have to be sooo professional all the time.
RG
Shoot. I think it slipped out of my pocket when I was leaving for the day. The damn lanyard probably got snagged on the door handle. And hey, I know, I know! I just prefer to be respectful.
LH
It happens to the best of us. I don't think you have a disrespectful bone in your body, Dr. Grace.
I rolled my eyes at myself for using his formal prefix after asking him to call me by my first name. But I see where he's coming from. He was a doctor of molecular biology for fuck's sake. He earned that title. But I was no doctor, no master of anything. I had my BA in English. I saw myself being a proficient writer, yet my dreams fell flat once I entered the real world. I wasn't worthy of so much respect.
RG
Thanks for saying that. Miss Haddock, I hate to ask, but is there any way you could let me into the school tomorrow morning? I usually arrive by 7:45, but if you'd be so kind as to help me, I'll work with your schedule.
LH
It would be no trouble at all. I usually get in around 7:30.
RG
Thank you so much. I will be there. Goodnight, Miss Haddock.
I set my phone down with a sigh and took a massive bite of my wrap. It was surprisingly delicious, or maybe I was just starving. Exhaustion was starting to take over, I could barely keep my eyes open. I didn't need to see anyway, I let them fall shut. My eyes only opened to make sure I wasn't about to bite my fingers instead of the wrap. When I had finally finished my dinner, I set the dirty dish in the sink and headed straight to my bedroom to finally change into some comfortable clothes before removing my makeup in the bathroom. There was no energy in me for a shower. I'd have to hope and pray I'd get out of bed early enough in the morning to make it happen. Once my face was clean, I set my alarm to go off a bit earlier than usual to accommodate for my big shower plans. Clover and I cuddled under the blankets until I drifted off into well-earned slumber.
That dreadful, repetitious beeping jolted me out of my unconscious state. My body was already protesting being awake so early. My eyes all but refused to open. I cracked one open just enough to see the time as it was displayed in big, foreboding red numbers. 5:45 AM. I was never a morning person, but I knew that if I had to be up early, I was going to move at a glacial pace. So I gave myself plenty of time to prepare for the day without having to rush. I groaned and forced myself to sit up in bed. Don't fall back asleep. Keep your eyes open. I hounded myself to stay awake. I wobbled to the shower before my body could refuse and cranked on the water. When it was a tolerable temperate, I de-robed and slipped under the drizzle. I scrubbed myself as quickly as possible and dried off in record time. Clover meowed her good morning greeting as I slipped into my bathrobe and trod to the kitchen. Her breakfast was served first, as always.
I threw together a breakfast sandwich for myself and downed it at a rate that would probably make Joey Chestnut proud. Thank god no one was around to see that. If I'm gonna rush at anything, it's eating. Growing up as one of five kids will do that to you. If you wanted seconds, you had to finish your first plate before your older brother ate it all. Sometimes I forgot I'm not still that kid in that house, fighting over everything. I could slow down.
Back in the bathroom, I dried my hair and applied my regular minimal makeup. Just enough to make me look a little more put together. I liked to keep it pretty natural. But that day, I found myself putting in the effort to make sure everything looked absolutely perfect. What the hell was I doing all that for? My kids don't care if my mascara is flawless. Oh. I remember. I'm meeting Dr. Grace this morning to let him in. Was I… trying to impress him? Jesus, I was being ridiculous. I set down the tube of mascara and backed away from the vanity. I opened my closet to find an outfit for the day. I found myself subconsciously opting for the green blouse that accentuated my eyes. I almost scoffed at myself when I realized I was gravitating towards my nicer clothes. I tossed the blouse onto my bed, anyway. There was no harm in wearing it.
By 7 o'clock, I was dressed and ready to head out the door. I picked up Clover, giving her a quick kiss on her head before shouldering my work bag and trudging down those old, creaking stairs. The drive to school was about 20 minutes, but I always made sure to allot extra time for unpredictable traffic. I hoped I wouldn't keep Dr. Grace waiting. Not that he couldn't find anyone else to let him in. But I gave him my word that I'd be there.
Traffic was surprisingly smooth that morning. It was mostly green lights the whole way there. That day was starting to seem like a pretty lucky one. I parked my car and approached the door, looking out for Dr. Grace. I didn't see him, so I sat on the bench near the bike rack and waited. I checked my phone to make sure I hadn't missed any calls or messages from him. The sound of a whirring bike chain and heavy breathing suddenly drew nearer. I turned to look, expecting to see a student. It was Dr. Grace, pink-cheeked with a slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow. I tried to mask my surprise, I didn't know he biked to work. "Hi, Dr. Grace! Um, good morning!" He struggled to catch his breath as he secured the lock on his bicycle.
"Morning," he panted. "Thanks… for uh… doing this," he huffed between every couple of words.
"You bike to work. I didn't know that. Very environmentally friendly."
"Yeah, you could say that. I mostly do it because I can't afford a car," he blurted, looking slightly embarrassed.
"Oh, well there's nothing wrong with that. We have similar salaries, believe me, I get it." We both let out awkward laughs at my comment as he unbuckled his helmet. "Well, let's head in then?" I posed it as a question, unsure if he needed to take a moment to collect himself after the exertion of biking for god knows how far. Dr. Grace nodded subtly and followed me up the concrete stairs to the door. I tapped my ID card to the censor and reached for the handle only to realize his hand was already there. I almost jumped at the warm touch of his skin. "Sorry!" I nearly shrieked with surprise. My hand instinctively pulled away the instant I realized I was touching him. It had been some time since I last held hands with someone, admittedly.
"No, no. I'm sorry," he reassured, hand still on the handle, now holding the door open. I turned to look at him, mouth agape with irresolution. His free hand gestured me inside and I heeded his direction. I uttered a thank-you under my breath, feeling embarrassed. "No, thank you, Miss Haddock," he returned. "I think I owe you for this."
I smiled and shook my head. "Oh, no. Really, it was no big deal." My eyes couldn't seem to meet his. Instead, they ran over his messy blonde hair and his t-shirt that featured a physics pun. Suddenly, I caught his blue gaze peering at me through his glasses. I finally met his stare.
"Seriously. Thank you. If you need a favor, just let me know." His tone was incredibly sincere, it made my heart jump in my chest. I'd never captivated his attention like this before. This was probably the longest conversation we'd ever had. He was looking at me and nothing else, and I noticed exactly how handsome he is. I knew he was pretty good-looking, but damn. I shook my head to clear the thoughts before molding my face into a smile again.
"I will. I'll let you know," I promised. "Have a good one. I hope you find your ID badge." Shit, I hope he doesn't think I meant, find your ID badge so we don't have to do this again. Because the truth is, I'd do this whenever he needed. Every day, even. I grimaced at myself awaiting his reply.
"Yeah, me, too. Thanks again. Have a good one. Don't let those kids wear you out." He waved awkwardly and backed away down the hall. I smiled and waved back, not yet walking toward my own classroom. I wanted to give him a head start so we wouldn't awkwardly walk side-by-side in silence or forced conversation after already saying goodbye. When I was certain it was safe, I began the route to my classroom. I unlocked the door, sat down at my desk, unpacked my bag, and tried to not think about Dr. Ryland Grace.