Chapter Text
A month into the school year and people were still talking about Simon Forster. Ryland thought they would’ve moved on by now, accepting Dr. Forster as another part of their everyday routine, but instead it seemed that every time Ryland made his way through the teacher’s lounge somebody had something to say about him. He took note of how the talk always appeared to fall into one of two categories.
The first being his coworkers who always sung Dr. Forster’s praises. Many spoke of how approachable he was and how, despite his tendency to be blunt, seemed like a well meaning guy. Ryland noticed as well that a couple of the women he worked with may have had a crush on Simon from the way they spoke about him. They often commented on Simon’s looks or his build and the “air of mystery” he had around him.
Then there was the second group who believed that nothing good could come of the new life science teacher. Ryland heard some rumors that he may have been a convicted felon, although what for kept changing depending on the retelling. Regardless, Ryland seriously doubted any of those accusations because, despite the United States school system being what it is, he doubted staff would hire anyone who would pose a serious threat to any of the kids' safety. Then there were a few others who flat out disliked the guy. They often talked about how Dr. Forster was cold and rude anytime they attempted to talk to him.
All of this became very frustrating to Ryland after a month of it, not only because it was getting repetitive, but the mixed signals were not granting any solace to him either. The school had decided in the spring of last school year that the entire curriculum for the seventh grade science fair needed to be updated. So, while they had given him some guidelines, most of the work had been hefted onto Ryland. To make matters worse he was supposed to instruct Simon on how the science fair operated so he could better help out next year. All of this culminated in an exhausting August bleeding into a stressful September and not a word spoken between the two new colleagues.
Eventually, on a Thursday afternoon after all the kids were gone for the day, Ryland had managed to get ahead enough on his work that he could finally make that important introduction. He stashed his lesson plans in his desk and stalked his way through the halls to the classroom tucked away in the back of the building. The door had been left wide open with the door stop holding it in place almost as if inviting Ryland inside. The windows welcomed in the late afternoon sun, letting it cascade across the counters and tables of the classroom. Looking around the room, he noticed how the white walls were left completely bare, the bulletin board in the back had all of one sticky note tacked onto it, and not a single item had been left out on the side counters. It didn’t come as too much of a surprise considering that Dr. Forster hadn’t had too much time to decorate before the semester began and, since he would likely change classrooms by next year, it made sense not to get too comfy. Even still, something about it struck Ryland as sterile and militaristic. Tentatively, he rapped his knuckles against the open door.
“Come in,” he heard a low voice in the room call to him.
Ryland ducked his head into the room before the rest of his body followed. On the left wall sat two, small posters on photosynthesis and the water cycle, the only indications of any personal touch in the entire room and he wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t left over from the room’s previous occupants. In front of him sat a man behind a metal desk. Dr. Simon Forster’s hair cascaded down to his shoulders framing his face in waves and drawing Ryland’s gaze to his eyes. The deep eyes brandished in Ryland’s direction pooled like inkwells and for a moment he couldn’t help but wonder what stories they may have written if only a pen could be dipped in them.
“Hi,” Ryland started as he stepped towards the desk. “Uh, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself for a while. I’m Dr. Ryland Grace, I teach physical science down the hall.” He turned his eyes over to the white board, noting how pristine and unblemished it’s surface was besides the blocked out edge that detailed each period’s homework.
Simon stood and made his way over to Ryland before holding his only hand out. “Dr. Simon Forster.” Ryland couldn’t help but take note of the large scar that ran up Simon’s right arm as he shook his hand. He wasn’t sure why something like that surprised him, considering he had already known that Dr. Forster’s left arm had been gone for some time. “Someone mentioned you’d talk to me about science fair?” Simon asked.
“Yeah,” Ryland answered with a sigh. “I meant to come talk to you sooner but with how this semester has been going and all the stress I’ve been under. . .” He rubbed his face with his hand. “Anyways, since you’re new here I’ll guide you through the process so you don’t get too overloaded. I can handle it myself, but I’ll need to keep you posted so you’ll be ready for next year.”
“I can help,” Simon stated while a resolved expression crossed his face.
“No, you don’t have to, I promise it’s not—”
“I’ll help,” Simon said again. “Anything you need.”
“I—” Ryland tried to think of a valid rejection, but Simon’s certainty blocked his ability to think. “. . . okay,” he relented. “I’ll send you an email later with what we’re looking at so far but, do you have any questions for me at the moment?”
“What’s your doctorate in?” Simon asked while adjusting his flannel.
“Uh microbiology,” Ryland responded automatically despite the question feeling more or less irrelevant. “Although I don’t really like talking about it. Why do you ask?”
“It’s not often you find two middle school teachers with doctorates at the same school.” Simon shrugged. “Most people assume we have better things to do.” He walked back to the desk and began packing his things.
“Hm.” Ryland stood for a moment, watching as Simon rearranged some items on his desk. Something about that last statement bothered him. He wasn’t offended by it, more so he felt deep down he could’ve been doing something more. He stifled the feeling. “What about you?” He decided to redirect away from himself.
“Oh, botany,” Simon said as if a doctorate in botany was as simple to obtain as a blade of grass. “I guess I don’t really like to talk about it either.”
Ryland sighed. He hoped that Simon hadn’t faced the same academic embarrassment that he had but, then again, Simon may have had a more grave reason for leaving that world.
Simon slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that’s all for now,” Ryland answered with his eyes down at his feet.
“Alright, I’m heading out then,” Simon said as he made his way to the door.
“Oh.” Ryland’s heart sunk a little but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t have anything else to say, but for some reason he didn’t want their conversation to end.
Simon stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. “Are you done for the day, Dr. Grace?”
Simon’s question brought him back to reality. “Yes, I am.”
“Grab your things, I’ll walk you to your car,” Simon instructed before stepping out into the hallway.
———
Simon noticed when Ryland met him at the door that instead of car keys, he held a bicycle helmet in his hand. Ryland apparently saw the confusion in his face and decided to explain.
“My old car broke down a month ago,” he stated.
Simon shrugged and opened the door for him. Walking out, they made their way to the faculty parking. The summer heat was finally beginning to fade into the coming autumn, granting the pair some reprieve as they stepped into the warm afternoon.
“How long have you worked here?” Simon asked after a moment.
“Oh, around four years now,” Ryland answered as they walked down the pavement.
“Did they warm up to you after a while?” Simon asked. Every since he started working, everyone had seemed friendly but distant. He understood that there would be some adjustment time as the new guy, yet he still couldn’t shake the feeling that a lot of the faculty was intentionally avoiding him. There was only so much that being the new guy could excuse.
“Well, you know, the kids are all at that age. . .” Ryland trailed off as Simon stopped on the side walk. He looked at Simon’s expression unsure what to make of it.
“The kids all seem to like me just fine,” Simon began while looking up at the clouds. “Although a couple of them might be a little scared of me.” He smiled at the memory. “Everybody else is kinda distant though. Like I’m contagious or something.”
Simon regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He avoided talking about anything personal or vulnerable whenever possible. He honestly wasn’t sure why he had opened up that little bit to Ryland in the moment. Maybe it was because he was the first to actually hold a full conversation with Simon or maybe Ryland was just easy to talk to. He didn’t know and didn’t want to analyze it further than he absolutely had to.
“Yeah, hmm. . .” Ryland’s eyes jumped from place to place as if searching for the words in the trees. “I’m not really sure. . . I don’t think people know what to make of you yet or how you ‘fit in’ so to speak. You know, you’re a little unusual for a middle school teacher, but I guess we’re similar that way.”
“Hm.” Simon got the feeling that Ryland fit the dictionary definition of what a middle school teacher was like despite the doctorate, but either way he felt the need to change subjects before this went on any further. “Hey, I think I parked right next to you.”
“W-what?” Ryland whipped his head around to the bicycle rack. His was the only one there, but that wasn’t what Simon was referring to.
Simon stepped ahead to the motorcycle parking and picked up the helmet off the back of his Harley.
“That’s yours?” Ryland asked, seeming a little more embarrassed about his bicycle.
“Meh, I’ve been working on it a couple years,” Simon said plainly. “Had to save up for some of the modifications because of my missing arm. Then I just had to get it to run.” He made the engine roar to life.
Ryland wordlessly put on his bike helmet but his eyes were still glued to the motorcycle.
Simon allowed himself one final moment of vulnerability for the evening. “Hey, would you want to get something to eat sometime? Like lunch maybe?”
Ryland’s brain seemed to be on autopilot. “Um, yeah, there’s actually a little diner I go to for breakfast if you’d want to join me.” He pulled his bike out from the rack.
“That sounds great,” Simon said before putting on his helmet and driving off.
———
It wasn’t until Simon’s figure was rapidly retreating in the distance that Ryland processed what he had just agreed to.
“Wait what did he just ask me?!” he whispered to himself. Breakfast with Simon? he thought. Why would Simon want to have a meal with me?
He got on his bike and pedaled away, hoping that Simon would forget about it. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he got flustered just thinking about what happened in the parking lot and in the back of his mind Ryland couldn’t shake the feeling Simon wouldn’t forget.