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Twelve down, one to go.
Only five more minutes of torture and you’re out of here Nix.
That was the current thought flashing through Lewis Nixon’s mind as he approaches Professor Winters’ table in the grand auditorium hall.
His footsteps echo on the heavy marble tile and he tries to shake off the weariness and dread of remembering all the times he was dragged through parent-teacher meetings as a child. They always ended up with disappointing eyes from both sides of the table. Regardless of how his teachers used to word it, one thing Lewis knew with full certainty going into those conferences with his parents is that he was inevitably going to leave feeling an inch shorter.
Reminding himself that he’s an adult now and that teachers can’t hurt him, Lew shoots a glance over a shoulder towards Celine and is glad to see her laughing with her friends at the juice table. He tugs at his stiff collar and refocuses on to the task at hand, having to get through another conversation about his daughter’s academic performance, only this time with a teacher far too attractive to be stuck in an old manor school like this.
It’s be a quick chat, you'll be out before you know it, just stay calm remember.
Only Lew was already a hundred ways from calm after to being dragged through it all week at work, held-up in commuter traffic and having to sit through a dozen prior parent-teacher meetings all telling him the same thing:
“Celine is a wonderful student, Mr Nixon and she has the potential to be the very best. Besides, with the hugely inflated fees we’re raking in from you every year, Celine is most definitely on the path to success. Now toodeloo, we look forward to seeing you next year.”
It wasn't his decision to send Celine to such a stuffy school. Lew didn’t care one bit about the stained glass windows adorning the school chapel, the fancy meals or the Latin classes. He felt suffocated walking through the winding cloisters adorning the courtyard outside the auditorium.
The charms of the private education weren’t lost on him, but his own experience in these magisterial buildings led to a rather joyless childhood, something he wanted to avoid at all cost for Celine. They reeked of loneliness and discipline.
But Lew remembered the look in his daughter’s eyes when her grandfather took her on a tour of the place. He could see her becoming entranced with the promise of surrounding acres of green space, tracing the spines of original sources of literature in the imposing library, and having visions of playing on the lacrosse team. Celine went home that afternoon daydreaming of the Renaissance portraits adorning the halls and corridors and pictured learning in the middle of all that history.
While Lew certainly found the establishment pretentious and transparent, he knew he would do anything for Celine and found himself giving in to Stanhope’s desire sending her to the best (see most expensive) school in the state.
After the divorce, it was agreed that Cathy would normally deal with these kinds of things, but since she was away travelling for work, the reminder of joint-custody kicked in and the school required one parent attend.
Celine was seventeen now and in fairness, having spoken with most of her teachers it sounded like she was developing well and even excelling in some areas.
Which brings Lewis back to the present - the Greek god of a man (as Nix affectionately names him in that moment) was now standing from his desk, highlighting his lithe frame in a gorgeous cut of an impeccably tailored navy suit. His hand was extended as he introduced himself as Richard Winters; Celine’s history teacher.
Lew firmly returns the handshake with a polite smile and eases himself into the chair across from the professor without breaking eye contact. These things are never comfortable for Lewis to sit through, he is used to feeling fidgety and restless after not too long. He supposes it's a reflection on the education he received as a child that he still finds lectures insufferable and zones out of any serious conversation after about six seconds. Yet something about Winters strikes as special, something that makes him stand out from the rest, Lew thinks. As oppose to exuding that typical air of pompousness academia carries, Winters radiates a calm confidence that at once attracts and fascinates – plus the bright copper hair certainly helps him stand out as well.
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Nixon. And I must say even more so teaching Celine this past semester. I don't know how much she's told you about her history classes, but she has a real knack and tenacity for the subject.” Winters speaks with his hands, Nix finds it endearing.
"I've seen her confidence grow in just a few weeks and her most recent project on Allied liberation of Holland is one of the most thoughtful and original I've seen."
Lew feels a flicker of pride that maybe this floity-toity education was paying off, but quickly chalks it off as lip-service. He lets the next few minutes fly by over his head and tries not to let his head fall on the desk with a swirling line of zzzzz circling his crown.
Professor Winters is a new addition to the faculty, and by the speech given by Headmaster Sink at the start of the academic year, an esteemed appointment. The man is apparently flawless; he is perfectly composed and whilst speaking with the confidence of a commanding officer he never comes across as imperious or vain.
Celine never showed much interest in the humanities subjects until Winters turned up. He was apparently one of the few who were able to teach without relying on textbooks and more so trusted students creativity to deliver individual projects over disciplinary tests. He must be some teacher to have Celine so interested in his subject. Unlike Lew at her age, she used to seem much more interested in science and athletics, something she shared more in common with her mother. Nix was quietly glad to hear she was taking a liking to history and that maybe soon she’d be asking him for his thoughts on Russian Revolution or the Napoleonic Wars.
“Thank you, that's very encouraging to hear”, Lew replies, eyes drifting towards the exit. He's not sure how much longer he can sit here, he feels the sudden need for fresh air and searches for an escape in the conversation.
“Actually if you have a moment, I was interested in learning where Celine came up with the idea about the paratroopers. She mentioned you had a part to play in the inspiration.”
Lew's eyes snap back to attention and he notices a flicker of genuine curiosity in Winters’ eyes stemming amongst the deep blue and grey of his irises.
Lew clears his throat, he considers telling the abridged version in which he simply credits putting on a documentary about World War II, but feels encouraged by Winters’ patience. “Um, well it's a bit of a long story actually,” he takes a deep breath and thinks what the hell, “I took Celine on a trip around Europe over summer to learn about real culture and we stopped off at the Overloon Museum to escape the rain one afternoon. I have always had a fascination with military intelligence but reading about the field strategies some of these guys came up with…”
Before he knows it, Lew has spent the better part of twenty minutes with Winters regaling tales of Eindhoven and World War Two strategy and quirky history facts he thought no one else on the planet would care about, but Winters is smiling and chuckling and even offering up his thoughts about the flawed intelligence leading up to the Allied approach.
“Oh c'mon, you've got to admit that the line about ‘old men and children’ is laughable.”
Nix guffaws, “Easy for you to say Mr History-teacher, information gathering is a very difficult skill to master. Even professionals can make the occasional mistake.”
Winters simply raises an eyebrow, “It's professor actually.” And that's all it takes for the pair of them to burst into laughter.
He feels flushed; Lewis is happy and he feels invincible. Hell, he even feels those damn butterflies - the likes of which are described in Celine's teenage werewolf-ghoul-vampire-pumpkin fantasy books. Alarm bells are ringing in part of his brain that hasn’t been active for a while.
Suddenly, a lady to Lewis’ side clears her throat and he sees the line of parents that formed behind his seat after realising how long he's spent sat across from possibly the most exciting man he's met in his life.
He casts a glance over to Celine as well to find her still amusing herself with her friends at the moment. He thinks about how late it is must be getting for her and dinner ideas at the drive-thru on the way home start constructing themselves.
Lew stands and begins to make apologies for taking up so much of Winters' time when an offer arises. “Wait,” Winters holds his attention for a second longer, “we have a school trip coming up.”
“What?”
“We, um, the faculty I mean, is planning a trip to National World War Two Museum and we need chaperones if you wanted to come along. They have a new exhibition on the paratroops which may interest you.” Winters’ cheeks look almost to be turning a rosy shade of red as he says this, but Lew chalks it up to his imagination.
“I would love to,” Lew grins as he steps around the chair, careful not to trip over his own excitement.
“Great, I’ll get the office to get in touch with the details or send something with Celine next week.”
Lewis feels overcome, “Well, I appreciate that and thank you for time this evening Professor Winters.”
They shake hands again, “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you soon,” Winters replies with his own small smile and Lew swears his heart skips a beat.