Chapter Text
Cyrus jumped in alarm as a rogue soccer ball hit the classroom window. His coffee mug tipped violently over the desk, and he hastily seized his laptop to protect it from the caffeinated flash flood. With his other hand he reached for the mug, but it slipped through his fingers and smashed on the linoleum floor. He sighed as he surveyed the mess. It could hardly be described as his day.
It was the first day back at school after Christmas vacation. Of course, Cyrus didn’t personally celebrate Christmas, and Hanukkah had ended before the vacation had even started, but he had nonetheless appreciated the time off. Today, though, things were really not going his way. His alarm had failed to go off. A heavy frost had set in and his car had spent ten minutes refusing to start, and in his desperation to fix it, he had forgotten his lunch. An icy patch of road had nearly sent him spiralling into a tree, and Michaela, the college student who volunteered in the classroom, had called in sick. Now he couldn’t even enjoy his lunchtime coffee.
Three small faces, two boys and a girl, were peering nervously in through the classroom window. He beckoned them in, and they trooped in, looking rather sheepish.
“What happened?” he said, resting his computer on a student desk and folding his arms. They all started talking at once. Cyrus held up a hand. “One at a time?”
“Sorry, Mr Goodman,” said the taller boy, taking a step forward. “I kicked it too hard.”
“Would you like us to help you clean up?” said the girl.
“Thank you, Lucy, that’s kind. Could you go and fetch some paper towels from the bathroom, please?” She nodded and hurried off. “Darren, I need a dustpan and brush. And Isaac… could you go to the teachers’ lounge and ask whoever’s there to bring me another cup of coffee?”
“Um, okay,” he said. “Can I have the hall pass?” Cyrus spun around, looking for the pass.
“Ah, here it is.” He passed it over, and Isaac wandered away.
“Mr Goodman, I got the dustpan, but I can’t find the brush,” chirped Darren.
“Well, that’ll have to do.” He crouched down and picked the fragments up and dropped them into the dustpan, then gently handed it over to the tiny wiry-haired 7-year-old in front of him. “There. Now, very carefully, you can tip that into the trash.” Darren took his cargo in both hands, and obediently disposed of the broken pieces. He was putting the dustpan away again when Lucy dashed back in, carrying a large stack of paper towels. Cyrus shook his head in amusement. “Lucy, we’re mopping up coffee, not the Gulf of Mexico.”
“Huh?” She wrinkled her nose at him in confusion. As far as she was concerned, she had brought the exact right amount for such a colossal spill. He chuckled.
“I’m kidding, thank you for the towels.” He sent Lucy and Darren to play outside again and started clearing up the mess. The desk was almost dry when Isaac returned.
“Mr Goodman?”
“Oh, hi, Isaac. Any joy?”
“Not exactly,” said the boy apologetically. “The only person there was the new guidance counsellor.”
“There’s a new guidance counsellor?” Cyrus said, mildly surprised. No one told him anything.
“Yeah, Mr… Kippen, I think?” Isaac wrinkled his nose trying to remember. “Anyway, he said he hasn’t figured out how to work the coffee machine yet. He said sorry.”
“Never mind, thanks for trying,” Cyrus said, smiling at him. “Put the hall pass back on the shelf and you can go and play again.”
“Thanks!”
“And mind the windows!” Cyrus called after him. The door slammed shut and Cyrus slumped back into his desk chair. He refreshed his email, and, sure enough, there was one from Principal Moore, informing the staff about their new colleague. He skimmed the message. Isaac had been right – TJ Kippen, the new guidance counsellor. He made a mental note to go and introduce himself at the end of the day. For now, though, he had math tests to mark. Cyrus hated giving tests. He hated the way the class fell into a gloomy silence for an hour. He hated the way the students’ heads fell whenever he announced it. Mostly he hated having to report that a child was failing when they couldn’t learn by rote as well as others. He had wanted to teach basically forever, but he didn’t want his students to resent him.
He was just finishing when the bell rang indicating the end of lunch. He ignored the rumble in his stomach as his students swarmed back into the classroom, many of their faces flushed with cold and all bundled in coats, hats, scarves and gloves. Once they were all seated, he took attendance and told them what they were doing that afternoon.
“So, our topic this term is Ancient Egypt.” He paused to allow an interested murmur to circle the room. He was about to continue when there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Principal Moore entered with a man Cyrus didn’t recognise.
Cyrus did not generally consider himself to be a romantic. Emotionally driven? Yes. Sensitive? Definitely. Dramatic? Undoubtedly. But an easily-smitten dreamer who believed in love at first sight? Absolutely not. Not any more, anyway. That said, standing in front of him was arguably the most attractive man Cyrus had ever seen. The stranger stood about three inches taller than him, with blond hair which, though mostly unstyled, gave him an extra inch. His eyes were so green, Cyrus noticed, and a slight mischievous smile and a faint sprinkling of freckles accentuated his handsome features. His navy suit framed his lean figure nicely, and his smile widened when he saw Cyrus. Cyrus hoped he wasn’t blushing.
“I’m sorry to intrude on your lesson, Mr Goodman,” said Principal Moore. She gestured to the stranger beside her. “This is Mr Kippen, our new guidance counsellor.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Cyrus. “Say hello, kids.”
“Hello, Mr Kippen,” they chorused, and the visitor grinned.
“It’s great to meet you guys,” he said cheerfully. “My office is down the hall, next to the nurse’s office. If you ever feel sad, or need help, or just want someone to talk to, you can come see me.”
“May we observe your lesson for a few minutes, Mr Goodman?” the principal asked.
“Of course,” Cyrus smiled, turning back to his class. “Does anyone know anything already about the Egyptians?” He suspected two particular students would, and sure enough, they raised their hands. “Yes, Nina?”
“They put dead people in pyramids,” she said confidently. Cyrus nodded.
“You’re absolutely right. Actually, there’s a picture of the Egyptian pyramids somewhere in this room… Can anyone see it?”
They looked frantically around the room until a girl in the back row called out, “There!” The class turned to see where she was pointing.
“Good spot, Melissa,” Cyrus nodded. “That’s what they look like, but in a couple of weeks we’ll learn all about them, and you’ll get to build your own pyramids.” Eyes widened in anticipation. “Anyone else know anything? Noah?”
“They had lots of different gods,” said the brown-haired boy in the front row eagerly.
“Well done,” smiled Cyrus. “In fact, that’s what we’ll be focusing on this week. Today we’ll head over to the computer lab – yes, I know that’s exciting, settle down,” he said, giving a knowing look to the two visitors by the door. “I’ll explain more once we’re there, but you can all choose one god to research and I’d like you to write five facts about them in your books, in your own words. You’ll just need your books and a pencil. So make sure you have those, and then line up behind…” He examined the sea of hands that had just shot up. “Mariah.” Principal Moore and Mr Kippen approached him as the class descended into animated chaos.
“Thank you, Mr Goodman, we’ll leave you in peace now.”
Cyrus chuckled. “Peace? That’ll be the day.”
The rest of the day went surprisingly well. The children worked hard, and even the ones who weren’t particularly engaged managed to complete the task Cyrus had set. All the same, after the chaos of the morning, Cyrus was more than a little relieved when the last one had waved him goodbye from the school gates. He collapsed into his desk chair, took off his glasses and rested his head in his hands.
“Tough day?” said a voice from the door. Cyrus hastily put his glasses back on.
“Oh, hi, Mr Kippen, I didn’t see you there.”
“Please, call me TJ,” the counsellor smiled.
“Sure, I’m Cyrus. TJ… is that short for anything?” Cyrus stood up, walked round and leaned against the desk.
“Just TJ,” he said. Cyrus sensed he was treading on sensitive territory and changed the subject.
“So how was your first day?”
“Oh, pretty normal, I guess,” TJ shrugged. “A couple of kids came to see me, but I suspect that was more curiosity than anything else. What about you?”
“Would you believe six things had gone dramatically wrong before I saw you this afternoon?” Cyrus said, a dry chuckle escaping his lips.
“That sounds like quite a day,” TJ said sympathetically. “I hope our visit didn’t fluster you too much.”
“Oh, not at all. I’m used to people coming and going.”
TJ hesitated a moment. “Hey, do you have plans this evening? I wondered if you wanted to grab a bite to eat.”
Cyrus retrieved his eraser from his desk drawer and began to clean the whiteboard. “I’m having dinner with some of my friends, I’m afraid.”
TJ masked his disappointment well. “Oh. That’s cool.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cyrus, and he meant it. “I’d love to, any other night, but I’m sure you understand that trying to arrange a night when four people in their twenties are all free is like a toddler trying to choreograph a Broadway show.”
TJ laughed at that. “I get it. And I’ll be holding you to that ‘any other night’ claim.” Cyrus opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “Have a good evening, Cyrus,” TJ smiled.
“You too.” With that, TJ turned and left. Cyrus sat back down at his desk, his heartbeat a little faster than usual. Did he just ask me out? He shook his head and started marking his students’ factsheets.
It took longer than he’d expected. He finished the last one, glanced at his watch, and gasped. He was almost certainly going to be late. “Typical,” he groaned as he shoved papers into his briefcase and pulled on his jacket. He had hoped to go home and change, but he could hardly worry about that now. He called out a passing farewell to the school secretary as he sped out, and within minutes was hurrying out of the parking lot onto the main road. Thank goodness he hadn’t seen anyone else. In fact, judging the parking spaces, he reckoned almost everyone had left already.
He was surprised to see Buffy standing outside the restaurant; he had fully expected the other three to be inside and seated. “Hey, Buffy!” She turned towards him and her lips tightened.
“Where the hell have you been? I was getting worried!” She gave him a hug and then punched him lightly on the arm.
“I got carried away marking,” he said. “Sorry. Are Andi and Jonah not here yet?”
“No,” she said. “Andi texted me, she’s on her way, but I haven’t heard from Jonah.” She shivered. “Let’s go in, it’s freezing. They might let me have a table for four now it’s not just me.” Cyrus gave her another apologetic grimace as they headed inside. They stood at the welcome table and a young waiter came over, his customer-service smile stretched across his face.
“Can I help?”
“I have a reservation under the name of Goodman,” said Cyrus.
Buffy glared at him. “I stood in the cold for ten minutes when you’d booked a table?” Cyrus grinned nervously and pulled out his card. The waiter glanced down his list and tapped something in the computer.
“Yes, sir. Table for four, is it?”
“Yes, please.”
“There are two more coming,” put in Buffy. Suddenly a blast of cold air filled the lobby and Andi tumbled in.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“She’s with us,” said Buffy. “Now there’s one more coming.” The waiter gave a single nod and showed them to a table.
“I’ll fetch you some menus,” said the waiter, and wandered off.
“So, how’s the new job?” Cyrus asked. Andi had recently taken a part-time position in an art gallery in the next town over, showing people around and running crafting seminars for visitors and school groups.
“Oh, it’s so much fun,” she beamed. “This afternoon I planned a junk modelling workshop for this weekend, and showed a group of boarding school kids around.”
“You’ve really landed on your feet,” said Buffy enviously. “Can you believe I’m only twenty-four and I’m already counting down the days until I retire?” Cyrus and Andi laughed, and at that moment Jonah virtually crash-landed on the seat next to Cyrus. The waiter, who had just returned with an armful of menus, gave a tiny, disapproving frown.
“Hey, guys,” Jonah said cheerfully. “What’s up?”
“Hi,” said Cyrus, smiling. He couldn’t help it. His mortifying middle-school crush on Jonah might be a thing of the past, but Jonah’s consistently optimistic energy was infectious. “Buffy’s telling us how she hates her job.”
Jonah offered her a sympathetic look as he took a menu. “Is it that bad?”
“Do you know how hard it is to defend someone that you know is guilty?” she said, shaking her head. “Like, I know I’m just observing this case, but it’s so frustrating. Both me and my boss know that this guy should be in the slammer, but we have to use every shard of evidence we have to prove he didn’t do it.”
“Why did your boss take the case?” said Andi. “Surely if she knows he committed the crime…” Buffy shook her head.
“Doesn’t work like that,” she said gloomily. “If we were independent attorneys, it’d be different.”
“But since your company assigns the cases, you have to take what you’re given?” Jonah said. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “What? I know stuff too, y’know.”
“Well… yes, basically. It sucks,” said Buffy.
“Anyway, shall we order?” said Cyrus hastily, waving the waiter over before Buffy could start up again.
“Oh, Cyrus!” Andi hissed in exaggerated exasperation. “I haven’t chosen!”
“Well, then hurry up,” he muttered back, smirking. “I’ll have the beef calzone, please, and a Sprite.”
The waiter nodded. “And I’ll have the seafood ravioli,” said Buffy after a moment’s thought. “With a glass of today’s white wine.” He inspected her driver’s licence and nodded.
“Pasta carbonara and a Sprite, please,” said Jonah. Andi’s eyes widened in panic.
“Can we get a jug of iced water for the table?” said Cyrus to give her more time. The waiter jotted it down.
“Uh… the vegetarian lasagne,” said Andi hesitantly. “And… an orange juice?”
The waiter nodded. “Anything else?” The four of them shook their heads. The waiter took their menus back and marched off again. Andi rested her head on her placemat and groaned.
“That was a fiasco,” she muttered. Jonah grinned.
“How’s the school, Cy-Guy?” he asked. Andi looked back up again.
“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” he said, shaking his head. He recounted the day’s mishaps. “That said,” he said when he was done, “I met the new guidance counsellor, and he’s very nice.” Andi rested her head on her fist and wiggled her eyebrows at him.
“‘Very nice’, is he?” she said, her eyes twinkling. Buffy and Jonah were looking equally interested.
“Oh, shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like that. We just talked, and he asked if I had dinner plans.”
“He asked you on a date on the first meeting?” said Buffy in surprise. “Gosh.” The waiter returned with their drinks and started passing them out.
“He did not ask me on a date,” Cyrus blustered, sipping his Sprite to avoid making eye contact.
“What’s his name?” Jonah asked.
“His name is TJ. Can we not talk about this? You know I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
“Fine,” said Buffy, raising her hands. “We won’t push you.” Cyrus glared at her, but he was saved by Andi’s phone ringing. She pulled out her phone and shot them an apologetic look.
“It’s Amber. Sorry, guys.” She pressed the green button. “Hi, sweetie, everything okay?” She paused. “No, it’s okay, I have a minute.” Another pause. “Oh, I moved it. It’s in the cabinet over the toilet.” Buffy and Cyrus exchanged a look. “Enjoy. Love you too. See you later.”
“Dare we ask?” said Buffy, her eyebrows practically in her hair. Andi blushed and elbowed her.
“Shut up! She wanted bubble bath.”
“Well, anyway,” said Jonah, blinking several times. “I have news.”
“Wait,” said Cyrus quickly, holding up a hand. “What do we think, girls? I’m calling new romantic interest.”
“I’ll take hitting someone with his car,” said Buffy.
“Well, I guess that leaves me with a trip to the ER,” Andi shrugged.
“You guys are so rude,” Jonah huffed. He took out his phone and pulled up Instagram. “Anyway, this is Lucas.”
“I win,” said Cyrus. Andi and Buffy gave him a tiny round of applause, then Buffy spoke.
“Lucas, huh? What happened to Charlotte?”
Jonah bit his lip. “That didn’t work out.”
“You really are the biggest disaster I have ever met,” said Andi, sipping her orange juice.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jonah said with a firm nod.
“Shall I say it differently?” said Andi, smiling.
“Claws away, please,” said Buffy delicately. Ninety-five percent of the time, Andi and Jonah got along just fine, but occasionally they would row, and once went for several weeks without speaking. It took some refereeing from time to time. On this occasion, though, they seemed to just be poking fun, which was fortunate.
Presently the waiter arrived with their meals, and chatter died down a little as they tucked into their food. Jonah told them more about this new potential boyfriend – it turned out to be quite a dramatic story. Lucas was a single dad a couple of years older than them, whom Jonah had met some months ago when he had come to pick up his daughter from the swimming pool at the gym where Jonah worked. They had chatted since, and developed a friendship. Jonah had broken up with his (then) girlfriend, and had started to develop feelings for Lucas. They had now been on two dates, and were planning the third. By the time he had concluded his story, the other three had independently concluded that they would not make it any further than a fourth date before one of them ended it. Jonah never had quite grown out of his commitment issues. Andi asked Buffy about Marty, and Buffy smiled, embarrassed. They had reconnected a few months prior after about ten years, and had hit it off, and the other three were thrilled to hear that the two were now official. They spent nearly another hour at the restaurant, catching up with each other’s news and putting the world to rights. When Cyrus started to yawn, they got the check and left what they owed – plus a tip – on the table. Outside the restaurant, they hugged each other goodbye and promised not to leave it so long before meeting up again.
Cyrus wandered off towards where he’d parked his car, and after the evening’s noisy chatting, the empty street seemed very quiet. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shivered. He was pleased that the others were okay. So what if they were all dating? Good for them, he thought, smiling. He was glad to be alone. He preferred it, a lot of the time, particularly after a long day at school. He had his students, his colleagues, his various parents, and his friends. What else did he need, anyway?