Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gregory figures he might as well do it now. It’s as good a time as any. His kids are at the gym, Janine is in her classroom teaching, and at this point, it would be more awkward if he didn’t follow through on his words from yesterday, right?

He approaches Janine’s classroom door and uses their signature knock, wondering what had gotten into him yesterday to get him here: about to spend his own limited money to buy a food he doesn’t like to impress a woman he isn’t dating. He’s half-hoping at this point that Janine won’t hear the knock over the noises of the rambunctious class, but then she opens the door, all smiles, and he can’t remember any reason why he wouldn’t want to see her.

“Hey, is this a good time to support your young entrepreneurs?” he asks, leaning his arm against the doorway in what he hopes is a casual way.

“Oh, yes!” she beams, opening the door wider and waving him into the room. “This will be perfect, we were just practicing our math. Thank you so much for doing this - it makes them so happy. And you’re sure you didn’t want to buy from your own kids?”

“Oh, uh, nah, I think with my class being a year younger, they don’t get as much fulfillment from this fundraising stuff,” he invents. Fortunately, Janine accepts this explanation without any further prying.

“Alright class, we have a new candy customer, Mr. Eddie!” Gregory waves at the kids as twenty pairs of little eyes stare curiously back at him. “Now, how much candy would you like to buy, Mr. Eddie?”

Gregory pauses - Janine was practically swooning talking about how much candy Maurice had purchased yesterday. And how much did she say he bought? ‘A bunch’ - he thinks that’s the term she used. Well, he can do that too. But how much is ‘a bunch’?

“Uh - how about a full box?”

“Really?” Janine looks to Gregory with her mouth open, eyes sparkling, and Gregory knows that he has successfully outdone ‘a bunch.’ He fully commits.

“Yeah, for sure. Gotta help these kids reach their goal.”

“That is so generous,” Janine says, briefly touching his arm. Gregory barely keeps himself from bumping up his order to two boxes. “Now class, if there are fifty candy bars in a box, and each candy bar costs one dollar, how much money does Mr. Eddie need to pay for the full box?”

“Fifty dollars!” the class chants. Gregory’s residual smile fades and if it’s possible to feel a physical pain in his wallet, he does. Fifty dollars may not be a lot to some, but it's significant to him. That's a phone bill. A tank of gas. A dinner date with Amber.

A student who Gregory believes is named Joya approaches him with an unopened box of candy and holds out her hand expectantly. Gregory reaches into his wallet and pulls out five 10-dollar bills, each one hurting like plucking an individual hair. He reluctantly hands the bills to Joya in exchange for the essentially worthless box. 

“Now what do we say?” Janine queries her class again.

“Thank you Mr. Eddie!” the little voices chant. 

“Yes, thank you Mr. Eddie,” Janine echoes, looking at Gregory with a soft smile. His heart glows, dimming the pain in his wallet to merely a dull ache. Something terrible and wonderful inside him thinks that this feeling right here is worth postponing another dinner date with Amber.

Gregory bids Janine and her class goodbye and exits the classroom. As the feather-light feeling of Janine’s presence fades, he looks down at the box in his arms.

Now what the hell is he supposed to do with all of this candy?

Chapter Text

It’s a Friday morning, only eight hours till the weekend, when Gregory realizes that this is going to be one of those long Fridays. Really, he doesn’t think he could have invented a more nightmarish start to his day. Expecting sunny, sub-five-foot Janine to appear at the door of her classroom, and instead finding himself in direct eye contact with his boss’s chest was…jarring, to say the least.

He has to take a minute, after returning to his room, to shake off the unpleasant surprise before confronting the fact that Ava’s presence means Janine’s absence. And Janine’s absence means…what, exactly? He whips out his phone while his class is still distracted and sends a quick text to Janine.

[8:38AM] Hey, are you okay? Went over to your room and found Ava subbing for your class

He knows she would do anything for her kids, and he’s pretty sure she’s never taken a day off before. His mind starts to construct images of car accidents and hospital rooms and non-working carbon monoxide detectors…is Janine tall enough to replace the batteries in those things? Does she have a good ladder?

But brainstorming worst-case scenarios won’t do any good here, he reminds himself. Ava had seemed nonchalant about it all…and that should be comforting, right? She hadn’t given Gregory any details, just dismissed him back to his classroom after he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in flirting or teaching her class in addition to his.

If Ava isn’t worried, he shouldn’t be either.

He tries not to think about the complete logical fallacy in that statement.

Instead, he distracts himself by getting his kids started on a coloring project. When he checks his phone again, Janine has responded.

[8:45AM] I’m okay - just feeling super nauseous and I’m worried about my class  

[8:46AM] Wait, Ava’s subbing?! Now I feel more sick

[8:46AM] I’m gonna call her

Gregory smiles down at his phone, relieved that Janine is alive and at least well enough to be texting. His smile might also be from admiration -  though he shouldn’t be surprised that Janine’s devotion to her students endures even through her bad days. Still, someone has to remind Janine to take care of herself too. Gregory composes a text back:

[8:53AM] You should rest up. You’re more than prepared to take a day off - everything is in the sub binder, right?

Gregory is referring to the emergency binder for substitute teachers that Janine had told him about one day, months ago, when he had wandered over to her classroom with some excuse or another to talk to her. She had been excited, showing him page after page of detailed instruction, even declaring that she was going to include a video element. “I thought about when you were subbing, and I figured you could have used something like this,” she had said casually.

Gregory remembers the comment word for word, as from its original utterance, he had banked it in his mind to mull over. It was a perfectly innocent remark, but he enjoyed the implication that he had crossed her mind when he wasn't around. Maybe he had crossed her mind a couple times in the making of the binder - that thing was monstrous, after all.

[9:05AM] Yes, you remember the binder! I’ve told Ava about it. Hopefully she listens

Gregory hopes so too. He really hopes that Ava follows the binder exactly, and that her class’s troubles don’t seep outside her four walls again. If he carefully avoids another Ava run-in, he can have a calm, normal Friday, and maybe even fool himself into thinking that it’s still Janine next door. 

But Janine next door brings pleasant tones of patience and encouragement that Gregory can hear when he’s pinning up artwork on the back wall. Ava next door brings loud music that reaches him all the way at the front of his classroom, disturbs every one of his students, and causes his entire lesson to be upended. 

With more effort than he’d like to exert on a Friday, he’s able to put a pin in the music. In doing so, he also gets a peek at the disastrous teaching going on in the neighboring class. He wonders if Janine is aware of the sinking ship that is her class’s Friday, and immediately hopes that she’s not aware so she can rest and recover without working herself up. But that reminds him - he hasn’t heard from Janine in a few hours.

[11:36AM] You feeling any better? Let me know if you need anything

He doesn’t get a response for a while, giving him ample time (when he’s not teaching his class, or wrangling Ava) to imagine some more worst-case scenarios. Vomiting can easily lead to dehydration - what if she had passed out? Does anyone at Abbott have a key to her place? Could he convince her landlord to let him in?

It’s nearly the end of the school day before she puts him out of his misery.

[2:23PM] Sorry, just woke up from a nap. I am feeling a little better

Gregory types back immediately:

Good, I’ve been worried about you

But he reads it back before pressing send and realizes that’s probably coming on too strong. “I’ve been worried about you” implies he’s been thinking about her for the past several hours. Which he has, but…still, too strong. He backspaces and tries something else:

It’s been a long day without you

He reads it back. No, still too much. (Too much what? Something in the back of his mind asks. Too much truth? He shushes that voice.) Another try:

Keep getting better so I can see you on Monday

Definitely not. What is wrong with him today? This shouldn’t be so hard. He finally lands on something simple:

[2:48PM] Glad to hear it

But he decides Janine deserves a little more than that to keep her spirits up, so he adds: 

[2:49PM] Here’s something to make you feel even better - Ava has successfully given the kids their spelling test

[2:50PM] So they’re doing fine. They miss you a lot though

Gregory is just double checking that he wrote “they miss you” and not “I miss you” on the already-sent text when Janine responds: 

[2:51PM] I miss them too!

[2:51PM] Thank you for checking in today - you're the best!!

Gregory stares at his phone for a few moments, a thousand possible combinations of words circling through his mind.

Then, without replying, he puts his phone away. There’s something electric coursing through him that’s itching to text back, but he’s afraid that his rational brain won’t be given time to proofread before his fingers press send.

Actions speak louder than words anyways, right? That's what they say. And most of the time, for Gregory, actions are easier than words. With that in mind, he vows to pick up some electrolyte water to give to Janine on Monday.

He needs her. To stay hydrated. (He tries not dwell on his own pause in the middle of that thought.)

Chapter Text

“You gonna use your bleu cheese dip?” Maurice asks Gregory over a chicken wing dripping with buffalo sauce.

“Nah man, you can have it,” Gregory says, passing the little cup across the table. He’s glad Mo seems to be enjoying the wings, though he doesn’t understand how his friend can stomach three different kinds of sauces and bleu cheese all together in one meal. Gregory has ten plain wings in front of him, his normal order at a place like this. 

Gregory is the one who suggested that he and Maurice “catch up” this evening over wings, as if that’s a normal thing for them to do. Usually their hangouts consist of watching sports or going out to bars or clubs. He can’t recall the last time they met up just to chat. But Gregory can’t recall the last time he actually needed to talk to Maurice about something that wasn’t sports or internet memes.

“So, weird thing happened at work today,” Gregory starts. He deliberately waited until Maurice was a few wings into his meal before breaching the subject. “Your name came up.”

“My name?” Mo asks, his mouth full. “You got a student named Maurice? Tell him he’s destined for success.”

“Nah, I mean, your name, like, referring to you,” Gregory clarifies. “You know my co-worker, Janine, who we ran into at the club right before Christmas? She mentioned that you and her talked some more that night, like outside the club.”

Gregory hears Janine’s words again in his head: I was outside talking to his friend Maurice. No one in the room at the time seemed as interested in this detail as Gregory was. In his opinion, Clarence and Raheem had not been asking the right follow-up questions in that interview. If he were the reporter, he would have asked when? And for how long? And what did you talk about? And please tell me talking means talking and not anything else?

“Oh, yeah,” Mo confirms, putting his wing down and wiping the extra sauce off of his face with a wet wipe. “Man, she is really easy to talk to.” Something about that sentence makes Gregory’s nerves stand on edge. His brain realizes it a second after his body does - she is really easy to talk to - present tense? As in, they’re still currently talking?

“Yeah, yeah, she is,” says Gregory, consciously choosing an amicable response. “I mean, I know that. I work with her every day. How do you know that?” Gregory hopes that he sounds curious rather than accusatory.

“Because we’re talking,” Mo says, with a tone of obviousness.

“Like, texting? You got her number?”

“Texting, voice notes, the whole nine yards. I’m bringing my A-game.” Mo says this with great self-assurance, as though he’s expecting Gregory to clap him on the back and congratulate him. Gregory’s a bit taken aback it. He’s not sure whether he has become so good at suppressing his emotions that Mo has no idea he’s into Janine, or if Mo has become so good at going after what he wants that he knows and doesn’t care.

“I thought…” Gregory is careful to keep his tone light. “I thought I asked you to not pursue my co-workers.” 

“What, when you stopped me at the club?” Mo asks incredulously. “I thought you just didn’t want me messing up your night. By the time I started talking to Janine you were gone, man. Besides, all you said was that she was a ‘relationship-type.’ But I’ve been thinking, maybe a relationship is just what I need.”

Gregory feels a bit like he’s falling in slow motion. He tries to stop the fall.

“Mo…don’t pursue Janine. Please. It would be super weird for me at work if y’all start seeing each other, you know?”

“Not really,” Mo says. Maurice is like this sometimes, delivering blunt honesty in situations where most people know it’s best to politely lie. Gregory is currently finding the habit more irritating than usual. Can’t Maurice just pretend like Gregory’s explanation is valid? 

“It would - because - like, two parts of my life colliding - and like, I don’t want to hear about you getting with my co-worker…”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I don’t kiss and tell,” Maurice says, but just in that sentence Gregory is already picturing things he doesn’t want to picture. He decides to take one last attempt at persuasion, hoping to appeal to whatever code of friendship that he and Maurice might share.

“Mo, can you just…not? Can you just choose anyone but Janine, please?”

Maurice looks at him, picking up another wing.

“We’ll see what happens,” he shrugs, and takes a big bite out of the sauce-drenched wing. Gregory tries not to flinch. 

Maurice changes topics easily, clearly unperturbed by the whole discussion. While he rants about football, Gregory tries to ignore the growing resentment in his chest. 

It’s not even Maurice that's bothering him; it’s himself. It’s knowing that he could probably bring this whole thing to an end with just a few words of admitted feelings. And knowing that he won’t.

Chapter Text

Mr. Johnson [MJ] started a group chat: “Conspiracy Believers”

MJ added Barbara Howard [BH], Melissa Schemmenti [MS], Jacob Hill [JH], Gregory Eddie [GE], and Ava Coleman [AC] to the chat.

MJ: Here is the link to the article I told y’all about: “Illuminati: Sharing the Secrecy”

BH: Hello Mr. Johnson. What is this? -Barbara

JH: Group chat!! What up party people!! 🎉

JH changed the group name to “Abbott Peeps”

AC: yall got any good memes? my other group chats are dead 🪦

MS: Oh great, like we don’t get enough of each other at school

BH: Hello Melissa. -Barbara

MS: Hey Barb

GE: I think you missed adding Janine to this chat. I don’t see her in here.

GE added Janine Teagues [JT] to the chat.

AC removed JT from the chat.

AC: this is a janine-free zone gregory. dont mess it up

JH “disliked” AC’s message.

GE: Why can’t Janine be a part of this?

AC: she reacts ha-ha to every text. its so annoying

JH “ha-ha’d” AC’s message.

AC: dont test me jacob i will kick you out too

MJ: Y’all read the article yet?

MS: Hey, anybody got duct tape that I can borrow? 

BH: I have some at my desk. Can it wait till school tomorrow? -Barbara

MS: Yeah that’s fine. Thanks Barb

MS: But no more questions on that subject

AC: this is the most boring group chat ever. i expected better from yall

AC: good thing its time for my @AvaFlaaaaaaaaaav live stream

AC: see you dorks later 💅🏾

GE added Janine Teagues [JT] to the chat.

MS removed JT from the chat.

GE: Melissa, for real?

MS: Sorry Romeo, Ava’s right on this one. She ha-ha’s EVERY text

JH: You guys wanna hear my hot takes on the candidates running for city council this year?

JH: Guys??

JH: No worries, I’ll serve these piping hot takes in the teacher’s lounge tomorrow! Bring some oven mitts 🔥

Chapter Text

“Alright, that was the last lecture of the day,” Janine informs Gregory, closing her little planning notebook. “We did it!” She looks over at Gregory in the seat next to her as the other attendees start to get up and gather their things. He's been pretty glum all day, and despite the riveting content of the just-finished lecture “The Rules of Science are Meant to be Followed,” there's still no sign that his mood will be taking a turn any time soon.

“Nice,” Gregory says, though with his tone he might as well be commenting on an oil spill. “So, what now?” They get up from their seats and follow the crowd exiting the hotel conference room. 

“Now there’s a little break, and then they have this big party in the main hall. They call it ‘PECSA-Geddon.’ But we don’t have to go to that if you don’t want to.” Janine is armed with a number of suggestions to keep Gregory busy if he doesn't feel like entering into a party atmosphere. They could compare notes on the day's lectures, or preemptively prepare their lesson plans for the week, or watch a movie together in her hotel room. Hmm, maybe she should propose that last one first?

But Gregory doesn't move on from the party idea as fast as Janine thought he would.

“Do they serve alcohol there?” he asks, to Janine's surprise. She’s seen Gregory drink a beer at a work happy hour every now and then, but he’s always capped his consumption at one drink. Janine always got the impression that Gregory was drinking so no one would get onto him for not drinking, rather than drinking for the effects of the alcohol.

But then, he’s had a rough twenty-four hours. Sometimes you need the effects. 

“Yeah,” Janine confirms. “I think it’s complimentary too.”

“Let’s go to the party,” Gregory says definitively.

“Okay cool. Sounds like a plan,” Janine says. If a day full of teaching lectures didn’t lift his spirits, she personally doubts a couple of drinks will. But if it’s what he wants to do, she’s willing to give it a try. “The dress code for this part is more relaxed, by the way,” she adds, clocking Gregory’s collared shirt and cardigan. “If you wanted to change into something that’s like, not business-casual.” Janine is not sure why she feels heat rising in her face when she says this.

“Yeah sure, thanks for the heads up.” They approach the lobby elevators and slow their walk to a stop.

“So we’ll freshen up, and I’ll meet you back here in an hour?” Janine proposes.

“Sounds good,” Gregory says, though he still sounds anything but good. Janine waves goodbye as she calls the elevator and Gregory heads down the hall for the stairs, opting for additional exercise even in his melancholy state. Janine would take the stairs too, if her room was on the second floor like Gregory's. But her room is on the seventh floor, so she opts to take the elevator and not die.

When she reaches her floor, Janine keys into her hotel room, thinking that she can’t wait to plop down on her bed. But as she turns around to lock the door behind her, she comes face-to-face with herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, and stops.

She quite likes the sweater she’s wearing today, a unique brown and white striped piece. She had picked it out of her luggage this morning figuring she’d wear it all day, through the lectures and into the evening. After all, when she woke up today she was planning on skipping PECSA-Geddon in favor of the Living Classroom.

She could still wear her sweater and jeans for the evening. The outfit works in a professional setting, but it’s still cute and casual enough for the party. Plus, she’s wearing her velcro sneakers, which are very comfy. Or…she glances at her duffel bag across the room, opened wide. She could wear the other outfit that traveled with her to Allentown. 

Janine walks over to her luggage and surveys the outfit pieces strewn about the bag: a lavender dress, a red belt and some new white high-heeled boots that she bought because they made her feel like a 1970s dancing queen. It’s quite an ensemble. And it’s taking up quite a bit of room in her bag for an outfit she wasn’t even planning on wearing. Why did she do that?

If memory serves, she had thrown the outfit in her duffel a week ago, before she knew Gregory wasn’t going to come to the conference, and had simply never taken it out when she learned about his alternate weekend plans. Not that Gregory’s presence or absence influences her outfit choices. Just, since it was his first PECSA weekend, she had originally figured that Gregory would want to check out the party, so she needed a party outfit.

Janine continues to stare at the lavender dress, beginning to confuse herself with what connections she is making and trying not to make. The conference and the party and the dress and Gregory and herself...

But in any case, Gregory is here, and the outfit is here, and whether those two things are related or not, Janine deserves to feel like a dancing queen, right? She grabs the dress, belt, and boots from her bag, and goes to change into them. When she’s dressed, she takes a look in the mirror again.

The dress is a little tighter than what she’d usually wear to school, and the skirt is definitely shorter. But it’s hugging her in all the right places, and the red belt gives the outfit a fun pop of color while accentuating her waist (she loves belts for this very reason). The boots, while cute, are not as comfy as her sneakers. She knows they’re going to hurt after a few hours. But they’re so cute.

Janine twirls in front of the mirror and strikes a few poses, feeling herself. I can’t wait to see Gregory’s face when he sees me in this outfit, she thinks, and then she’s immediately bewildered by her own thought. Bewildered and betrayed. Like, what? Why would what she’s wearing have any effect on Gregory’s face? That's ridiculous. She’s just eager to cheer him up and she needs to stop making weird connections.

Janine spends the rest of her downtime trying to calm her mind. She eats a quick snack, sends a text to Jacob, and touches up her makeup. She almost never touches up her makeup on a normal day, but this is a party, and she wants her makeup to be as cute as her outfit. When she reapplies her lip gloss, she goes a shade darker than what she had on during the day. Because, party and all that. She doesn’t think of anyone specific when she puts it on.

Soon enough, it’s time to meet Gregory for PECSA-Geddon, and Janine leaves her room and comfy shoes behind to take the elevator down. When the elevator reaches the first floor, the doors slide open and the first thing that Janine sees is Gregory standing across the hallway, waiting for her. A smile definitely appears on his face as he sees her, a smile that Janine has been hunting for all day. But by the time Janine exits the elevator and walks over to where Gregory is standing, the smile is gone, and she wonders if she just imagined it. 

******

“Don’t sleep on Janine either.”

“Hell yeah - heck yes!” Janine corrects herself in case her students are around, but then remembers it’s Saturday and she’s at a conference, so they definitely aren’t around. She giggles at her mistake and takes a sip of the fresh drink that’s been placed in front of her.

“Oh wait, we -” Gregory holds up his fresh drink to clink, a tradition they started two drinks ago, Janine thinks. Wait - think, drink, clink? Those words all rhyme! Janine giggles again. She wants Gregory to be giggly too. 

“I think it’s time to stop being sad for tonight,” Janine declares, pointing her finger in the air to back up her important statement. “No more sad! Let’s have fun!”

“Are we not having fun already?” Gregory asks, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. 

“Nooo, you’ve been down on yourself!” Janine playfully taps the arm Gregory has resting on the bar and accidentally hits his bicep. It’s much harder than she expected. “Wow, that’s - good job on that.”

“Huh?”

Janine takes a few more sips of her drink and turns away from Gregory’s curious stare. Her eyes fall on something wonderful behind her. She gasps and turns back to Gregory.

“You know what we should do?” Janine places her drink in front of her, expecting it to slosh around with her clumsy placement, but finds to her surprise that it’s already empty.

“What?” 

“We should do the photo booth! Look, they’ve got props!”

“No, no, that’s gonna be a pass from me.” Gregory shakes his head while sipping his own drink through his straw. The straw lurches from side to side in the glass with his head movements.

“Please! Gregory, please? Please please please! It’ll be so fun!” Janine puts her hands together and brings them under her chin in a begging fashion similar to her second graders when they want ten more minutes of story time. She thinks it’s working, because Gregory stops sipping his drink to fully look at her and smile.

“I’ll probably regret this…but it’s too hard to say no to you,” he says. Janine beams, feeling victory pulsing in her heart. At least, she thinks that feeling is victory? It's certainly something fun.

“Yaaay! Finish that up and let’s go!” Janine points to his drink and he tosses the rest of it back obediently. They stand up from their barstools and Janine stumbles a bit, just because it’s a little higher up than she remembered. Gregory places his hands on her arms to steady her.

“You good?” he asks.

“No Gregory, I’m not good,” Janine says seriously. Well, she’s trying to pretend to be serious but she might already be smiling again. “I will not be good until I see you in that cowboy hat.” She points to the group of people currently taking their turn at the photo booth, where one person is indeed donning a bright red cowboy hat as a prop.

“Alright, but only if you wear that rainbow boa. I legit think you could pull it off.” They both laugh, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Janine thinks that Gregory was right - a full day of lectures didn’t cheer him up as much as this party did.

Was it the drinks, the music? Something about this party was finally making him smile.

Chapter Text

Gregory paces his apartment, trying to think of any other option. The likelihood of Ava coming through with her promise of Jazmine Sullivan is laughably low. There must be someone, anyone else who could give a decent performance with less than 24-hours notice for absolutely no money. Someone who is not the ex-boyfriend of the woman he is currently very interested in.

Gregory doesn’t like to think of himself as a particularly jealous person. He likes to think that maybe if Janine’s ex-boyfriend of ten years was an all-around decent guy, that he’d have no problem calling him up for a favor. But Tariq hadn’t just dated Janine - he had taken advantage of her kind and hardworking nature, left her with debt and unpaid parking tickets that nearly got her evicted from her apartment, and then had the gall to try and rekindle something with her months later.

So yeah, he doesn’t care for Tariq. But Gregory would have no problem calling up any other ex-boyfriend of Janine’s. Right?

He thinks of Maurice and frowns. Hmm…maybe he is a jealous person. Still, he can’t come up with any other option and he’s running out of time, so he finds Tariq’s phone number on an old F.A.D.E. webpage and gives him a call.

“Yo, you got Tariq.” Gregory is almost disappointed when Tariq immediately picks up. If he didn’t answer the phone, Gregory could have at least told himself that he tried, without ever needing to interact with Tariq. And without Tariq ever needing to interact with Janine.

“Hey, Tariq, this is Gregory Eddie.”

“Gregory Eddie? Are you a lawyer? ‘Cause man, all that infringement stuff is dealt with, we don’t need to bring it up no more - ”

“No, no, I’m Gregory from Abbott Elementary.” This is met with silence on the other end of the phone. “I’m a friend of Janine’s.” Silence. “You know…the talent manager?”

“Oh, talent manager! Yeah man, what’s going on? Does ‘Neen miss me?” Gregory pointedly avoids this last question and dives into his pitch.

“So listen, Abbott is in trouble. Some people are trying to turn it into a charter school, and it really puts the future of Abbott in question for both the students and teachers. So we’re putting on a festival at the school so we can get signatures to help save it. Our principal is trying to get Jazmine Sullivan to headline, but I’m thinking she might be - uh - busy. So we were wondering if you’d be available to perform instead, pro bono.”

Gregory is careful to brush past the fact that reaching out to Tariq was originally Janine’s idea. Tariq is overconfident enough; he doesn’t need any bogus signals that Janine might be interested in getting back together with him.

“Man, those little homies are my day ones. I’d do a set for them any day. But I gotta say, business has been popping recently, so I’m pretty booked…when is it?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Alright, lemme check my calendar…” Gregory is pretty sure, from the background noise, that Tariq is driving and thus not looking at any calendar, but he lets it slide. “Ah, you’re in luck, looks like I’m free.” 

“Okay, good.” Despite Gregory’s initial resistance at the idea, he finds that he’s relieved. Tariq could draw a crowd, and a crowd is just what they need to save Abbott. “Thank you Tariq. I’ll text over the details.”

“Sweet. Hey, you’re a pretty solid talent manager. Did you know most elementary schools don’t even have talent managers? I found that out the hard way when I was touring with F.A.D.E. in New York.” Gregory rolls his eyes, grateful that Tariq can’t see his face. “Oh hey, is dinner included in this gig?” Tariq adds.

Gregory considers for a moment. Tariq is in essence saving their festival, and hopefully saving their school, for exactly no payment. Maybe Gregory could buy him a gift card or something.

But then he thinks of how Tariq nearly took Janine out to Bahama Breeze last time he was in town.

“No. You should make plans to have dinner on your own.”

“Aiight, bet. Tell ‘Neen I’ll see her soon.” Gregory makes no plans to do anything of the sort.

“I’ll see you.”

“Oh wait, I think I got the beginning of a bar! Abbott on Abbott on Abbott -”

“Sounds great. Save some of that for the stage. Bye.” Gregory hangs up the phone, sighing with a strange mix of relief and apprehension. 

Tariq is coming to Abbott. Gregory invited Tariq to Abbott. And it’s gonna drive him up a wall to see Tariq interact with Janine, a circumstance which is likely unavoidable.

But Gregory knows it’s for the good of the school. Turns out he’d do anything for Abbott. Really though, he knows why that is.

Janine would do anything for Abbott, and Gregory would do anything for Janine.

Chapter Text

Gregory knocks on the door to Janine’s apartment, adopting the same knocking pattern they use on each other’s doors at school. This is his first time visiting Janine’s apartment, and he can’t entirely explain why the prospect excites him. It feels…intimate? Though maybe that’s not the right word, as tonight’s game night guests also include Jacob, Janine’s friend Erika, and Janine’s sister, visiting from Denver.

The door swings open, and Gregory is greeted by a beaming Janine wearing a light blue sweater and gray baggy pants - her casual clothes, he realizes affectionately. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he and Janine have seen each other out of their teacher-wear, but each time stands out distinctly in his mind. There was the hookah bar of course, and then the party at the teacher’s conference…

There’s something about seeing each other outside of school that seems to push Gregory to cross lines he wouldn’t dare cross at Abbott. Like the basic instinct for professionalism is left behind in the teacher’s lounge, next to Gregory’s book and Janine’s shawl, not to be carried outside of the school’s four walls.

He feels his heart rate pick up. Jacob’s gonna be here, he reminds himself in order to steady his pulse. 

“I knew it was you,” Janine smiles, standing back to let him in. “That’s our secret knock,” she says to someone over her shoulder, and Gregory notices for the first time another person in the room, sitting on the couch, who must be Janine’s sister. She looks a bit like Janine, but definitely taller, though Gregory figures that was always going to be statistically likely given Janine’s short stature. 

“Wow, original,” Janine’s sister says sarcastically as she gets up from the couch.

“Gregory, this is my sister, Ayesha,” Janine says as Ayesha approaches them by the door. “Ayesha, this is my - uh - this is Gregory. We work together at Abbott.”

“Nice to meet you.” Gregory holds out his hand politely and Ayesha shakes it. The next thing he’s supposed to say, he thinks, is “I’ve heard a lot about you,” but that just wouldn’t be true. Janine has made some passing comments about her and her sister’s rocky relationship, but hasn't provided much about Ayesha herself. He decides to jump on the only detail he knows.

“So, you live in Denver? What’s that like?” He hears the question leave his lips and hates how generic and boring it is, but he’s never been good at small talk. 

“It’s chill,” Ayesha shrugs. “Lots of hiking, so that’s cool.” 

“Nice, I like hiking,” Gregory responds truthfully.

“There’s hiking here too,” Janine interjects. “Like the Rocky steps at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. People love those.”

“That’s not hiking Janine,” Ayesha says impatiently. “That’s a jog up some stairs that people do to imitate a movie.”

“Well, either way, it’ll get you out of breath. Anyways, can I get you anything Gregory? I’ve got that new SodaStream!” Janine looks very excited at the prospect of using her new device, and fortunately for her, Gregory likes Janine more than he hates soda (which is to say…a lot).

“Sure, I’ll take a…stream of soda?” He’s not entirely sure what he’s going to get out of this machine, but he’s sure he can sip it slowly enough over the course of the night that no one should notice his distaste for it.

“Yay! Okay, I’ll whip that right up. I think. I’ve never used it before, but it should be easy...in the meantime, make yourself comfortable!” Janine gestures to the living area as a whole as she retreats to the kitchen in the back of the apartment.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” Ayesha dismisses herself almost immediately. And just like that, Gregory is left alone in the main space of Janine’s apartment. He takes a look around.

Unsurprisingly, the room he’s standing in is bright and warm. The walls are a charming white brick, but there are pops of color everywhere, from small furnishings to framed artwork to drawings that were clearly made by Abbott kids who adore Janine. There are also a surprising number of potted plants, and Gregory makes a mental note that maybe this could be a future conversation topic, or a reason for him to visit the apartment again, if she ever needs help tending to any of them…

Behind the couch, there’s a board mounted on the wall holding a number of pictures. For a second, Gregory wonders if their photo strip from PECSA weekend is there, and the thought makes his heart race - but a quick scan tells him no. It’s all pictures of people Gregory doesn’t recognize, maybe friends from childhood or college.

He wonders what actually happened to their photos from PECSA. They may have been tipsy enough that neither of them remembered to pick up the photo strip. Maybe that’s a good thing. He can’t quite remember what his face was doing at the time…what his expression in those photos might reveal…

“Okay, sooo,” comes Janine’s voice, returning to the main living area empty handed, “it turns out you need, like, flavor mixes to make soda with the SodaStream, and I don’t have those. But I could make you some carbonated water?”

“Wow, carbonated water? I didn’t know you lived in a fancy restaurant,” Gregory jokes lamely, and Janine graciously laughs. “No, don’t worry about it, I’m good.” There’s a pause in which Gregory realizes they’re alone together. Just the two of them, in their casual clothes, outside of school. That feeling that makes him want to cross lines starts to creep up in his throat.

“And uh, I really like your place,” Gregory adds. “It feels like you.” He takes a step towards Janine to close the gap between them that was feeling just a little too big. For one second, he looks into Janine’s eyes, not sure what to say next but not feeling like he can look away.

And then - knock knock knock! -  they’re interrupted by someone at the door. Janine jumps a bit at the sudden noise.

“Coming!” she says, immediately breaking Gregory’s eye contact to rush to the door. She opens it to reveal Erika, and closely behind her, Jacob. Gregory rearranges his face - he’s not sure what it was doing, but it certainly wasn’t wearing the neutral expression that he’s carefully donning now.

“Hey you!” Erika says, giving Janine a quick hug and entering the apartment. “Oh, hey Greg,” she adds in Gregory’s direction when she notices his presence. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Erika’s smirking, her tone undoubtedly insinuating.

“Oh, no, uh - I just got here…” Gregory scrambles, but fortunately Jacob is already in the apartment and speaking to the room.

“Okay everyone, I brought Drought, so I hope you’re all ready to get your strategic gameplay on!”

“I take it this is not a drinking game,” says Ayesha, who must have emerged from the bathroom during the new guests’ arrival.

“The irony of a drinking game named Drought intrigues me, but no,” confirms Jacob. “This is the award-winning indie game of the year! You’re gonna love it. And hey, nice to officially meet you Ayesha -” Jacob, Erika, and Ayesha engage in polite introductions and small talk (Gregory is slightly comforted when Jacob too, asks how Denver is), and they go to set up the game on Janine’s coffee table. 

There’s a couch and a couple of seats set up around the table. Janine sits down on the couch, and Gregory moves deliberately to take the seat next to her, but Jacob is already there, planting himself and the game down. Resisting the urge to glare at him, Gregory takes the stool on the other side of the table instead.

It doesn’t seem like he and Janine will be crossing any lines tonight. It’s game night after all, and games are for playing by the rules. In fact, that’s why board games have always appealed to Gregory. He’s good at playing by the rules.

But if he can’t bump shoulders with Janine on the couch, then he can at least spend the night stealing glances at her from across the table. Some rules are made to be broken.

Chapter Text

The drive back from Allentown has a very different vibe than the drive up - not that Jacob really notices. He’s happily describing his strategy for playing a game called Werewolf, and Janine is dutifully reacting (“Wow,” “Smart,” “Really?”) at all the right pauses. But privately, Janine’s mind is swirling faster than a washing machine on the high setting, reeling from the events of the weekend.

There are a million things that Janine should do when she gets home - she needs to unpack, shower, do laundry, and make sure her lesson plans are in order for tomorrow. But instead, when Jacob drops her off, she locks the door behind her, drops her duffel bag on the couch, and immediately fishes out her phone to text Erika. 

Janine: Omg Erika

Janine: I need your help

Janine: Something happened at the teacher’s conference and I don’t know what to do

Erika: Damn what happened?

Janine: Ahhh I don’t think I can type it!! Call me?

Erika: On it

“Heyyyy,” Janine answers her phone in a sing-songy voice, adding several unnecessary syllables to her one-word greeting.

“Spill,” Erika responds, countering Janine’s extended greeting with a lack of her own.

“Maybe we can build up to the spilling?” Janine paces her apartment, gripping her phone tightly to her ear. She imagines if she had a corded phone, like they did in 90s sitcoms, her pacing would have left her completely tangled up in the cord by now.

Janine really does want to tell Erika everything. She needs to say it out loud so the recent memory can stop circulating through her head, bouncing off the walls of her brain, preventing her from thinking of anything else. But once she says it out loud, it’s actually real. Once she says it out loud, it actually happened, and there’s no going back.

“Do you want to hear about all the cool swag I got at the conference?” Janine tries.

“Girl, I love you, but I was in the middle of a Love Island marathon and I paused it to hear this tea,” Erika lightly reprimands. “And to help you out. So you better get straight to the good stuff.”

“Okay, okay…” Janine looks up at the ceiling, still pacing, wondering how to even begin. “So you know Gregory, who I work with at Abbott?”

“Ooh, yes, the one from the hookah bar who’s both dorky and fine? Did y’all hook up?”

“Erika, no! Oh my god,” Janine says, aghast. But as she’s denying the allegation, she realizes how close to the truth it actually is. How did Erika do that with just the mention of Gregory’s name? “Well…not - not like all the way.”

“Ha, I knew it! I could tell from the first moment I met him at the hookah bar; he’s so into you,” Erika gloats, and Janine shakes her head. She knows Erika can’t see her, but she can’t resist the strong urge to shake off Erika’s words before they start to seep into the narrative that Janine is trying to control.

“Erika, no. That’s not…let me tell the whole story, please.”

“Fine,” Erika concedes. Janine takes a deep breath.

“Okay, so first of all, he wasn’t even supposed to be at the conference this weekend. He was supposed to be on a weekend getaway in the Poconos with his girlfriend. But then I ran into him on Saturday morning, checking into the conference hotel because his girlfriend - get this - broke up with him, right before their trip.”

“Ooh, this is already good.” Erika’s words are slightly muffled, obscured by a crunching sound, and Janine thinks she might literally be eating popcorn. 

“So I’m trying to be a good friend, cheering him up with a busy day of lectures, right? And then we end up going to the big party they have at the end of the night and we each have a couple drinks. Like, more than I usually drink. But they were free!”

“Hey, you don’t hear me judging. I’d go all-in on the free drinks too.”

“And we were in the middle of doing these cute photo booth pictures when I remembered that I wanted to see the Living Classroom, which is this classroom made entirely out of flowers put together by the Philadelphia Flower Show. But it was already night time, so it was definitely closed. But Gregory kinda suggested that we sneak in anyways.”

“Sexy.”

“Shut up. So we snuck into the Living Classroom and it was so gorgeous, Erika.” Janine’s words had been hastily delivered up until this point, riddled with anxiousness and stress. But she feels her words slowing down as she begins to describe the classroom. “There were real flowers everywhere, on the wall and on the ceiling and on these little desks and backpacks. It really spoke to me, to who I am as a teacher. And I know it touched Gregory too, because he has this whole history with plants and gardening.”

“Yeah, I bet it touched him,” Erika says slyly, spinning Janine’s words into an innuendo.

“Erika!” Janine chastises. But she’s almost grateful for the interruption, as she needs to brace herself for the next part. “So…okay - so there was this moment where we thought we heard people coming. And we weren’t supposed to be in there you know, so we both ducked down and were just kind of stuck there, eye to eye with each other. And I was telling him he should smell this beautiful flower that I had in my hand when he just…leaned in past the flower and kissed me.” Janine inexplicably brings her free hand over her eyes as she says these last few words. There is nothing to hide her eyes from except her own empty living room, but she thinks her body might be trying to shield itself from whatever grave consequences that may materialize now that the confession is out in the open.

“Oooh, yes Gregory,” Erika praises. Janine is too beside herself to even scold her. “Now give me the details. Was it hot?” 

“Well, he um…he had his hand on the side of my face and was pulling me into him a bit. And I was so not expecting it, so I was just like, frozen. But it was sweet.” Janine digs down deep to bring out one more detail for her friend. “And okay, fine, yes, it was hot.”

“Hell yeah. Now what happened after? Please tell me you didn’t high-five him.”

In attempting to confess her next sin as quickly as possible, the majority of Janine’s words come out as one giant nonsensical jumble.

“Sooo after he kissed me I pulledhimbackinbythelanyardandkissedhimsomemore.”

“What?”

“I pulled him back in by the lanyard and kissed him some more! ” Janine repeats more clearly, and also more loudly than she intended. Thank goodness she’s in her apartment alone.

“Janine! ” Erika gasps.

“I know!” Janine blurts. “Oh my god, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m dating Mo!”

“You weren’t thinking. That’s why I’m proud of you, girl! You finally let loose!” Erika is enthusiastically supportive, as she has been throughout the whole conversation. And while Janine is thankful for her friendship, she doesn’t really feel like the support is warranted here, in this retelling of her awful mistake. 

“Nooo, Erika, this is terrible! I can’t believe I did that!” Janine finally stops pacing and plops down on the couch next to her duffel, trying to let guilt overtake her. She deserves to feel guilt, to consider Mo.

But she can’t stop flashing back to Gregory.

“Also, wait, would you say it’s bad to high-five someone after kissing them?” Janine backtracks. “Because I did do that later.”

“Honestly, you both seem like dorks, so it probably just made him love you more.” Janine shakes her head to no one again.

“Okay, no, so after we kissed we agreed that it was totally just like, a whoops. We just got caught up with the beauty of the flowers and we were a little tipsy from the drinks and it never would have happened otherwise.”

“Mmhmm,” Erika hums doubtfully.

“I’m serious,” Janine doubles down.

“This is the same Gregory who you were grinding with at the club? Who helped you for hours with that egg project? Who you talk about all the time?”

“Yes, and it’s also the same Gregory who is best friends with Mo, who I’m dating. Erika, you should have seen Gregory’s face when we broke apart. It was so full of regret.” Janine tries to make herself sit with that memory, but her consciousness seems to want to focus on the part before that, where their faces were much closer together…

“I think the only thing he’s regretting is that he can’t have you all to himself.”

“No, no, I really don’t think so.” Janine doesn’t know how to convince Erika that she’s wrong. She just knows that it would be very dangerous to start believing that Erika is right. Even if there’s a part of her that wants to. “I…I need to go unpack and shower and…think. Thanks for letting me vent.”

“Any time, girl. Don’t think too much.” But Janine hangs up the phone and immediately starts to think. 

Not thinking was what got her into trouble, after all. And when her brain takes a break, what's left to guide her actions?

Her body? Her heart?

Psh, what do they know?

Chapter Text

Reading a book is supposed to be a universal sign for “don't talk to me” - just like wearing headphones, or talking on the phone. But Jacob either doesn't know this or doesn't care, because for the last 20 minutes, while Gregory's been attempting to read his book in the teacher's lounge, Jacob has been trying to show him magic tricks.

Really, it would make more sense for Gregory to relocate to his classroom. Everything he needs to prep for tomorrow’s science project is in there, plus it’s quieter there, with the kids already gone for the day. But he couldn’t help but notice Janine’s notebook in the teacher’s lounge, sitting at her normal spot at the table by the window. It’s the notebook where she keeps all of her lesson plans, so Gregory is pretty sure she’s gonna come pick it up before she leaves for the day.

He hasn’t had a chance to talk to Janine since early this morning, and even then, the words that were exchanged were less of a one-on-one conversation and more of a group chat with the entirety of the teacher’s lounge. He did check her classroom at the end of the day, but she wasn’t there. So despite all logic, Gregory is here, trying to read his book, waiting for Janine to come by. Because if he’s being real with himself, even a short conversation with Janine makes the difference between an average day and a good day, for him. And he wants to have a good day.

Jacob is just trying to show Gregory that he can bend a spoon with his mind (Is he practicing magic, or delusions? Gregory wonders privately) when he hears familiar sounding footsteps approaching the teacher’s lounge. His heart speeds up a bit, recognizing the footsteps a half second before his brain does.

“Hey,” he says as Janine enters the room, hoping to grab her attention before Jacob tries to show her that he can levitate or something equally absurd.

“Hey,” she says sweetly, turning towards him even as she walks over to her notebook by the window. He definitely gets the impression that she’s happy to see him too, and it gives his heart that pleasant glowing sensation. “How was your day?”

Gregory lets his book fall closed as he considers her question, not even pausing to throw in a spare piece of paper as a bookmark. He’s sure he’ll find his place again. There are other matters that require his attention right now.

“Weird,” he says as he stands up to meet Janine. “Social? Talked to Shanae about baseball. How was yours?”

“Mine was also weird,” Janine replies. Gregory is pleased that he's able keep her full attention even as Jacob is sputtering about something behind them. “Eventful. My mom was here.” Gregory is intrigued - he’s heard a lot of stories about Janine’s mom, but he can't entirely imagine what she would be like in person.

With her notebook placed in her bag, Janine looks ready to depart, but Gregory is reluctant to end the conversation so soon.

“You heading out?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she replies. “You?”

“No, but I’ll walk with you,” Gregory offers. A few months ago, Gregory might have concocted an excuse to go with this offer. He would have pretended that he left something in his car maybe, and oh, as luck would have it, that would mean he could have those couple of extra minutes to walk and talk with Janine. But now, it doesn’t feel like overstepping to simply want that time, with no other explanation attached.

“Okay,” Janine smiles, and they make their way out of the teacher’s lounge, leaving an unnecessarily noisy Jacob behind.

“So what was your mom doing here?” Gregory asks Janine as they make their way towards the stairs.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Janine sighs. “She said she missed me, but I think she really showed up because she needed money for her phone. So I did end up helping her with some of that, but not all of it. It’s like, I want to look out for her, but I need to look out for me too, you know?”

“For sure,” Gregory nods admirably. “I think that’s a tough situation, and you’re approaching it with a mature perspective.”

“Thank you,” Janine smiles at him. Gregory nearly misses a step down the stairs. “And okay, you talked to Shanae about baseball? I didn’t know you two were close!”

“We’re definitely not,” Gregory chuckles. “I was just practicing my small talk today. I’m not great at it, but it turns out Shanae’s an Orioles fan, and I can talk to anyone about the Orioles.”

“What do you mean you’re not great at small talk?” Janine says, looking genuinely baffled. “I think you’re great at all talk.”

“Mm, you’ve got a biased perspective though, ‘cause you’re so easy to talk to.” Gregory chooses not to remind Janine of all the times he’s stuck his foot in his mouth around her. If “great at all talk” is how Janine wants to perceive him, he’ll take it.

“Well, I think you’re easy to talk to,” Janine counters as they approach the front doors. “Hey - guess where I’m heading to next?” she adds happily.

“If you’re asking me to guess, I’m assuming not home?” Gregory keeps his tone light, but he’s afraid for a split second that Janine is going on a date with some other guy and expects him to be happy about it.

“Nope. I’m going to meet Barbara at Ross!” She’s bouncing on her toes at the front doors to the building. Gregory can’t help but find it ridiculously cute. He knows that Janine looks up to Barbara, and he’s sure this shopping excursion means the world to her.

“Wow - well, I won’t keep you then,” he says, even though he really wants to. “Have a great evening.”

“You too, Gregory,” Janine says. Gregory wishes he could take the sound of his name on her lips and store it in his pocket. “Thanks for walking me out.”

“Any time.” He watches as she pushes the door open and makes her way into the parking lot. He doesn’t look away until the door shuts completely, closing him off from his last sliver of Janine for the day.

Gregory finds himself humming as he makes his way back up to the teacher’s lounge. It’s time to turn his attention back to all of the stuff he was putting off, but for a few minutes, he allows himself to bask in the warmth of his conversation with Janine.

If this was how talking to everyone felt, he thinks he’d be amazing at small talk. 

Chapter Text

He’s made it to Friday afternoon, but Gregory doesn’t know if this yet counts as having survived his first week as a full-time teacher. The kids haven’t even set foot in the halls yet, after all, and he hasn’t taught a single lesson. But he has successfully made it through Development Week, and these five days have already had more ups and downs than he could have imagined. From obsessing over his curriculum plans to juggling the various struggles of his co-workers, he’s thankful that the week is coming to a close.

The final event of Development Week is a celebratory barbecue in the parking lot for the teachers. It reminds Gregory a lot of the tailgate from the beginning of the week, but thankfully, with no random Eagles fans. There are some long tables with food - barbecue catered by a local restaurant - as well as some folding chairs and tables set up around the lot for the teachers to sit down and take a breather before the real chaos of the school year begins.

Gregory doesn’t care much for barbecue food, but with his upcoming salary he’d be a fool to turn down a free meal, so he shows up to the event. He grabs a piece of cornbread and as much chicken as he can find that’s not completely smothered in sauce and takes a seat on the curb. There may have been some open chairs available, but his social battery feels completely depleted for the week. He doesn't feel much like conversing with his coworkers at a table. He’s ready to eat, get his things, and go home.

But then, he hears someone calling his name.

“Gregory! Over here, we’ve got a seat!” It’s Janine, sitting next to Jacob, smiling and waving at him, gesturing to an open chair at their table. Gregory stands up before he’s even aware he’s made a conscious decision, and walks his plate over to their table. 

Gregory thought he had done a good job of ridding Janine from his system over the summer. He could be honest enough with himself to admit that he probably had a crush on her last year, but he considered it a work crush. Someone who makes your day a little better while you’re at work, who’s nice to catch a glimpse of during the day, but after work hours, they barely cross your mind. So not having seen her at work for two months, Gregory barely thought about Janine at all. Or at least, that’s what he told himself…over and over again…all summer long…

And sure, it may have thrown him off, towards the end of the previous school year, when he found out that Janine had broken off her ten-year relationship with Tariq. Yes, he may have wondered if their shared conversations had anything to do with that. But he was already dating Taylor by that point. And he’s trying to be intentional about that relationship. Like, he really has to put a lot of effort into making sure that he likes Taylor. That’s intentionality. Right?

But on Monday of this week, when he saw Janine again for the first time in the auditorium, she gave him a small wave, his heart jumped, and he knew he was in trouble. He’s pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to feel about a work crush. He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to feel hopeful about her still being single, when he in fact, is not single. And he probably shouldn’t abandon all personal plans the moment she waves him over to her barbecue table. But here he is.

“Hey, what were you doing sitting on the ground? Come sit with us!” Janine smiles as he approaches. She’s got a rack of ribs in front of her that are bigger than her face, while Jacob’s got a plate of pulled pork. 

“Didn’t see you guys over here,” Gregory says truthfully. “I see you went with the ribs,” he adds, gesturing to her paper plate. It looks like it’s about to collapse.

“Yeah, I’m treating myself,” she says, as she picks up the rack with her hands. It’s dripping with sauce. “Kind of a rough week, you know?”

“Sing it, sister,” Jacob encourages, pointing his fork at her. “You deserve to treat yourself. It’s been a week of adjustments, but we all made it. G-man, how was the rest of your week?”

“Oh, it was better than the beginning,” Gregory replies, though he is slightly distracted by Janine taking her first large bite of the ribs. She’s using her teeth to ferociously rip the meat from the bone, much like a wolf. Gregory suppresses a smile. “Barbara convinced me to not get so tied down in the minutiae of the curriculum.”

“Ah yes, don’t want to get caught up in the Gritty details, am I right?” Jacob jokes. When Gregory just stares at him blankly, Jacob looks to Janine to share a laugh, but she is still attentively attacking her rack of ribs. “Because…you know, Gritty was here earlier this week.”

“Right,” Gregory says, stone-faced. “Well, I just wanna do a good job in my first year full-time teaching. I would hate for a whole class of first graders to fall behind because I wasn’t a good teacher.”

“You’re gonna do am-az-in’ Greg-ry,” Janine says, her voice muffled through a mouthful of rib meat. 

“I appreciate that, but please don’t choke,” Gregory laughs in response. Janine takes a big swallow of her mouthful.

“Sorry - just, these are really good ribs.” Her face is covered in sauce, and whether she’s aware of this or not, her next move is not for any sort of napkin or wet wipe, but just for a gulp of water, and then for the ribs again. 

He thinks briefly of Taylor, who only likes to eat at restaurants that look good on Instagram. When he asks her how the food was after a date, she usually responds, “it was cute,” which was not a word Gregory thought you could use for something you digest. He’s certainly not a foodie himself, so he’s tried not to let Taylor’s habits bother him. It’s fine, really.

But he can’t help but feel a certain charm by the way Janine is so fully enjoying her meal. 

“And everything’s worked out with your landlord?” Gregory asks Janine, though he’s not sure she’s in any state to answer.

“Yah!” Janine muffles, her eyes lighting up behind her ribs. This time, to Gregory’s relief, she chews and swallows before speaking further. “Jacob loaned me the money I need for right now, and I’m so so grateful.” She goes to touch Jacob’s shoulder in gratitude, but seeing the complete mess of sauce and seasoning on her hand, she seems to think better of it and retracts. “Now I’m in a place where I can really start working everything out.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Gregory smiles. Though he may not always reciprocate Jacob's energy, Gregory is appreciative of Jacob’s loyalty to Janine. “And I might not be a big help financially, but if you ever need like, someone to talk to -”

But Gregory is interrupted by a commotion at their table. In the process of ripping off another chunk of rib meat with her teeth, the bones escape Janine's grip and go flying in the other direction, knocking over an open bottle of water and promptly flooding their table. 

“Sorry!” Janine exclaims through her mouthful, as they all stand up to avoid the water rushing towards their seats. 

“I’ll grab some napkins,” Jacob says hurriedly. He dashes off to retrieve some, leaving Janine and Gregory standing, staring at the mess.

“So, you’re ready to attack the school year, huh?” Gregory teases as he looks over to Janine. She looks down with a small smile.

“I know,” she says, with a tone of slight embarrassment. “I need to tone it down.”

“No, not at all - your tone is - perfect,” Gregory stumbles, wondering how he has managed to say something that doesn't make sense and something that might be too much at the same time. He remains awkwardly staring forward at the table, not daring to check on Janine's expression until Jacob returns with the napkins a few moments later.

“Tried not to grab too many - I started thinking about trees. But this should be enough to dry our seats.” With Jacob’s supply, they manage to dry up the large pools of water, but everything is still a little damp. Gregory thinks that this is probably his cue to go. He’s had about as much barbecue-flavored chicken as he can stomach anyways.

“Well, I’m gonna head out I think,” Gregory says to Janine and Jacob at the trash cans once they’ve disposed of their soggy napkins. “I guess I’ll see y’all Monday.”

“Aww, already?” Janine says, disappointed. Gregory tries not to let this put a smile on his face.

“See you then, full-time colleague!” Jacob replies joyfully. Gregory is turning to go when he suddenly hears his name again, with urgency.

“Gregory,” Janine says, reaching her arm out to grab his shoulder and turn him around. Gregory obliges immediately and turns back towards her. Jacob has already started walking back towards the tables, so it’s just the two of them.

“In case I don’t see you before it all starts on Monday, I wanted to say this: you’re already a great teacher because you already care about your students. That’s what matters most.” Gregory smiles at her and nods, trying to find a meaningful response but coming up empty. Janine continues, “And if you need anything, I’m right next door.” 

“Well, thank you,” Gregory manages. “And you are way too generous for a woman who nearly lost her apartment and her car this week.” He’s joking with her, but hoping that he’s not hitting too close to home. Janine gives a sigh of resigned acceptance.

“You’re right. I’m gonna need some more ribs.”

Chapter Text

“Hey,” comes a familiar voice, and without even looking up, Gregory knows exactly who it is and precisely the kind of smile she’s wearing.

“Morning,” Gregory replies happily. He does look up then, not to confirm what he knows is true, but because what he’s looking up at is much easier on his eyes than the lesson plan he’s been looking down at.

Gregory’s sitting at his usual table - what used to be their usual table - in the teacher’s lounge. The room is pretty sparse, but it’s still early. He’d decided it was a good day to be early. In case someone else was also here early.

“You’re here all week?” Gregory asks, to confirm his suspicions.

“Yep,” Janine affirms. “Gotta oversee the library program while it gets up and going. You want a sneak peek?”

“Uh, yeah, absolutely,” Gregory replies, immediately closing his notebook and standing up. Janine beams in response to his enthusiasm. She hadn’t even moved to sit down, he realizes. She came to find him, to fetch him from the teacher’s lounge, just for this.

Gregory drops his notebook off in his classroom and follows Janine to the library, where she personally introduces him to Ms. Inez, the new librarian. 

“Glad to have you here,” Gregory says to the woman, executing an earnest handshake. “Abbott’s long overdue for a program like this. I’m excited to see the changes you bring.” 

“Well, I am very happy to be here,” Ms. Inez responds. “And you might find that some of those changes are already in progress.” She gestures to the bookshelves with a mischievous glisten in her eyes. Gregory interprets this as an invitation to take a closer look, and steps down an aisle of shelves.

Fresh white labels with little black numbers decorate every narrow book that he can see. And what’s more, they’re organized. All of the books on the current shelf he’s examining are in the 300s, and they’re increasing in numerical order. Gregory notes one - 361.4 - and finds that it belongs to a book about teamwork: a specific and accurate implementation of the Dewey Decimal Classification. He feels an immense satisfaction, like when he slots the final piece into a jigsaw puzzle to complete the picture.

“Okay, you already relabeled the social sciences?” Gregory asks Ms. Inez as he re-emerges from the shelves. She does a little dance in affirmation and laughs with Janine, who also looks delighted. “I thought you would use the abridged DDC, but this classification is just so thorough. Janine, have you seen this yet?” He wants to ensure Janine knows how big of a deal this is. How her program is already making such a difference.

“Yes, yes,” Janine grins. But he’s not sure that she completely understands how much this means to him, so he fetches his wallet out of his back pocket and removes the most valuable item in there.

“I actually have my very first library card,” Gregory says as he hands it over to Ms. Inez so she can see. “I got the librarian from my local branch to sign it.”

“Aww, wow,” Janine fawns. “You are very passionate about libraries.” Now she’s starting to get it.

“I just love how organized everything is,” Gregory raves. “Last week it took me two hours to find a book on time management.” It isn’t until he says it out loud that he realizes the irony in his anecdote.

“Well, things are gonna be much easier for you to find now,” Ms. Inez says. “Excuse me for a second.” She steps away from their little group to go take care of something, and despite their “sneak peek” with the librarian being over, Janine makes no move to leave. So Gregory doesn’t either. Since starting her fellowship, time with Janine has been scarce, and Gregory has learned to take advantage of every moment he has with her.

“Thank you for making my morning,” he says to Janine sincerely. He’s talking about the sneak peek of the library program, not the time he’s gotten to spend with her. Just for the record. 

“I gotta say Gregory, I thought you would be a fan of this program, but your interest is definitely exceeding my expectations,” Janine assesses. “That’s really your very first library card?”

“It really is. Wanna see?” Gregory asks Janine, holding up the card that Ms. Inez returned to him. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he feels like he can hear his friends from high school laughing at him. You’re trying to pick up a girl by showing her your library card? the voices say with ridicule.

Despite what seems to be popular opinion, Gregory does have some game. He knows libraries don’t typically make women swoon, and he would not be showing off his signed library card to just anyone. But Janine has that special something that makes him completely unashamed of even his most lame interests. She is pro-radish, pro-soil, pro-library. Pro-Gregory.

And besides, he’s not trying to flirt. He’s just trying to prolong his conversation with his very good friend.

Janine peers at the card in his hands. “What’s the librarian’s name? Does that say Jane…something?”

“Joan Richardson,” Gregory corrects, pointing at the signature. “Fun fact: I actually lost this card for like a month in high school.”

“What!” Janine reacts, fully invested.

“Yeah. I thought it was truly gone forever, so I got a new card and I went and found Mrs. Richardson, who had already retired, to get her to sign it again. But then I ended up finding this one, the original.” He hands it over to Janine so she can examine it more closely. “It was at the bottom of my backpack the whole time. I’m much more careful with it now.”

Gregory’s not sure he’s told this story to anyone in his adulthood. He’s not sure he’s met very many people who would appreciate it.

“That is really sweet.” Janine’s eyes flick up to look at him, then back down at the card. She gives it one more appreciative regard before returning it. “So you keep this in your wallet all the time?”

“Yeah,” Gregory nods as he returns the card safely back to the interior pocket of his wallet where it lives. “I recognize it's irrational. But the library has always been a safe space for me, you know? A place where everything is…in its place.”

“I get that,” Janine says. Of course she does. “And you’re not alone in that, either. Look -” she pokes the side of his arm and points with the same finger, towards the library desk where Ms. Inez is helping Barbara check out some books. They seem to be chatting pleasantly, wearing grateful smiles.

“Aww, Barbara has wanted this for so long,” Janine gushes. “Look how happy she is.” Actually, upon closer observation, Gregory thinks the smile Barbara is currently holding might be one of her forced smiles - the kind she applies like makeup and wears like jewelry. But then again, he might be wrong, so he’s not about to suggest this possibility to Janine. He knows that even now, when Janine technically holds a higher position than Barbara, she is still heavily influenced by the older woman’s opinion.

“It’s pretty incredible what a difference you’ve made in - what, six months over at the district?” Gregory redirects, hoping to remind Janine of her influence beyond the one teacher she most admires. “Turns out all they needed to actually get stuff done was a Janine Teagues on their team.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been as much change as I’ve wanted,” Janine says humbly. “Honestly, I have more sympathy for these district guys now. There’s so much process involved in everything, so much red tape. But I mean - yeah, I’m excited about this one.” She grins, then lets her smile fall as she sighs. “I wish I had a class to take to the library today.”

As pleased as Gregory is about the positive changes Janine is making at a district level, he can’t help but grab hold of this last sentence like a lifesaver. She wishes she had a class.

He’s found himself doing this recently, grabbing hold of hints like these that Janine still misses teaching. Because of course, he still misses Janine. And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that a part of him was scared. Scared that the district people would wake up and realize what they had with Janine. Because once they realized what they had, they’d never want to let her go.

“You can tag along with my class,” Gregory offers. “We’re scheduled for library time today.”

“Ugh, I wish - but I’m drowning in emails and I need to make sure I get to those today,” Janine grumbles, genuinely apologetic. “Is it cool if I check in with you later though, to talk about how it all goes over with your class?”

“Absolutely,” Gregory confirms, trying not to look too disproportionately happy that he gets more established Janine-time today. He works to set his face at ‘just happy enough.’ “Come find me, any time.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna interrupt you if you're teaching something important.”

“Oh, well don’t come after lunch then. You’ll interrupt my flat earth lecture,” Gregory jokes.

“Stop,” Janine laughs. “Don’t remind me of that guy!”

“You mean I shouldn’t speak of our school’s namesake?” Gregory asks, mock-offended.

“You and I both know he’s not even the namesake; he’s the great-great-grandson of the namesake. Who was racist. Don’t you have a class to get to, Gregory?” He does. But he really doesn’t want this part of his morning to come to an end. 

Regardless, Ava’s in the library now, and it’s only a matter of time before she throws a comment, be it derogatory or insinuating, towards himself, or Janine, or both of them together. So it probably is time for him to leave.

“I guess so,” Gregory concedes with a smirk. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“See you soon,” Janine replies. Gregory feels light, like he could walk on a pathway of clouds out of the library and into his classroom.

If only “see you soon” was always her reply, always the truth. But for right now, he’ll take it. 

Chapter Text

The first time the idea of a parting gift pops into Gregory’s head, he shakes it off, quite sure that the thought did not originate from his brain, but from a less rational organ like his heart. His brain tells him that parting gifts are for people who are leaving, and Janine is not. She may have accepted a full-time position at the district, but it’s not like she’s going anywhere. She’s not leaving Pennsylvania, or Philly, or even Abbott, technically. Because technically, she left Abbott months ago. It’s just more…permanent, now.

Nevertheless, when Jacob asks Gregory to deliver his own parting gift for Janine, Gregory revisits the whole idea. Maybe a gift makes sense. As much as he’s trying not to make this whole situation a big deal for himself (people change jobs all the time!), it’s unquestionably a big deal for Janine. It’s a career move, an accomplishment. It could be nice to get her something, if not to say goodbye, then to say congrats. And if he’s worried about the consequences of letting his heart take the lead, he reasons that whatever gift he comes up with can’t possibly be more over-the-top than Jacob’s comically large, memorial-esque self portrait.

And so, Gregory considers possible gifts. He pictures Janine sitting in her office, typing and smiling and humming, coming up with programs to change Philadelphia public schools for the better. He hasn’t seen her office yet, but he imagines colorful little desk trinkets and kids’ artwork on the walls, similar to her desk at Abbott and her living room in her apartment.

Suddenly, involuntarily, Gregory’s heart aches. In the same second, he tells it to calm down. There’s no need for that. He’s still going to be able to text Janine (if her texting frequency doesn’t continue its downward trajectory) and meet up with her at Rubenstein’s (if she’s not working late) and even see her around Abbott (if she doesn’t morph into another faceless shadow behind “The District” moniker…)

So, right. Gift. What is her imaginary desk missing? What about something green, something organic, something with life? All offices need a good plant. Yes, that would be perfect. Thoughtful, but not too personal. And if Janine associates plants with Gregory, if she thinks of him every time she tends to it, then that would just be an unintended consequence. Though maybe, truthfully, he’s beginning to see reason behind Jacob’s ridiculous gift.

Gregory arrives at his favorite garden store the next day after work, not entirely sure what he’s looking for. A plant that’s small enough to fit on a desk, he supposes, but otherwise, his options are wide open. He browses aisles, passing leafy plants and flowery plants, succulents and mini cacti and venus flytraps, nothing catching his eye - until he sees a plant that has pink, spotted leaves and he stops short. It stands out in a way that makes him smile, and reminds him fondly of the clashes of colors and patterns in Janine’s wardrobe. 

The plant has a tag that includes the price, care instructions, and something else on the back - a description:

Polka Dot Plant. A playful and captivating houseplant that symbolizes joy, creativity, and the power of embracing life's little surprises.

A sense of kismet washes over Gregory, and he knows immediately he’s found what he’s looking for. “Playful”? “Joy”? “Creativity”? (Not to mention “captivating”? Yeah, no. He won’t mention that one.) He’s not sure he could have chosen a better plant to represent Janine if he wrote the description himself. And he knows Janine will appreciate the idea of embracing little surprises, the unexpected, as she starts her big new position. 

He goes to pick up the plant, but pauses as he grips the brown pot. The plant itself is all-Janine, but the neutral pot is certainly not. She’d like something with color, he’s sure. Maybe he could buy a prettier pot, and then get the polka dot plant seeds, and use some of his own soil…

His memory flashes back suddenly to sitting across the table from Janine in the library, the light dim against the evening windows, her eyes sparkling as she describes how she misses Abbott. “Our dirt has a certain…Janine sais quoi,” she says with a smile, and Gregory laughs.

That’s it. As much as he doesn’t want to think of this as a parting gift, Janine is severing her official ties from Abbott, and if she missed Abbott back when her fellowship was temporary, she’s going to miss it fiercely now. He can give her that connection back to Abbott through this plant. And in a way, it can be Gregory’s connection back to Janine too.

(So much for this gift not being personal.)

Gregory leaves the garden shop with the purchase of the polka dot plant seeds and a nice blue pot, and returns to Abbott as the sun is setting behind the brick building. He fetches his gardening gloves and trowel from a cabinet in his classroom and treks out to the little patch of garden in front of the school.

Ironically, most of the soil that graces this garden was originally purchased from the very garden shop Gregory just came from. So really, he could have just bought the soil for Janine’s plant there. It’s still Abbott’s dirt, the exact same brand. But the fact that the dirt he’s about to dig up has been living here, at Abbott, feels important. Abbott changes people. He knows that, and Janine certainly knows that. This is dirt that has been changed for the better.

As Gregory shovels the soil from the cabbages’ garden bed into the small blue pot, he thinks about his Garden Goofballs. Don’t worry about girls, he had told them. I promise you, later you will have plenty of time to think about girls. This is the kind of thing he was talking about. Not that Janine falls into that category of thinking about girls, as he had made a point to close that particular chapter of their relationship. But still, it was fairly remarkable how often she had crossed his mind today. What kind of gift would Janine like…what kind of plant would she like…what kind of dirt would she like…

Maybe he should have shown Javon a little more grace when it came to Farrah and the chain. Gifts are tricky. And it’s not like Janine is just any girl, any “female” as the boys would say. She’s one of the most important people in Gregory’s life.

And she’s leaving.

No, technically, she’s not leaving, Gregory corrects himself. He’s worked through this logic. She already left. So this doesn’t have to be a big thing.

Still, as he packs down the last of the soil into the pot and buries the tiny purchased seeds, he can’t help but anticipate Janine’s reaction to the gift. She’ll definitely smile. Maybe she’ll let out a gasp, or an “aww.” Maybe she’ll cry? Should he anticipate that? Should he be prepared to comfort her…?

He shuts down this train of thought, reminding himself for the umpteenth time that this whole thing is not a big deal.

Not a big deal. That's why he's here kneeling over a patch of dirt at his workplace, hours after he should have already been home.

Okay, fine, so it's a little bit of a big deal. Or at the very least, he kind of hopes that this plant will be a little bit of a big deal to Janine.

Chapter Text

Gregory is still standing in the spot where Olivia left him by Rubenstein’s door, waiting for the bitter yet familiar feeling of rejection to wash him up and carry him away. But Jacob gets to him first.

“Hey. So, uh - you’re welcome to still come grab dinner with us,” Jacob offers. Avi hovers just behind him, smiling widely. It’s very obviously a pity invite, and while the sentiment might be sincere, Gregory can think of few things more miserable than third-wheeling a date after being (rightfully) dumped by your own. 

“Nah, I shouldn’t ruin any more of your night,” Gregory declines.

“Ruin? What do you mean? I’ve been having a great time,” Avi grins, his eyes flickering between Jacob and Gregory. The guy was a little weird. But to be fair, he was not the weirdest one in their group tonight. Gregory was the clear winner in that category.

“You’re sure?” Jacob asks. There’s concern and caution in his voice that Gregory tries to receive with gratitude and not embarrassment.

“Yeah man. Enjoy your night, really. I think I need to…ah…go home and get some sleep. Just feeling a little off tonight.” Jacob’s eyes go wide in a way that says that’s a massive understatement, but graciously, he withholds from saying this out loud.

“Alright - get home safe. We’re right over there if you change your mind,” Jacob gestures to the restaurant where they had all planned to eat. He and Avi depart, and Gregory orders a Lyft to take him home.

Well. This is not where he thought his night would end up. Heading home by 8:30, rejected by his date before they even got to eat dinner. Add another tally to the victim count of Gregory’s incompetence with the opposite sex.

Gregory’s Lyft arrives, and he climbs in, waiting for that icy feeling of rejection to fill him up now that he’s away from the hubbub of the bar. But Janine and Manny pop into his head instead.

Despite only having one beer tonight, he thinks he may have blacked out after his outburst at the table. It was all a stressful, mortifying blur. But he knows the ultimate outcome: Janine and Manny weren’t on a date. So he can stop dwelling on whatever weird, invasive feeling that took over him when he thought they were.

But really, who could blame him for thinking they were on a date? It sure looked like they were. Heat in Gregory’s belly flickers on like a gas stove, bringing his insides to a low simmer.

Like, come on, did Manny really need to transfer himself to Janine’s side of the table to show her a text thread? He could have just passed the phone over the table. You’d only do that if you really wanted to get closer to someone. That was definitely a move on Manny’s part.

And what kind of district “loose ends” were best tied up at a bar, over drinks? Gregory may have blacked out his own behavior at that table, but Janine’s and Manny’s dialogue is coming back to him. There was a claim about a laptop - but unless Manny had shoved it under the table, there was no laptop in sight, he was sure.

Gregory’s stomach is actively boiling now, just as it did in the bar.

Even if it wasn’t a date, the whole ordeal was far from being classified as a work event. The mint incident? Gregory knows what he saw. Manny didn’t just pop a mint, he popped a mint and leaned in towards Janine, way too close -

“Hey, buddy!” The Lyft driver’s impatient voice breaks through Gregory’s spiraling thoughts.

“Huh? What?” Gregory stammers from the backseat.

“I said, this is your destination, right?”

“Oh,” Gregory recomposes himself. The car hasn’t been moving for a while now, he realizes with sudden awkwardness. He looks hastily out the window - yep, that’s his apartment building. “Yeah, yeah, this is it. Sorry. Thanks. Have a good night.” Gregory scrambles out of the Lyft with the dimly comforting prospect that at least he’ll never have to see this guy again. Unlike the many others who he embarrassed himself in front of tonight.

He needs a shower. That will wash away the worst of the evening.

He mostly avoids thinking about Manny or Janine or Manny and Janine on his walk up the stairs, and even as he unlocks the door to his unit and makes his way to the bathroom. But once he turns on the shower and steps back, waiting for the water to get hot, he turns and notices his own shaving kit sitting on the bathroom countertop, and his mind annoyingly teleports straight to Manny and his stupid “cute” beard.

That was definitely a date beard. He didn’t have that beard the first time he showed up to Abbott, did he? He grew that beard after he met Janine. Manny may seem pleasant and professional, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Gregory undresses and steps into the shower, letting the too-hot water scorch his skin. It is entirely unsuccessful at cleansing his thoughts.

Everyone at their table had agreed about the beard thing, he’s pretty sure. Gregory has never been super successful at growing a full beard himself, but Janine once complimented his mustache. “Not many people could pull that off” were the words she used. But Manny has the beard and mustache look going on. He’s ahead.

Speaking of ahead, he’s taller, isn’t he? Gregory recalls Manny being just a smidge taller than him, which he never clocked as a big deal, but sometimes a few inches are a big deal to women. But to Janine? Manny would be too tall for her, wouldn’t he? It wouldn’t work, logistically. It wouldn’t make sense for her to be with anyone taller than, say, his own height.

And what about those flowers that were on Janine’s desk? From her “friends at the district”? Manny was behind that too, he has no doubts now. The flowers were nice at first glance, but looking back, they were really just a standard, nothing-special bouquet. Probably the very first option on the flower delivery website. No thought or care put into them at all.

Gregory’s out of the shower by now, getting ready for bed, but he stops as he goes to grab his toothbrush. Did he already brush his teeth? He is so ingrained in his own thoughts, he can’t remember. But he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to brush again. (Manny’s got those big shiny teeth. Maybe Janine likes those.)

Anyways, Gregory’s point to himself is, Manny’s got some appeal, and date or not, the way he was behaving with Janine tonight was way past the comfort level Gregory thought those two were at. But Manny and Janine would never work in a real relationship.

He’s too…

He’s not enough…

Gregory’s thoughts trail off here, searching for legitimate criticisms of Manny beyond being too tall and purchasing basic flowers, but he’s coming up disturbingly empty. What if Manny and Janine actually start dating, and it actually works out? He’s certainly more responsible than Tariq. And he’s got more in common with Janine than Maurice ever did. Janine and Manny probably bond over education philosophies and their love of Philadelphia…

They’ve already worked together for six months…

They probably have shared stories and inside jokes…

Gregory’s stomach churns. He never had dinner, but he’s feeling too sick to his stomach to try and eat anything now. It’s earlier than his usual bedtime, but he wants nothing more than to sleep. To plunge into unconsciousness and free himself from his own thoughts. So he turns off the lights and climbs into his bed, hoping that he will be overcome with tiredness the second his head hits the pillow.

But of course, when his head does hit the pillow, he just continues to think.

What the hell came over him tonight? Did he really stand up and shout so loud that the whole bar stopped and stared at him? He’s not usually one to make a scene, but his insides felt like they were boiling over. And when he saw Manny lean in that close to Janine’s face, his insides completely took control…

Gregory flips over onto his side, hitting his pillow forcefully in an attempt to meld it into a shape that will coax him into blissful nothingness.

But then, his thoughts wander to Janine. Not Manny and Janine, but just Janine.

After Janine rejected him at the Franklin Institute, Gregory built a fence to block out his romantic feelings for her. It was the right thing to do, to prevent himself from pining over someone who was simply not ready to be in a relationship with him. He's been maintaining that fence for a year now, and he can confirm that it feels much safer, much sturdier, to stay just friends with Janine and not risk losing her from his life in any capacity. To not risk his own heart.

Until tonight, Gregory thought the feelings-blocking fence was working pretty well. He was moving on, going on dates here and there. And he and Janine were now, if anything, closer than ever. If he loved spending time with her, if he felt his world ever-so-slightly crumble when he thought she wasn’t coming back to Abbott, that was all attributed to the fact that he cared about her a lot. As a friend.

But tonight? Could he attribute tonight to being overprotective of his close friend?

He thinks of Janine in her “freakum dress” and feels his heart flip to a faster setting. He thinks of Manny sitting very close to her in that dress and feels his stomach lurch. 

Shit. Fuck. Maybe the protective barrier he had constructed wasn’t a fence, but a dam. The rushing rapids of his feelings for Janine have been building up behind it all this time, and tonight the water broke through, with spectacular consequences.

Oh god, he really embarrassed himself tonight, didn’t he? He vaguely recalls Jacob trying to stop him, both verbally and physically. If Jacob was telling him to settle down, he must have been really bad. He hopes he didn’t actually ruin Jacob’s date.

And poor - what was her name? Shit. Olivia. She deserved better.

And still, still, his thoughts boomerang back to Janine. Gregory hopes she isn’t upset with him for his insane behavior. He truly hopes the rest of her night is going better.

But he also hopes there aren’t too many guys at the hookah bar tonight.

Gregory comes dangerously close to dwelling on that thought, but saves himself by fast-forwarding his dread to tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning, when tonight’s actions will look even more unhinged as they’re held up against the cold light of day. Tomorrow morning, when he will have to explain himself to Jacob, even though he can barely explain himself to himself.

Tomorrow morning, when he gets to see Janine again.

Gregory made a giant fool out of himself in front of Janine tonight, and yet, his heart can’t help but look forward to tomorrow morning, when he gets to see her eyes and her smile and bask in her warmth and engage in her conversation.

Gregory violently flips himself over to his other side. What is wrong with him?

The feelings coursing through him are simultaneously sickening and addicting. He’s experienced jealousy before. He’s caught romantic feelings before. But god, never like this.

It’s agonizing.

It’s definitely, definitely, love.

Gregory grabs his pillow out from under him and shoves it over his face. He tries to yell into it, but it just comes out muffled and sad.

“Fuuuuck.”

Chapter Text

“Hey hey! Ready to get mothered?” Jacob greets Janine outside of Rubenstein’s on Mother’s Day morning. Janine beams, unable to contain her excitement. Attending drag brunch with her friends easily trumps any Mother’s Day she “celebrated” as a kid.

“Oh, I am ready to be smothered in mothers,” Janine quips. Jacob’s smile falters as he digests this sentence. Janine’s does the same as she listens to the words in her head again.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t -” Jacob starts.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Janine agrees soberly. “Anyways, shall we go in and get a table? Erika will be late, I’m sure.” The Brunchy Bunch is nothing if not consistent: Janine is always early, Jacob is generally on time, and Erika is usually ten to thirty minutes late.

“Let’s do it,” Jacob agrees. They walk into the bar together and are immediately hit by a wall of upbeat music and happy chatter. There’s a makeshift stage in the corner accentuated with a gold foil curtain, and several drag queens are walking the floor, navigating the crowd with an elegance and confidence that Janine hopes she can absorb while she eats brunch. It’s altogether a very different scene compared to the last time she was here.

“I haven’t been to Rubenstein’s since I ran into you and Gregory here the other week,” Janine says to Jacob as they’re seated at a table. That night was also crowded, but darker - different vibes. But then again, maybe it was just Gregory who was giving off different vibes that night.

“Oh yeah. That was…a funny night,” Jacob says. He’s smiling, but looking across the room somewhere rather than at Janine.

“It was nice to see Avi,” Janine comments. It was nice to see Avi, but Janine is also purposefully demonstrating that she knows Avi’s name. Now that she’s back at Abbott and things are a little less crazy, Janine is determined to be back on top of her friendship game. She wants Jacob to know that she’s there for him – from holidays to love life updates. “Things are going well with you guys?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob responds. He’s looking her in the eyes again now. “We’re keeping it cas’ though. No labels. Just enjoying each other, you know.” 

“That’s awesome,” Janine says supportively. “Keeping it casual. I get it. Just a casual Thursday. Like, you hear about Casual Fridays, but Casual Thursdays might be even better.” Janine knows she’s about three seconds from being called out on rambling. She really should move on, or maybe just stop talking, but there’s something keeping her on the topic. She never got the chance to talk with Jacob much about that weird night, and admittedly, she does have a few outstanding questions that she’d like some answers to. “We were all pretty casual that night. Right? Or would you disagree?”

“What?” Jacob asks, looking up from his menu with confusion furrowed in his brows.

“Would you say everyone who was sitting at your table that night was like, casual?” Janine asks again. She’s not sure how much more clear she can be while still very much beating around the bush.

“Are you asking about Gregory and Olivia?” Jacob is narrowing his eyes now in what is either continued confusion or slight suspicion.

“Olivia, right, right,” Janine points her finger at Jacob with an air of just remembering. But the truth is, Janine does remember Olivia. There was no chance of that name, face, or any other details offered up that night escaping Janine’s mind. Olivia the EMT is “cool,” she’s “great,” she’s “a hero, actually” (all Gregory’s words), and not to mention, she’s very pretty (Janine’s personal assessment).

But Janine had entirely missed Jacob’s first mention of Avi (via text, back when she was still working at the district), so she thinks it’s only fair that she pretends to forget Olivia too. Plus, she has a strong desire to squash that suspicion in Jacob’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember now. Gregory did mention her name.” She pauses. But her question still hasn’t been answered. “So Gregory and Olivia are casual too?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jacob says, thinking. Now it’s Janine’s turn to furrow her brows. What does he mean, he doesn’t know?  “It was only their first date. And it was a blind date, actually – Avi works with Olivia, so he brought her, and I brought Gregory.” A quick wave of something akin to betrayal washes through Janine’s body. Jacob was the one who set Gregory up with Olivia?

That’s…great. Why wouldn’t that be great?

“Oh, so Olivia knows Avi,” Janine processes out loud. “That makes sense. Gregory mentioned she was an EMT. And a hero.” Janine looks down at her menu. Suddenly, she feels very ready for some bottomless mimosas.

“What? Gregory said that?” Jacob sounds slightly concerned. 

“Yeah, she must be amazing,” Janine says, possibly overcompensating for the unpleasant feelings that are invading her heart. “And Gregory’s amazing, of course. So I’m sure they - I mean, all of you - had a great time.”

“Uh, yeah. It was…a memorable night, for sure,” Jacob chuckles in a slightly awkward manner.

“Oh, speaking of, what was Gregory yelling about that night that made the whole bar look at him?” Janine recalls the room falling into silence for a few seconds at a loud outburst, but she didn’t immediately recognize the source. Once she turned around, she was so surprised to see Gregory, and to recognize that he was the source of the disturbance, and to see that he was on a date, that she completely forgot to ask him what he was yelling about. “Was he okay?”

“You know, I don’t remember,” Jacob says. He’s looking down at his menu again.

“You just said it was a memorable night though,” Janine points out.

“I – hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, when do you think you’ll get those DNA results back? For Kevin Hart?”

“Oh, um…” Janine is rocked by the sudden change in subject, but she tries to recall. “Melissa said it’d take four days, and that was Wednesday so…oh my god, that’d be today, wouldn’t it?”

“It would!” Jacob agrees. “Let’s order some mimosas and check those emails, girl. And perfect timing, there’s Erika.” Janine turns to see Erika at the door, waving at them with a wide smile. The combined distraction of Erika’s presence, a few mimosas, and the anticipated arrival of Kevin Hart’s DNA results are enough to completely push the double date subject out of Janine’s mind.

(At least for the duration of the brunch.)

Chapter Text

It’s May. By May, Janine usually has this down pact. She knows which shy little girl needs some extra encouragement in the morning and which rambunctious little boy needs to sit at the quiet table to get any work done. She knows who learns better with pictures, and who learns better with repeated instruction. She knows exactly how to set each of her individual students up for success.

But it’s May, it’s mid-May, and as Janine stares down at the pile of spelling quizzes on her desk, she realizes she knows none of this. She doesn’t know her class this year at all.

For instance, the little girl Janine knows as Allison has written her name at the top of her quiz paper as “Allie.” Allie? Does she like to be called Allie? Has Janine been calling her student by a name she hates? Usually, she gets nicknames identified and secured in the first month of school. But she didn’t have much time with her class in the fall, and she’s had even less time with them since she returned. Maybe Allie is a nickname that’s come to fruition over the course of the school year? Oh god, how could Janine be so selfish as to miss that important milestone?

And then there’s the quizzes themselves. Almost the entire class misspelled the present participle words where you’re supposed to drop the “e”: hiding, baking, hoping. The vast majority of them spelled the words hideing, bakeing, hopeing. A couple kids even spelled that last one hopping. 

What is going on? Janine clearly isn’t teaching this concept well enough. No one is getting it. And if they’re behind in spelling, they’re probably behind in math too. And if they’re behind in math, then maybe they’re behind in geography, and science, and everything a child should know by the end of second grade. If Janine was hopping her second graders were well-prepared for third grade, she was sorely mistaken.

Janine shifts in her chair and feels the room spin - a telltale sign that she is beginning to spiral. How could she let this happen?

The hard truth is, Janine’s kids were never laid a solid foundation this year. They had sub after sub after sub-par sub. Kids need consistency and routine for their best chance at success. They need to recognize that a responsible adult knows and cares for them - not be introduced to a new adult each week who barely has time to learn their names.

But as easy as it’d be to blame the grammarless Jessca for the situation she now finds herself in, Janine’s spiraling brain is pointing at only one scapegoat: herself. She abandoned her kids for a shiny position at the school district, where she wore blazers and pins and got paid two dollars more, only to get jostled around by red tape and paperwork and return to Abbott several months later with barely anything to show for her time there. Except for a lack of critical progress from her second graders.

Janine’s thoughts swirl like a hurricane, and tears well in her eyes. Quickly, she stands up from her desk. On top of everything else, she does not want to have to explain to her kids why their quizzes are stained with tears. She takes a few deep breaths as she backs away from her desk and steps out of her classroom.

The halls are expectantly empty. There’s still light in the sky (a small blessing from the month of May), but it’s late, and Janine knows that most of her peers will have taken their grading and lesson planning home by now. There’s no one here to advise her. To comfort.

But you know what’s always here? The coffee maker in the teacher’s lounge. Perhaps a cup of coffee will soothe her (and then it will most definitely keep her up till 3AM - but that’s a problem for later-Janine). With this half-hearted plan, Janine drags herself up the stairs to the teacher’s lounge. Predictably, it’s as empty as the halls. So it comes as a surprise when, after retrieving a mug from the cabinet, a distant humming floats into Janine’s ears.

Hm hm, hm hm hm hmm…

It’s a male voice, a familiar tune, but Janine can’t quite place the person or the song. She freezes, empty coffee mug in hand, as she strains her ears to listen. The humming transitions into soft words:

When the road looks rough ahead

And you're miles and miles from your nice warm bed…

It’s Gregory’s voice. Janine is sure of this, now that he’s singing actual words and not just humming. And his voice is carrying from the open window in the room that someone must have cracked open earlier in the day to enjoy the spring weather. 

For a wild second, Janine pictures Gregory on the ground floor outside of the window, singing up to her like they’re in an honest-to-god romance movie. But that wouldn’t make any sense, for reasons spanning from “he put a period on us” to “how would he even know I’m in the teacher’s lounge right now?”

And yet, the simple lyrics drifting into Janine’s ears seem to be exactly what she needs to hear.

You just remember what your old pal said

You've got a friend in me

Curiosity overcoming her anxiety, Janine places her empty coffee mug back in the cabinet and carefully tiptoes over to the open window. Below, she can see Gregory bending over his small garden. His gloves are on, trowel in hand, and he seems to have no awareness that Janine is eavesdropping at all. He is undoubtedly singing to what he believes is his only audience: his plants.

You've got a friend in me

You've got a friend in me

Janine stifles a giggle behind her hand. He is… such a nerd. And it makes her heart swell. He’s actually pointing at individual plants as he addresses them in the lyrics, as though each of them are truly his friend. Janine normally wouldn’t spy like this, but she’s sure that if she calls him out now, he’ll just end up being really embarrassed, so she stays quiet and lets him have his moment.

You’ve Got a Friend in Me, huh? That’s the song of choice to make plants grow big and strong and green? Truthfully, Janine is a fan of the song - she even tried to sing it for the doc crew last year when she was showing her kids Toy Story, but she couldn’t remember the words beyond the title lyrics. Gregory, meanwhile, is flawlessly transitioning into the next verse. 

If you've got troubles, I've got 'em too

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

There goes her heart, swelling again. Her consciousness knows that these are Randy Newman lyrics, but something in her amygdala allows her to believe that these are Gregory Eddie words, directed towards her specifically. Really, it doesn’t sound too far off from something Gregory might actually say to her. He has a habit of being charmingly, achingly sincere.

You just remember what your old pal said

Yeah, you've got a friend in me

With a final lyric, Gregory pats the dirt with his trowel and stands up, and Janine hastily backs away from the window before she can be detected. Even in her scramble, she’s still smiling - half from feeling cheered by the words of the song, half from reveling in Gregory’s delightful dorkiness. Leave it to Gregory to cheer her up without even realizing he's doing so. 

As Janine makes her way back down to her classroom, her thoughts return to her kids, but it feels like she’s approaching her problems from a different perspective now.

So she missed most of the school year with them - what’s done is done. Her time at the district was not just time lost, like her spiraling thoughts were trying to convince her earlier. She helped Abbott get a librarian. And she helped Alex get motivated to stay in school! And no matter what subs passed through earlier in the year, what’s important is that her second graders have a teacher who cares for them right now.

Janine’s thoughts are swirling again, but this time with positive ideas. Maybe she can give another lesson on present participles next week, and then have everyone retake the quiz to really cement the concept. Maybe she'll encourage the kids to write her letters over the summer, to remind them that she’ll always be a resource for them at Abbott, even after second grade. That’ll be good practice for sentence structure too. Ooh, maybe she'll show them Schoolhouse Rock! There’s nothing super insightful behind that idea. It’s just something fun she hasn’t gotten to do for this batch of kids yet.

Janine takes a seat at her desk and goes to reach for her coffee mug, only to realize she never actually made her cup of coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

She shrugs with a small smile. It’s for the best. The sheer joy of encountering a carefree Gregory singing to his plants was even better than a fresh cup of coffee: all the benefits of caffeine, with none of the unpleasant side effects.

Chapter Text

“Janine shut that down. Told Mr. Manny that she likes somebody else.”

Somebody else? Gregory feels chills run down his spine despite the warm night. Janine…turned Manny down. Manny’s not in her apartment right now.

Somebody else. Suddenly, every piece of the night slots into place like Gregory tapped the “Auto Complete” button in his Solitaire app. That talk they had on the bed. The eye contact across the room. Those moments weren’t one-sided. The energy he felt between them wasn’t projection, or his imagination exaggerating things. It was real; it is real: Janine has feelings for him too. And she doesn’t have feelings for anyone else.

Without another word to the group, Gregory turns and begins walking back the way they came from. He thinks he hears Jacob call “Yes!! Go get her, man!” but his mind is buzzing so loudly he can barely hear him.

Somebody else. He’s been an idiot. He likes Janine, and Janine likes him back. His heart jumps at the simple sentence, and his footsteps pick up speed.

God, he’s liked her for so long. What has he been doing tonight, walking away, wasting more time? They’re both single and they have feelings for each other and he can’t believe he left her apartment tonight. He can’t believe he’s not with her right now.

Gregory’s always felt a magnetic pull towards Janine, ever since the day they met. It’s a pull that’s kept him knocking on her door and sitting with her in the teacher’s lounge day after day, even when he probably shouldn’t have. He thought the pull might fade one day, but over the past few years the magnetism has only grown more powerful. And in the past couple of weeks, ever since that night that Gregory thought Janine was on a date with Manny, the draw has been ridiculously, incredibly strong. So strong, it’s scary.

Maybe that’s why he’s been looking for signs that Janine and Manny are dating. Because what if the magnet that pulls him towards Janine is so strong, it’s been clouding his judgment? The safe thing to do, always, is to ignore his heart and look at the facts: Janine invited Manny to her party; she was happy to see Manny; Manny was lingering towards the end of the night. So in spite of the way he can practically see the sparks fly between himself and Janine when they lock eyes, maybe, just maybe, Janine and Manny could be dating. And the very last thing Gregory wants to do is disrespect Janine’s wishes.

But he now he has the facts along with the feelings. He has solid confirmation from Erika, the best friend herself, that Janine doesn’t want Manny, she wants somebody else. He doesn’t have to fight the magnetic pull any longer. He can follow it straight to Janine’s door.

With one block to go, Gregory’s quick walk picks up into a full jog.

Oh god, he hasn't even considered what he’ll say to her. Some sort of profession of feelings? But words don’t seem to be forming in his head like they usually do. Gregory can only think of Janine in her party dress and her pretty face and the way she was leaning in towards him on the bed earlier tonight. He’s going to knock on her door and be a speechless idiot.

Well, better to be an idiot at her door than an idiot walking away from her.

As he reaches the stairs that lead down to her apartment, Gregory’s heart hammers in his chest, and it has nothing to do with the jog. Still, the magnetic pull is unwilling to let up. He takes the stairs down two at a time, stopping only at Janine’s front stoop to look up.

The light outside Janine’s door is flickering, just as it was earlier in the evening. He’d noticed the problem as he entered the party, figuring that it was probably due to a loose bulb. But at the time he had passed it by, willing to blend in as just another guest at the party.

But now, Gregory doesn’t want to be just another guest passing through Janine’s door. He wants to be someone for her, do everything for her, starting with fixing this light that is clearly too high for her to reach. Standing on his tiptoes, Gregory reaches up to screw the lightbulb in a bit tighter. It squeaks, then glows bright, fixed.

It feels a bit like Gregory’s heart: flickering for far too long, and now, glowing at full intensity.

Not wasting another second, Gregory knocks on Janine’s door in the same way he always does, the way that makes him feel like he’s floating because he’s about to see his favorite person.

To his relief, or maybe to his panic, Janine answers immediately, looking beautifully confounded. Gregory’s hand is still raised in the air from his knock. The game show wheel of his mind spins with endless possibilities of what to say. He could explain how he realized his foolishness. Or that he’s done caring about the rules, or HR, or the consequences of dating a colleague. Or he could admit that he’s so drawn to her, he doesn’t think he could go another day without finding himself at her doorstep like this.

All of these options fly by in a matter of milliseconds. But inexplicably, the wheel lands on something else: an explanation, a confession, and a promise all in one (though it doesn’t sound like any of those things at all).

“I fixed your light.”

It doesn’t take any more words to step into Janine’s apartment, tell the doc crew to scram, and show Janine that he’s done being an idiot.

Chapter Text

Ping. The baseball makes a satisfying noise as it collides with Gregory’s metal bat and flies toward the other end of the batting cage. It hits the net on the opposite side and falls to join its fellow victims.

From behind the netted rectangle, Janine breaks out into applause. “Home run! No, grand slam! The bases were loaded! Four more runs! The referee has lost count! The other team is giving up and going home!”

Gregory chuckles at Janine’s commentary as he steps out of the batting cage and removes his helmet. “No referees in baseball, only umpires,” he corrects gently. “But everything else sounds totally plausible.”

“You look good out there,” Janine grins at her boyfriend, eying his fitted short-sleeved shirt.

“Yeah? My swing does feel like it’s getting better.”

“Oh yeah, your swing too. You’re a regular - uh - Rip Calvin Jr.”

“Cal Ripken Jr,” Gregory corrects again, with a smile on his face. “Look, I know this isn’t really your thing, but I really like having you here.” He leans down to kiss her and Janine can’t help but smile into the kiss.

“Should we…get out of here?” Janine asks suggestively. Not that she’s not having a good time watching Gregory repeatedly swing a metal bat. Truly. There are good things to look at. But she’s ready to compound on this fun, at home.

“Hold up,” Gregory chuckles. “I’ve got two pitching machine tokens left, and you haven’t even had a turn yet. You wanted to give it a try, right?”

“Oh, right,” Janine reluctantly obliges. “Yeah, I guess.” Despite her disinclination, the way Gregory’s face lights up lets Janine know she’s made the right decision. And suddenly, his enthusiasm lights the spark for her own enthusiasm as well.

She’s gonna hack some baseballs! Or whatever people say.

“Alright - helmet,” Gregory hands Janine the batter’s helmet, which she shoves on over her curls, knowing that they’ll be out of sorts by the time she takes the helmet off. “Bat,” he checks off, gingerly handing over the metal bat. “When’s the last time you swung a baseball bat?”

“Uh - maybe on the playground when I was six?”

“So you need a refresher on form?” Gregory’s question is completely serious, which Janine finds utterly endearing. She imagines six-year-old Gregory did pay close attention to the form of his swing, and even though that may say something troubling about the seriousness of Gregory’s childhood, it also reminds Janine of one of the things she admires about him: the way he takes her seriously too.

“I’d say so,” Janine agrees, so Gregory leads Janine into the batting cage and directs her where to stand.

“Alright, you wanna grip the bat here, one hand on top of the other…yeah, good. Feet shoulder-width apart. Now, hands up by your back shoulder. And the bat should be at about a 45-degree angle. No, 45. That’s closer to 90. No…”

“Okay, I don’t have my protractor on me,” Janine jokes, “So I might need a little help.”

“How about this?” Gregory steps behind her, then comes in very close, his whole front pressed to her whole back. He wraps his arms around her and rests his hands on top of hers, so all four of their hands are gripping the bat. “Does this help?” His voice comes out in a low whisper by her ear now.

“Feeling better already,” Janine says, but she feels her grip on the bat involuntarily weaken a bit.

“Don’t lower your bat,” Gregory directs in his low whisper again. Janine honestly can’t tell if he’s flirting or giving serious advice now. Whatever it is, it’s working for her. “Like this...” He carefully adjusts the height and angle of the bat they’re both holding. “Feel that?”

“Yes,” Janine says. She’s feeling a lot of things right now.

“Good. Now slowly, carefully, not hitting the person behind you in the head, we’re gonna wind up…” Gregory twists them so that Janine’s weight transfers to her back leg. “...and swing.” He releases their twist and their hands move forward, the bat slicing the air with a swoosh .

“Perfect. You’re a natural,” Gregory says as he steps back.

“I did almost nothing,” Janine laughs. “That was all you.”

“No it wasn’t,” Gregory insists. “Go ahead, try it again now.” On her own this time, Janine imitates the movement Gregory just walked her through. The bat swooshes through the air again. 

“MLB material,” Gregory confirms. “And I bet you’d be a challenging batter for pitchers to throw to, with your height. Are you a fast runner?”

“Do I need to be?” Janine asks nervously.

“No, no,” Gregory seems to shake himself out of a reverie. “I was just imagining you running bases. But you’re right, let’s start with hitting. Ready for the pitching machine?”

“Let me at ‘em,” Janine confirms, eyeing the machine across the way as though it’s her arch rival.

“One token is good for twelve pitches,” Gregory informs as he walks over to ready the machine. And I can’t stop it. Once it starts, it’s going to twelve. But there will be a pause in between each pitch. I mean, you know, you saw it work when I was swinging.”

“Yes, I was definitely paying attention to the pitching machine then,” Janine plays along. “Twelve pitches, got it.”

“Alright, I’m starting it up and stepping outside the net,” Gregory says. “Next up to bat, Janine ‘The Iron Woman’ Teagues!”

Fueled by his faith in her and his watchful eye, Janine proudly takes the stance Gregory showed her, eyes locked on the pitching machine. She’s ready to knock one out of the park…or the net…even though the ball really should stay in the net, for safety reasons.

The machine whirs to a start, and then a baseball spits out of the front and hurdles straight toward Janine, as fast as a speeding bullet.

“Ahh!” Janine yells as she jumps out of the way just in time. “I didn’t know they’d come at me that fast!”

“Oh shoot,” Janine hears Gregory’s worried voice from behind her. “I forgot to lower the pitching speed. They’re going at 70 miles per hour right now; I’d probably have started you at 30.”

“That’s - that’s okay - ahh!” Janine yells and flinches as a second ball launches at her. 

“Try and hit one! You’ve got the form!”

“Okay -” Janine starts, but as she looks down at her feet to try and take the correct stance again, another ball spits out of the machine and she ducks in a panic. “They’re like snowballs, but worse!” she calls from the ground.

“You got it!” Gregory encourages. Janine quickly stands up, determined to be ready for the next one. It flies at her again, but this time, she takes an offensive approach.

She swings! And she misses, completely. Nothing but air.

“That’s okay. Aim a little higher this time,” Gregory’s patient voice carries to her ears. Janine retakes her stance. This time, when the ball comes at her, she watches it with attention rather than fear.

Swing - ping! The sound and the reverberation up Janine’s arms confirm that she definitely made contact this time, though with the way the baseball fell to the side, she probably didn’t hit it head-on.

“Nice!” Janine can hear Gregory behind her still, sounding genuinely impressed. “Remember that 45 degree angle, now.”

Happy to remember Gregory’s arms around her, Janine retakes the correct form. The results of her remaining pitches range from foul balls to more complete misses. But on the twelfth pitch, Janine hits the baseball with her most satisfying ping yet, and the ball launches in the opposite direction, flying through the air before landing several yards in front of her.

“Home run!” Janine yelps as she jumps.

“Probably a single, but still really great progress!” Gregory, ever the realist, says. This time, it’s Janine’s turn to exit the batting cage and remove her helmet, feeling like the hero at the end of a sports movie. 

“How’d I do?” she asks her boyfriend.

“Amazing,” Gregory says with genuine passion. He grips her shoulders, giving her a proud shake. “You look…really good out there.” He eyes her up and down, a look in his eyes that Janine is pleasantly familiar with. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Whoa, buddy,” Janine says, half-joking, half-serious. “Don’t you have another token? Gimme twelve more pitches. I’ve still got some holes in my swing.”

Chapter Text

“Alright, thanks,” Janine says into her phone. She presses the button to hang up and scowls at the ceiling.

“What’d they say?” Gregory inquires from her couch.

“That my car’s not gonna be ready for another three days!” Janine rehashes, approaching Gregory to return to her spot on the couch. “I thought when we dropped it off this morning that it would only take a few hours. Three days is like, a long time to go without a car.”

“It is. But this is important,” Gregory replies with his steady, reasonable tone. “I really think you need a working fuel gauge. As much as you insist that you know your car and can ‘feel’ when it’s low on gas, it’s better to know for sure.”

“I guess,” Janine shrugs, not fully done pouting. Gregory puts his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him.

“Plus, we carpool a lot anyways,” Gregory points out. “So it’s not a big deal for me to drive you around for a few days.”

“Yeah, I know,” Janine sulks. “It’s just a freedom thing. Like, what if it’s 10PM and you’re not here and I need a loaf of bread?”

“Why would you need a loaf of bread at 10PM?”

“I guess I could just walk to the corner store,” Janine muses, avoiding Gregory’s logistical query. “It’s a few blocks away and they’re open till midnight, I think.”

“You wouldn’t do that though, right?” Gregory’s arm around Janine’s shoulder loosens, so she straightens up to look at him. Off of her quizzical expression, he continues, “You wouldn’t walk by yourself around here at night? I mean, I don’t have to tell you this isn’t the best neighborhood.” 

“Gregory, it’s fine,” Janine says with a laugh. “I always have pepper spray on me. And the corner store is really a short walk.” She scans Gregory’s face, looking for him to crack a smile and agree with her. But instead, he continues to don his concerned face.

“I don’t like it,” he says simply. Janine can’t help but feel the slightest twinge of annoyance that he didn’t even acknowledge her point about the pepper spray. “How about, if you really need a loaf of bread past sunset in the next couple of days, you just call me and I’ll go get you one?”

Janine is still smiling, but her brows furrow now. She’s feeling a strange combination of emotions. For one, she’s flattered that her boyfriend is legitimately concerned about her safety. It’s sweet. But it’s also annoying that he’s insisting she not do something that she wants to do. Even if it is a hypothetical situation.

“I think I’d be fine getting it myself,” Janine says firmly, smiling still so as to signify she’s not looking to start a fight.

“Janine,” Gregory says, in the tone that she recognizes as don’t be so stubborn.

“Gregory!” Janine replies, exasperated now. But then, something occurs to her. “Oh, I know why you’re not seeing my side. You don’t know that I know self defense.”

“I - what?” Gregory seems caught off guard. “Did you take a class or something?”

“Close. I saw a TikTok about pressure points that you can use to knock someone out. If anyone tries to attack me, I can take them down with a single thumb.” Janine gives Gregory a thumbs up to demonstrate. He continues to stare at her wide-eyed.

“Janine…” He says her name again, and this time it’s filled with caution and thickly painted-on patience as though he’s negotiating with one of his first graders. And Janine is not having it.

“It works, I swear to god.”

“Have you tried it?”

“Well I haven’t personally! The opportunity hasn’t presented itself yet!”

“Janine, I’m 100% confident that there are no human pressure points that result in immediate unconsciousness. That kind of martial arts nonsense is only found in movies. And on TikTok, apparently.”

If she’s being honest, Janine wasn’t 100% sold on the pressure points prior to this discussion. She was only pretty sure they worked. But now that Gregory has thrown the “100% confidence” onto his side of the argument, she’s ready to be 100% committed to her side.

“Let me prove it to you then,” Janine hears herself say. “Let me practice my self defense on you.”

A few moments pass where they stare at each other.

“Are you asking to attempt to knock me unconscious?” Gregory clarifies.

“If you don’t believe it works, then there’s nothing to be scared of,” Janine challenges smugly. She knows she’s got him there. A smile creeps onto Gregory’s face, but whether it’s masking his fear of her skills or just a smile of plain incredulity, she’s not sure.

****

Gregory can feel himself smiling. It’s probably not the time to smile, as Janine is being ridiculously stubborn about something that could actually be quite dangerous. But she's cute when she’s willfully challenging him, so he can’t help it. Plus, he knows this is a challenge he’ll win easily.

“You know what? You’re right,” Gregory concedes. “Why don’t you try it out on me, and then we’ll both know for sure if you know self defense.”

“Fine. But I’m warning you, you could be out for hours.”

“Fine with me. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Janine directs Gregory to lay down on the couch, because despite his insistence that this is not conducive to the position an attacker would be in, Janine doesn’t want to run the risk of Gregory falling and hitting his head. 

Gregory knows there’s zero risk of this, because the pressure points that Janine has been talking about don’t exist. But he lays on the couch anyways. And as his girlfriend hovers around him, fretting about just the right place to put her thumb, Gregory remembers something his dad used to say a lot when his mom was still alive: you can be right, or you can be happy.

As an 8-year old, Gregory didn’t entirely understand. He was pretty sure the best way to be happy was to be right - why would these things be opposites?

But in this moment, he understands. When Janine goes to press her thumb into who-knows-where in a few minutes, he could show her what actually happens: a whole lot of nothing. He could prove to her that this self defense lesson she learned on TikTok is garbage. He could be right. And in being right, he could go on to further dig his heel in on his original point, that she should not be walking alone in this neighborhood at night.

And she’d probably continue to be stubborn, which would lead to her getting upset. And he’d be upset too.

Or…he could be happy. He could give in to Janine’s “pressure point,” pretend to pass out, and let her believe her trick worked. He’d probably get to hear her gasp in joy. And hear her happily brag later. And see her smile again. Not her stubborn smile (which yes, is cute), but her genuine, happy smile (which makes him feel like life is worth living).

And after Janine finishes gushing about how her trick actually worked, he could talk to her gently. He could let her know that even though she may have a few self defense tricks up her sleeve, and he knows he can’t tell her what to do, he just cares about her a lot and wants her to be safe.

Tonight, he chooses to be happy.

But he has to be convincing. So when Janine first presses her thumb against a random spot on his forehead, Gregory keeps his eyes open and his skeptical expression on. 

“Am I supposed to be knocked out now?” Gregory asks teasingly.

“No, wait, I think there was a different one…” Janine mutters, concentrating.

For her second attempt, Janine digs her thumb into the back of Gregory’s shoulder, and this at least feels more realistic than the forehead one, so he decides to begin his performance here. He digs deep for his best acting: rolling his eyes back as they close, opening his mouth slightly, letting his limbs go limp. He’s actually grateful now that Janine insisted they do this exercise with him already laying down, as he’s not sure how convincing he could make a fall from standing up look.

From what Gregory can tell (as his eyes are now closed), Janine seems to buy it. He hears her gasp, just as he thought she would. Then he feels a poke in his arm - she's prodding him, seeing if he's really out. He does his very best not to budge. After the poke, there are a few moments of silence, by the end of which Gregory thinks he may have gotten away with it. But then Janine surprises him by picking up his wrist, raising it above him, and then letting it fall. Gregory does a decent job of making his arm appear as lifeless as possible, but it’s his suppressed smile that he thinks might give him away. 

“Okay…” he hears Janine say. Gregory waits with bated breath. Then, more satisfied, she declares, “Okay!” He feels a comforting pat on his shoulder, and then he hears Janine move to the kitchen. 

He lays there for close to two hours before he pretends to wake up disoriented. It’s not hard, as it turns out. He’s tired from the day. His body and eyes needed the rest. And Janine’s happy little hums as she moves around her apartment are the perfect soundtrack. Given the chance, he'd agree to get knocked out by his girlfriend again in a heartbeat.

****

It is abundantly clear to Janine that Gregory is faking it. The way he “passes out” is almost comical - it looks like he's imitating a cartoon character! He definitely cracks a smile when she drops his arm too. And if those aren't enough, there's a point where Janine passes by the couch and she swears she sees Gregory’s eyes open slightly. He thinks she isn't looking, but she sees him. These are certainly not the behaviors of an unconscious man.

Janine could have called him out on it immediately. But she kind of wanted to see how committed to the bit he’d be.

And Janine never should have doubted her boyfriend’s commitment, as it’s nearly two hours later when he “wakes up.” Again, she has the chance to call him out on his terrible acting, but she doesn’t.

Janine figures she can be right, or she can be happy. And if all it takes for her to be happy is letting her boyfriend get away with his bit, she can do that. Oh, and she supposes she can agree to let him bring her a loaf of bread at 10PM too. If that's all it takes for happiness, she thinks she’s ready to let him win this one.