Chapter Text
Chapter One
“Please don’t roll your eyes at me, Mr. Spring,” Sophie begged, her face a perfect mixture between pleading and annoyed. Charlie took a beat to school his face, switching from impatient to impassive.
“Sorry, Sophie. I just don’t think this is as serious a situation as you make it out to be,” he said, trying to coat his words with a gentle firmness instead of exasperation. He truly cared about his students, but Sophie’s neuroses were teetering on that narrow border between ‘annoying’ and ‘concerning’. She gaped back at him, eyes widened in disbelief.
“Not a serious situation…” she breathed to herself, shaking her head dazedly. “Mr. Spring. My life is literally hanging in the balance!” she wailed, flopping back into her seat. “How…how does a perfectly planned and manicured life go from what it was yesterday to this shit version in one afternoon!?”
Charlie took a steadying, slow inhale through his nose and fluttered his eyes close for a second too long. He opened them to look Sophie directly in her eyes.
“Sophie, I need you to hear me when I say this,” he said firmly, reaching out to place both of his hands down on his desk. She glanced up slowly, her eyes meeting his with a stubborn glare. “Being waitlisted to your second choice school does not signify what you seem to think it does, especially when you told me last week that you would…let’s see,” he scuffled through some papers on his desk until he found the one, and then read loudly, “and I quote, 'literally never step foot there unless forced.’”
“But Mr. Spring, they rejected me!” Sophie spat out. “And I didn’t even want them! And now look at me,” she said, gesturing wildly at herself, eyes bugging out. “I’m desperate for their attention now!” she said, bending to slowly beat her forehead against his desk. Charlie let Sophie’s words hang in the air in between them for a few minutes before a giggle escaped his mouth. “Are you laughing?” Sophie mumbled from her face-down position in front of him.
“This is like the classic tactic used by boys against both of us our whole lives,” he snickered, eyes dancing. “We don’t even want them but when they pre-emptively reject us, we can’t get enough of them.” Sophie lifted her head from the desk, piecing his words together, before a snort escaped her mouth.
“Oh my god,” she giggled. “How do you know these things about my personal life!” she covered her mouth with her hand. Heaving a dramatic sigh, she stood up, seeming to have gotten what she needed out of her meeting. “And come on, Mr. Spring, I don’t believe for a second you were ever preemptively rejected,” she said with an eye-roll. She turned toward the door and gave him a little wave. “I’m still pissed, but I can at least wait to hear from the other schools before planning my eventual disintegration into the b-list state schools I dread.”
Charlie rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her and gave a little wave. She slipped out through his open door. You’d be surprised, he thought to himself. More rejections in my past than successes. He turned back to his files and marked that Sophie had been wait-listed for Dartmouth before snapping his laptop shut and turning to pack up his bag for the day. He glanced up when he spotted movement flit across his doorway. Was that…who he thought it was? His eyes narrowed as he tried to see through his window into the quickly emptying hallway, tracing the movement to a tall, lanky blond man as he passed by.
Charlie shot up out of his chair, looking around his desk quickly to gather up his belongings in an attempt to catch up with the man before he got too far ahead. He clicked his office door shut behind him and then jogged lightly to make up ground before slowing to a casual walk a few paces behind. The man hadn’t noticed him yet, so Charlie faked a cough into his ‘cough pocket’, as they were trained to call it, before muttering an ‘excuse me’ into the empty space around him. Triumph! The man ahead of him turned around at the sound and his eyes caught Charlie’s.
“Oh, hey Charlie,” he said, slowing as he turned around and waited for Charlie to catch up. Charlie internally squealed that he’d managed to create a casual run-in with his crush without having to go too far out of his way or be too obvious.
“Oh hi Scott, how’s it going,” he attempted casually, slinging his favorite leather laptop bag further up his lean, muscular shoulders.
Scott gave him an easy smile. “It’s Thursday,” he said, with a little shrug. “So I guess I’m getting there.”
Charlie glanced Scott briefly up and down; he was wearing a baby blue sweater over a checkered button-up shirt and khakis. Sensible brown shoes. Very teacherly, and very similar to what he wore every day. Charlie glanced down at his own outfit; scuffed corduroy mustard yellow converse, black skinny jeans, and a giant turquoise and black leopard print sweater. It was okay that Scott wasn’t particularly fashionable; after the heyday of Charlie’s previous crushes and romantic partners, someone sensible and unassuming was all that he wanted. And he had wanted Scott for going on two years now.
Scott was a senior history teacher, and last year, during Charlie’s first year at Northview Preparatory School, he had been in an assistant support staff role, working one-on-one with a caseload of students who were struggling in English while he finished his counseling degree in the evenings. One of the students Charlie had bonded with the most during that first year – due to the sheer amount of academic ground that needed to be covered - was a boy named Kingston in Scott’s class. Because of that, Charlie would arrive twice a week at the door to his classroom, knocking gently, conferring with Scott about any specific requests or areas of focus, and then taking Kingston across the hall to a private room where they could work together for 40 minutes on reading comprehension and how to properly write a five-point essay. Charlie’s consistent presence with Kingston had broken the ice with Scott, and the two had formed a professional friendship that occasionally bled into after-dinner drinks with other staff on Fridays and the random house party.
Fresh out of the toxic mind-fuck of a relationship that had been his experience with Ben, Charlie had initially been drawn to Scott’s calm presence, kind and steady interactions with his students, and, of course, the tiny rainbow pin in the corner of his classroom corkboard. The first time he’d noticed it, Charlie felt his temperature increase and his cheeks pinken with the knowledge. He’d never considered Scott previously, because he’d assumed he was straight, but seeing that pin had metaphorically removed the scales from his eyes, and he saw Scott in a new light after that. From that moment on, Charlie had ever so subtly – at least he thought – inserted himself into Scott’s life with a bit more intention; arriving a few minutes early to pick up Kingston so he and Scott could chat about his approach, lingering after the sessions to debrief, finding himself volunteering for lunch and dismissal duties with the senior staff instead of accepting random assignments. And, so far, it seemed to be working. He and Scott had become actual friends over the previous summer, when a small cluster of copacetic staff from the school had gotten together a few times for summer festival, day trips to Chicago, and concerts.
This year, Charlie had been offered the official role of Guidance Counselor upon completion of his degree and had transitioned into it with ease due to his knowledge of the school, staff, and students. The one down side of the change was his lack of natural interaction with Scott; what had been an easy way to grow and maintain a friendship through the guise of work-related discussions had to be a bit more intentional, and with that came a bit more scrutiny from their co-workers.
They walked out of Northview Preparatory School together, chatting about their days aimlessly and comfortably.
“I noticed Sophie stalking out of your office earlier,” Scott mentioned, turning to assess Charlie’s reaction. “Everything okay?”
Charlie rolled his eyes dramatically. “I love how everyone knows how intense she can be, even if they aren’t her teacher,” he joked. “But yes, she’s fine. She got waitlisted for Dartmouth and almost had a panic attack about it, but then I reminded her that she didn’t want to go to Dartmouth and she perked up a bit,” Charlie said with a chuckle.
“Hah, nice, it’s always good to use students’ words against them,” Scott responded, squinting into the sun. Warmth spread through Charlie as he and Scott made their way across the potholed parking lot to their cars and. Charlie started working up the courage to ask Scott what he was up to over the weekend when Scott spoke again.
“I see Darcy over there,” he said, pointing back toward the school at the crowd of teachers and students gathered for dismissal. Charlie’s eyes tracked where Scott pointed to find another senior teacher, her blond hair glinting in the sunlight. “I need to catch up with her about something, so I guess I’ll see you around,” he finished, nodding at Charlie and turning to head back where he came from.
“Okay, bye,” Charlie said, dazed by the abrupt end to their conversation. “Catch you later.” Charlie unlocked the door to his dark green Honda Civic and tossed his bag in the passenger’s seat. His thoughts were caught up on his short drive home, wondering what to make of Scott. They were obviously friends – they spent enough time in each other’s company outside of school for that to be clear to both of them. They had an affinity for each other too, finding no shortage of points of commonality to talk about; from music, to their families, to their upbringings, they were similar in ways that really mattered to Charlie. Their conversations flowed easily and were punctuated with laughter. Plus, they were both single and queer, so their growing friendship had to mean something to Scott, right? But there seemed to be a certain distance; a reticence behind his eyes, that Charlie didn’t know how to interpret. Maybe he was just shy and unsure how to make his interest known? Charlie understood that, certainly. Maybe he really didn’t want to be in a relationship? Charlie revisited these thoughts like a worry stone, rubbing over the same curves and crevices any time he found himself alone with his thoughts. He’d replay their most recent conversation, desperate for any clues or insight, but found himself coming up short again and again.
“I’m ho-ome!” he called out as he slipped his shoes off by the front door to his apartment.
“In the kitchen,” Isaac, his roommate, responded. Charlie ambled in, dropping his bag and keys in the entryway and making his way into their tiny kitchen. Isaac was bent over, rifling through the fridge when Charlie walked in and playfully swatted him on the bum.
“Happy weekend,” Charlie said with a smirk as Isaac whirled around holding a piece of string cheese pointed at him like a sword.
“Aren’t you feeling cheeky,” Isaac said with a roll of his eyes.
“Something like that,” Charlie responded, swiping the cheese from Isaac, opening it, and popping it into his mouth.
“Rude,” Isaac said flatly, turning back around and grabbing another. “What are you up to this weekend?” he asked. The pair made their way into their living room, dropping onto their well-loved couch together.
“Eh,” Charlie said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t have anything planned yet, but who knows. You?”
Isaac looked back at Charlie and silently lifted up a pristine copy of some hardback book Charlie had never heard of. “I have a date with Jonathan Franzen,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Sadly, not by choice. But I’m due to get my edits back early next week and got distracted with reading for pleasure over the last few days, so I will do my job and read this monstrosity as quickly as possible so I can get back to it,” he explained.
“Roy’s cracking the whip on you, yeah?” Charlie asked, and was greeted with another eye roll and a huff of breath from Isaac.
“Something like that,” he muttered. “Ever since he found out that I read twice as much for pleasure than I do for work, he’s increased my workload. Luckily for me, sometimes the two overlap so I’ll be alright.”
Few of Charlie’s friends were more well-suited to their jobs than Isaac. One of his best friends from high school that he had stayed in touch with during college and then reconnected with properly after moving back home, he and Isaac quickly became roommates and then better friends than they had ever been before. Where Charlie was harried and busy with work and growing his social circle locally, Isaac was a homebody who kept their apartment neat, well-stocked on groceries, and, puzzlingly, did all the laundry. What at first felt to Charlie like a lopsided living arrangement advantage had become a comfortable habit, and Charlie repaid Isaac’s house-husband-level care by regaling him with stories of student meltdowns, coworker gossip, and tedious retellings of every interaction he and Scott had each day. Plus, he covered the groceries.
“What about you, how was work today?” Isaac asked, taking another bite of his piece of string cheese.
“Let’s see,” Charlie said, leaning to his side and tucking his feet under himself as he settled in. “My type-A student had a meltdown about being waitlisted,” he started.
“That’ll be Sophie, yeah?” Isaac asked, ever the engaged listener.
“Correct, Sophie. And before that, Liam was in asking again if I’d heard back from Notre Dame, and…I told him I hadn’t,” Charlie said, sighing deeply and avoiding eye contact.
“But…you had?” Isaac asked after a beat.
“It was literally right before he walked in,” Charlie defended. “I got an email from them telling me they weren’t planning on granting his internship. But I hadn’t had a chance to figure out how to break it to him gently so I told him to check back in on Tuesday.” He rubbed his hand across his face. “I really didn’t want to mislead him, but I like to prepare for conversations a bit when I know I’m breaking a kid’s heart,” he said mournfully. Isaac looked at him with gentle eyes and nudged his thigh with his own.
“I think that’s probably fine, it’s not like you told him he’d gotten in or something,” he reasoned. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Charlie picking at an imaginary piece of lint on his jeans. “So!” Isaac said with a renewed energy and a glint in his eye. “Any interactions with your man?” he asked with a little wiggle to his shoulders.
“Hah, barely,” Charlie said, flopping back onto the couch again with a sigh. “I just-“
“Wait!” Isaac yelped. “I can tell where this is headed.” He stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with their half empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the night before and two wine glasses. He poured a glass for himself and one for Charlie and then settled back in. “Okay, go on.”
Charlie grabbed the wine and took a small sip, weighing what he wanted to say, before it spilled out of him. “I just can’t tell what he’s thinking!” he huffed, taking another sip. “Every interaction is friendly, every conversation is engaging and fun and I can tell he like, truly appreciates being friends with me, but sometimes I feel like,” Charlie trailed off, searching for the right words. “I feel like…if I didn’t make an effort to randomly walk by his class, or follow-up after a session with Kingston, or go on group outings with the other teachers, we’d hardly speak, and he wouldn’t particularly care.”
Isaac’s eyes widened at Charlie’s confession, and he wordlessly emptied the remaining wine into Charlie’s glass. “That’s…a heavy way of looking at things,” he said cautiously. Charlie let out a harsh laugh and took another sip of his wine, nodding in acknowledgement of the heavy pour.
“I know…I’ve never really said that out loud, or even really thought about it like that, but I guess that’s how I feel right now.” They settled into a thoughtful silence again, lost in their own thoughts about everything.
“Charlie,” Isaac started, “do you think you should maybe,” he paused, looking around the room and settling on something in the mid distance. “Do you think maybe you should just…ask him what he thinks about you? Or maybe even tell him how you feel about him?”
Charlie drew in a deep breath. To be honest, that thought had crossed his mind quite frequently over the last few months. As his crush reached unbearable levels, he was starting to display habits he thought he’d left in the past; habits that he wasn’t proud of and didn’t want to fall into again. He thought he had ‘done the work’ and ‘recognized unhealthy patterns’ and ‘made coping strategies’ and all the other things he was supposed to do, but here he was again, on the brink of a mental breakdown over whether someone liked him back. He was way too old for this shit. He let out another frustrated groan and then swung his feet off the couch and stood up suddenly.
“Wanna go out or something?” he asked, feeling antsy with the sudden mood shift the evening had taken. Isaac raised his eyebrows and spluttered on the sip of wine he’d just taken.
“Now? Like, right now? It’s 4:30pm, Charlie. Why don’t we just…relax for a bit and see how we feel in a couple hours,” he suggested slowly. Charlie gave another frustrated sigh and flopped back down onto the couch.
“But I do think there’s a chance Scott likes me,” he wailed, glancing at Isaac hopefully. “The other day when we got drinks after work with Darcy and a couple other teachers, they all left and Scott and I stayed for another round before we called it a night,” Charlie said.
“I remember that,” Isaac answered gently. He kindly didn’t mention that they’d stayed up dissecting every moment of that night when Charlie returned home, giddily knocking on Isaac’s door to fill him in. “Look, Charlie, I do get why you’re confused. Is there a way you can be happy if you’re just friends?” he asked.
Charlie chewed on his lip and considered the question for a moment. “I think, maybe, I could be just friends with Scott, but I don’t think I could if I thought there was still a chance he liked me,” he finished. He and Isaac met eyes across the couch.
“And are there any ways for you to find out if he likes you without directly asking or telling him?” Isaac prodded. Charlie let out a huff of air and gave Isaac a flat look.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said.
“I’m not doing anything!” Isaac said, lifting his palms up in a show of innocence. “I’m truly trying to help you figure out if you have any options to move forward or not.”
They stared at each other again. Charlie could tell Isaac wanted to say something, but was hesitating.
“Come on, out with it,” he said, gesturing his chin at Isaac. “What are you thinking.”
“Well,” Isaac started, delicately. He looked up and to the left as he considered his next words. “I was just wondering if perhaps being coworkers is a problem for Scott, and whether he likes you or not, dating wouldn’t be an option on principle?” He finally met Charlie’s eyes, and when they did, his were full of compassion and a bit of sadness.
“Like, you mean, maybe he just won’t let himself go there? With anyone he works with?” Charlie asked, feeling a bit lightheaded at the prospect. He instantly flashed back to a party he’d been at during his first year at Northview, a year and a half ago at least, when he and Scott were little more than work acquaintances but after Charlie had started to pay attention to his burgeoning crush. He had somehow managed to get himself invited over to Scott’s housewarming party, the first time they’d interacted outside of the school, and they had magically found themselves alone next to the charcuterie platter.
A new crop of teachers had joined the staff after the recent winter break to replace the formerly new teachers who had flamed out spectacularly during their first semester. Among the recent hires was a bold, brash, bombastic, and extremely talented new hire named Jonathan who had walked in like he owned the place. Charlie hated him immediately. But, he seemed to be in the minority, as word spread quickly that Mr. Jonathan, all six feet four inches of him, was the object of affection for all of the queer students and staff at Northview.
Being out and gay at Northview wasn’t a big deal. Charlie was obviously gay, with his giant rainbow flag draped behind his desk and his nail polish and his openness. Scott was less loud about it, but clearly out to anyone who paid attention and appreciated subtlety, like Charlie. Jonathan, on the other hand, made Charlie seem like he was hiding bits of himself with how openly he discussed his long-distance and long-term boyfriend during the interview process. When he showed up a week later with red-rimmed eyes, he regaled any teacher who would listen about their sudden breakup and his intention to hook up with anyone who would have him as a way to ‘numb the pain’. That didn’t seem like Scott’s vibe, if Charlie really thought about it, but it still aroused Charlie’s suspicions and made him hyper-focused on any interaction he observed between Scott and Jonathan. Which brought him back to the charcuterie board at Scott’s housewarming party.
Charlie and Scott were filling plates with delicate slices of brie and aged white cheddar ('Such taste!' Charlie thought indulgently) when a loud crash followed by Jonathan’s honking laughter had sounded through the open doorway. Scott and Charlie both glanced up quickly and locked eyes with each other. “Sounds like Jonathan is christening your new apartment,” Charlie said with a sly grin, looking over his shoulder as Scott’s eyes widened.
“Oh my god,” Scott said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “If I don’t get my security deposit back…” Scott set his plate down and turned toward the door, before a loud yell came back through.
“EVERYTHING IS FINE, SCOTT, DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT!” followed by more laughter from the main room. Scott stilled and took a steadying breath.
“I’m sure everything is fine,” Charlie said, taking the smallest step toward Scott with a shy smile that he hoped was both comforting and, somehow, a bit sexy. He didn’t really think he hit the mark, though, as Scott stepped back ever so slightly with a furrowed brow. Charlie tried to deflect from the slightly awkward exchange. “So, ah, I didn’t know you and Jonathan were friends?” he offered. Scott seemed less distracted by the disturbance in the other room as he turned back to his plate and forked a piece of salami onto it.
“Yeah, friendly enough,” he said with a slight shrug.
“You know,” Charlie started, fumbling his words for a second, feeling his heartbeat pick up. “You know he’s gay too, right?” Scott and Charlie had never discussed their sexuality before now; Charlie, of course, assumed that Scott knew about him, given his outspokenness and the visual cues that littered his desk. When Scott tilted his head to look at Charlie with an inscrutable expression, Charlie had a moment of panic that he’d potentially read the clues entirely wrong and Scott wasn’t gay at all. What if the PRIDE pin on his corkboard was simply a way to mark his room as a safe space for his queer students? He internally started panicking before Scott spoke again.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah I know,” he glanced around nervously. “We’ve acknowledged that,” he said, a tiny spot of pink rising up on his cheeks.
'Huh, that’s interesting,' Charlie thought, seeing as he’d been working with Scott for almost six months and they’d never mentioned it, but Jonathan had only been at the school for a few weeks. For all Charlie knew of him, Jonathan probably saw the pin and then loudly called out, “Hey, Mr. Scott! I didn’t know you were gay – me too!” Though, the breakup and Jonathan’s interest in one-night stands niggled at the back of his mind as a potential – unlikely, he hoped – option.
“Ah, right, of course,” Charlie said, nodding quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to, you know, be um, surprised by that or anything.” He picked up his plate and quickly added several pickles to the platter. Scott’s cheeks were covered in a blush, now, and Charlie sensed the conversation coming to a close. I’m an idiot. I failed an attempt to flirt with my co-worker and then insinuated that he and my other coworker might be fucking. Charlie truly had no game, and he never had.
“Uh, Charlie,” Scott said, stammering a bit and seeming nervous. “Jonathan is…he’s a nice guy. But…” he paused, searching for the words, and then settled his eyes soflty onto his platter of cheddar and Club crackers. “I wouldn’t really date someone I worked with,” he finished.
“Oh,” Charlie said, somehow chastened by the conversation. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Right,” he said, working hard to keep his voice steady. “Wouldn’t want that, would we,” he laughed weakly. “Work and pleasure and all. And… you know, they don’t…mix.” Charlie could not control his stammering. “I mean, like, usually. At least in my experience!” he said with a loud laugh. Charlie had never dated a coworker. This was a disaster. Scott didn’t seem to catch on and just nodded along.
“Right,” Scott echoed. He grabbed his cheese plate and turned toward the doorway. “Anyway, I should check to see that everything is alright in there,” he said, slipping out through the door. Charlie let out a deep and nervous breath after he was alone with the charcuterie platter again, but luckily, after several mixed drinks and plenty of conversations with the rest of the staff throughout the evening, he’d forgotten about the brief exchange he and Scott had shared until Isaac had floated the idea a minute ago.
“Charlie, are you still with me?” Isaac was poking Charlie in the ribs now as Charlie eased out of the long-forgotten exchange.
“Sorry,” he started, shaking his head a bit. “I just remembered a conversation Scott and I had way back when I first started liking him. You might be onto something with the coworker thing,” Charlie said, before recounting the exchange to Isaac. He listened carefully, laughing at Charlie’s reenactment of his nervous stammering, rolling his eyes at the mention of Jonathan, who, now, a year and a half later, had graduated from an unknown nuisance to Charlie’s gay arch-rival, and he nodded sagely at Scott’s mention of not being interested in dating coworkers.
“I bet that’s it,” Isaac said with finality. “Honestly, so many pieces just fell into place.”
“Okay, well enlighten me then,” Charlie said, taking a big gulp of wine and bringing his knees to his chest. For some reason, he had a feeling that Isaac was about to drop some hard truths on him.
“I bet he could like you, and I bet he knows that,” Isaac started carefully, tapping his finger against his lips as he spoke. Charlie nodded encouragingly for him to continue. “But, I also think he’s maybe unwilling to explore that due to being work colleagues,” he said with a little nod and a small frown.
“That doesn’t sound particularly hopeful,” Charlie said glumly after waiting to see if Isaac was planning on adding anything.
“Possibly not,” Isaac answered simply.
“So, what do I do then?” Charlie asked. “About this,” he gestured to himself, indicating his current raging crush that had teetered past acceptable as he found himself driving past Scott’s apartment on his way home from work and canceling plans with friends if there was a chance Scott might show up at some party with their work friends. Charlie would work his way into an invite, and then arrive to find that he was wrong, and instead was at a party with work colleagues he didn’t particularly care for, with no Scott in sight, while his friends got drinks without him on the other side of town.
“Well, I hate to sound like a broken record, but I think you ask him or tell him directly about what’s going on, or you just consider it a non-entity and try to move on.”
“You didn’t bring up the third option,” Charlie said, raising a finger at Isaac.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
“I keep on pining and my mental health continues to unravel,” Charlie said with a bitter laugh. He stood up, threw back the rest of his wine and took their empty glasses to the kitchen. “I’m going to turn in early,” he said when he came back through the living room. “I’ve had enough of today.”
“Okay,” Isaac said, understanding where Charlie’s head was at like few other friends could. “Just…if it makes you feel any better, wanting to date someone and not being able to isn’t the same as being rejected. Life gets in the way sometimes, and that doesn’t mean you aren’t worthy of his affections.”
“Thanks, Isaac,” Charlie said with a sad nod. “I’ll plan to put that on my gravestone. ‘Here lies Charlie Spring. Life got in his way sometimes, but he was worthy of the affection he never got.’”
Charlie’s mood had lifted by the next day, and given the somewhat depressing note it had started on, he’d managed to fit in a good weekend, with trips to the farmer’s market with Isaac, a long FaceTime with his sister Tori, a deep clean of his apartment, and a lovely run in the sunshine.
He loved his long Sunday runs, and often referred to them as ‘going to church’. It’s where he let his mind wander and puzzle over things that had been bothering him; he’d solved many complicated work situations and tangled emotions during his runs, and always returned home feeling physically exhausted but mentally sharp. This Sunday had been no different, and he had decided that he would tell Scott how he felt the next time they hung out. He walked into Northview on Monday morning with a sense of purpose, and quickly spotted his friend Darcy across the parking lot as he pulled into his regular spot. He slung his leather laptop bag over his shoulder and strode over to her, where she was stationed for early morning bus duty.
“Heya pal,” she said as she saw him, her cheeks rosy and blond-hair whipping in the wind. She gave him a big grin. “Sorry about Sophie last week…she was in such a state and I was in the middle of a trig lesson; I just told her to go talk to you. I know you can handle her better than I do anyway.” She laughed, a big bold laugh that matched her personality.
“No worries, Darcy,” Charlie said easily. “I talked her off the ledge.” Darcy smiled as her eyes scanned the students headed in from their parents’ cars, the school busses, and the city bus stop, making sure all was running smoothly.
“Hey, want to grab lunch before the staff training tomorrow?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight. It was unusual that classroom teachers had a chance to leave the school for lunch, but tomorrow was a rare student half-day followed by teacher training in the afternoon. Most of the staff hated days like this, wishing they could just go home and catch up on grading or their personal lives, but Charlie loved it. As a support staff member and the school’s guidance counselor, he cherished the moments he got to be included with the rest of the teaching staff, learning about ways to better support their kids through the latest stress management resources, or how to properly file incident reports. Did it make him a nerd? Possibly, but he was at peace with it.
He had an ulterior motive for getting to Darcy about lunch before anyone else did, and that was that, in addition to being one of his favorite teachers – always quick with a laugh and hopelessly devoted to her students – Darcy was also quite close with Scott. If Charlie locked in lunch plans with Darcy now, he was reasonably certain that Scott would be invited (along with some others), and Charlie would get a chance to set up a time for him and Scott to talk. He knew he could ask what Scott’s week was like and find a way to casually set up a chance for them to get together; perhaps even that afternoon as teachers trickled out earlier than usual and without the normal stress of navigating students all afternoon. Now that Charlie had decided to put it all out there, he wanted to get it over with before he lost his nerve.
So, the next day, after the students were dismissed at 11:30, Charlie meandered over toward Darcy's classroom to meet up for their pre-planned lunch. He poked his head into her classroom and saw her tidying up her desk.
“Hey, Darcy, still up for lunch today?” he asked. She glanced up and smiled.
“Sure thing, Charlie! I mentioned we were going to a couple buddies, so we’re all going to meet out by the staff parking lot in five,” she said as she grabbed her scuffed black backpack with the Grateful Dead dancing bear patch displayed prominently on the pocket.
“Perfect,” Charlie affirmed. They walked out together, waving at a couple other staff members, and found a small huddle of their colleagues waiting for them. Charlie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Scott there, smiling back at them and waving.
The three of them piled into Darcy’s Jeep, and Charlie was content sitting in the back seat and listening to Scott and Darcy’s animated conversation about two of their students who had gotten into a fight earlier in the week. Charlie marveled at how open and carefree Scott sounded when he laughed with Darcy; it was different than he seemed with him. They had been friends for years, and he and Scott only had about a year under their belts.
They parked and walked into the restaurant, gathering at the entrance to pick up plates and napkins.
“So, Mr. Scott,” Darcy said, teasingly. “Have you been out with that guy again?” Charlie, who was standing right behind the two of them, halted in his tracks. What guy?
“Actually, I have,” Scott answered back, and Charlie could tell he was speaking through a smile. Charlie felt his heart drop.
“And, how’s it going,” Darcy asked in a sing-songy voice, nudging Scott with her shoulder.
“It’s going pretty well,” Scott answered back after a brief pause, bumping her shoulder back.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Charlie ordered himself. Do not let them see you panic. He stuffed his feelings down deep and painted his face with a bright smile.
“That’s awesome,” he exclaimed tightly from behind Darcy and Scott. They turned and smiled at him, Darcy nodding excitedly and Scott looking a bit bashful.
“Yeah,” he echoed. “It’s been really fun.” The three of them headed toward a table, and Charlie saw Scott incline his head toward Darcy in a subtle nod of thanks. Darcy’s eyes flickered to Charlie’s uncertainly, and he saw then that this had been intentional; a gentle way for Scott and Darcy to let him down without embarrassing him. His face instantly warmed, and a prickle of sweat formed on his hairline and his low back.
“I’m just gonna run to the restroom real quick,” he said, noticing Darcy and Scott share a concerned look before he turned and practically ran from the table.
'Fuck,', he whispered as he stepped into the bathroom. 'Fuck fuck fuck.' As if finding out your crush was dating someone wasn’t enough, to have it acknowledged with such pity was something from which he would never recover. His breath came out in spurts, and he turned on the faucet as cold as it could go, wetting his hands and running them across his face. Just be cool, Charlie, he said to himself, gulping in a few deep breaths and blowing them out. They can’t know how bad this hurts if you don’t show them. After ensuring his color had returned back to normal, he squared his shoulders with finality and stepped back into the restaurant with confidence. Stuffing down his enormous feelings of shame and heartbreak; nothing he hadn’t done before.