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It's the first day at her new job, and Rumi had started confident . Everything had been going according to plan; wake up at 5 o'clock sharp, get out of bed immediately so as not to succumb to the demons of sleep, shower, and so forth. Rumi was in such a good mood that she decided to stop for a quick coffee on the way to school.
That was the first mistake.
The second one came while she sat in the drive through, staring at the menu out of habit even though she knew what she was going to get. She saw an advertisement for an "Office Order" special with a picture depicting 6 small coffee cups nestled neatly into a specialized drink tray, so she ordered that along with her regular order of a large cookies & cream frappechino. It's one way to make a good first impression, right?
She rolled her car up to the second window after paying at the first and smiled politely as the worker handed her the drinks, but paused as the worker held out a standard 4-slot drink carrier.
She paused before taking it and smiled apologetically. "Hi, I thought the 'Office Order' special came with 6 coffees?"
The worker, a young man with blue dyed hair and an ear piercing, shrugged. "Sorry, Ma'am, we're out of the special carriers. I have your other three drinks in another carrier."
"That's alright," Rumi said, taking the drinks. A fancy drink carrier isn't critical to the success of her day, after all. Her smile only fell a little as she tried to figure out the logistics of putting two drink carriers in her passenger seat before giving up and holding the second one carefully on top of her thigh and the car door armrest.
Rumi was pulling out of the parking lot when a car going the opposite direction turned in and cut her off. She pressed the brake a little too suddenly, and her hand slammed down on top of the drinks in her lap just in time to stop them careening down to the floor. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the drinks in her passenger seat.
All she could do was watch as coffee spilled all over her poor old car.
The subsequent double back to her apartment to clean the spill has her anxiously staring at the clock on her dashboard. She had left with plently of time to grab a coffee, make her way to her classroom, and get some extra first-day-of-school preparation done before she has any students in the room.
The universe clearly had other plans, and that's why Rumi is only barely pulling into the staff parking lot 30 minutes before first period. She moves as quickly as possible while still balancing the remaining tray of three drinks. At least her frappecino was one of the survivors, but that also means that she can only awkwardly hand coffee to the first two coworkers she sees.
Of course, Rumi doesn't actually see any of her fellow teachers, or even any administration out and about. Mostly due to the sheer chaos that is a high school right before the first day of class. Friends reuiniting and standing in the middle of the hallway to talk, the quad packed with students like sardines while some sort of paperwork is being handed out, and a great number of freshmen looking confused.
Luckily, the principal, Bobby, had been a godsend since she had gotten the position as a math teacher at Honmoon High. He was an exceedingly kind man, probably about 10 years her senior, and very excited to have someone with her qualifications joining them. He had even helped procure supplies to help decorate her classroom. More importantly, he had already given Rumi the tour.
She bee-lines for the teachers lounge, a small room tucked away behind the administration building. Juggling both her bag and the drink tray, she pulls open the door and steps inside.
The first thing she notices is the smell. When Bobby and her had popped their heads in here on the tour, it had distinctly smelled like industrial cleaner and been wiped barren other than a microwave on the counter.
It was still barren, that much hadn't changed; but now the space smells distinctly like cinnamon and sandalwood. It's pleasant; more than pleasant, in fact, and she quickly registers it as alpha.
The source isn't hard to find. Sitting in one of the hard plastic classroom chairs with long legs kicked up on the table is a woman. A very attractive woman, at that. Her long pink hair is pulled up into a ponytail with a few strands loose and coming down to frame her sharp face, and her eyes lock on to Rumi as she enters.
Rumi pauses as she comes inside. She offers a polite smile as she sets down the cardboard tray on the counter. Picking up her frappucino, Rumi turns back to the woman and says, "Feel free to have one of these, by the way."
The woman tilts her head, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. She doesn't respond immediately, and Rumi really needs to get going. She turns around to leave after another awkward smile.
"I didn't know we had a coffee girl," A deep, melodic voice says from behind her. "And such a cute one, at that."
Rumi pauses with her hand on the door, a flush quickly overtaking her features. She quickly turns back to where the alpha sits, gaze boring into Rumi from across the room.
"Oh, I don't- I'm not-" Rumi splutters, and the woman throws her gorgeous head back and laughs. Maybe she should be more affronted at getting heckled by a total stranger, but something about the look in said stranger's eyes is keeping her too flustered to actually respond.
The woman swings her sinfully long legs off the table, setting them on the ground while she leads forward, smirking. "I'm Mira. PE teacher."
That explains the sweatpants, at least. Rumi had been half convinced a stray model had come in off the street and hid in the staff room.
"Rumi," she actually manages to say. "My name, I mean. I'm the new algebra teacher."
Mira's eyes widen slightly. "You're the hotshot with all of the degrees Bobby was talking about?"
Rumi's face burns. Apparently, she had forgotten to specify to Bobby to keep her past quiet. She winces, and braces herself for the woman to ask her that question. The question most people first think of once they learn that she has four degrees and teaches high school algebra. 'Why?'
But when she nods, Mira just grins, crooked and genuine. "Cool," is all she says.
Rumi just nods again. She really should be able to form more words than she has.
The door to the staff room opens, and the spell is broken. Rumi just smiles and raises a hand in farewell that Mira returns, lazily. She slips out of the room, the memory of cinnamon and sandalwood sharp in her mind.
The first few class periods go smoothly, and by lunchtime Rumi has almost relaxed into a rhythm.
She sits at her desk with her lunchbox out, an open Tupperware of half-eaten bibimbap set off to the side while she preps the introduction powerpoint for the next period on her laptop.
After lunch will be her AP Calculus class. It's the only class of seniors she teaches this year, and she's slightly nervous about the prospect. Hence the obsessive checking of her introduction slides for the class.
Rumi is satisfied with what she sees, and connects her laptop to the smart board screen. She figures she may as well get it on the screen ahead of time.
The only problem is, instead of reflecting her laptop screen, the board just turns an ominous shade of blue and refuses to respond. She frowns and presses the restart button only for the screen to distort with static before switching off.
Dread pools in her stomach as she attemtps to turn the device back on and the screen just remains blank.
"Seriously?" She looks up at the clock; 12:42. There's only 12 minutes until the bell rings and she needs this stupid smart board to work.
She's embarassed at how fast she pulls out her phone to text Bobby, but her anxieties get the better of her as she shoots off an SOS.
Rumi (12:42 PM)
Hi Bobby, sorry to bother you already. My SMART Board is having an issue. Are there any tricks I should know?
The response is almost instant, and relief crashes over Rumi in a wave. Thank the universe for Bobby.
Bobby (12:42 PM)
Did the screen turn blue
Rumi (12:43)
Yes, how did you know?
Bobby (12:43 PM)
I have good news and bad news
Bad: It's caput
Good: I can send in a projector
Hold tight
Rumi (12:43 PM)
Thank you!
Rumi uses the wait to clean up her desk and pass out a syllabus to each desk, but she only gets halfway through that task before the door to her classroom creaks open.
A woman pops her head in. She sees Rumi and smiles before fully entering with a projector tucked under one arm.
"Howdy, neighbor!" The woman tips an invisible hat, and Rumi likes her immediately. Now that she has a closer look, she's starting to wonder what's in the water at this school, because this woman also happens to be drop dead gorgeous.
She's also adorable. Rumi can't help her gaze from trailing over the shorter woman. She is wearing faded jeans and blue sneakers with little white turtles on them, along with a t-shirt that says "Turtle-y Awesome" paired with a tweed blazer that has the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
"That was fast," Rumi comments, and she can't help but smile. Something about this woman feels like sunshine on her skin after being stuck in her classroom for the past few hours. She sets down the stack of papers she was passing out and waves in greeting. "Hi, it's nice to meet you! I'm-"
"Rumi." The woman finishes her sentence for her, and Rumi feels her face burn in embarassment for the second time today. "Bobby told me all about you! It's so nice to meet you. I'm Zoey. I teach bio right next door." She juts her thumb over to the right, and steps up to Rumi with her other hand held out for an eager handshake. Rumi meets her in the middle, taking the other woman's hand in her own in a brief, polite gesture.
It's supposed to be a brief, polite gesture.
When their hands clasp, the woman's scent reaches her nose, and it's all she can do to keep from tilting her head up to sniff the air. Clean, salty notes that remind her of the ocean breeze are accompanied by undertones of strawberry. It's subtle, unnassuming; but Rumi can smell the sharp tang of alpha underneath the calm waters.
Despite being an omega, Rumi has never spared alphas much mind before. Their scents ranged from "mildly pleasant" at best and "rankishly offensive" at worst, in her opinion. The fact that over the span of a few hours she has met two separate alphas that smell like every meal she's ever wanted and never gotten to eat? It's almost suspicious.
Logically, she know's that no one is going to pop out with cameras and a sign saying, "You got pranked! We manufactured your exact types from your diary entries, and put holograms at your new job that's supposed to be a fresh start." That would be ridiculous.
The warmth of Zoey's hand is far too real to be an illusion, after all.
Rumi realizes she's been actively shaking the alpha's hand for who knows and she quickly snatches her own hand back, blushing impossibly deeper. "I'm Rumi!"
Zoey still grins but her brows furrow a little in confusion. "I know."
Just kill me now. "Right, um- oh! The projector?"
Zoey lets out an oh! and hands it over. "Do you need help setting it up?"
Yes, she immediately wants to answer. She is both completely helpless with technology and wants any excuse for this cute alpha to stay and smile at her like this forever. She remembers the impending class period and her eyes flicker over to the clock.
12:55.
Her eyes widen. "Thank you so much for the offer. And The projector. And for being so nice to me. Uh- the bell rings in five minutes, though. I'm sure I can figure it out."
Zoey shrugs. "I'm sure you can, too- but I still don't mind. I don't have a fifth period this year."
Rumi has never been great at accepting help. Doing things on her own was so drilled into her that anything else felt wrong. Even being able to text Bobby for assistance was only the result of the past 8 months of therapy. Something about this alpha makes her want to try, though.
Rumi smiles. "If you don't mind working while I give my intro spiel."
The way Zoey lights up as if Rumi is the one doing her a favor makes her heart skip a beat. "Not at all! I'll set it up on your desk and the busted smart board can be the backdrop."
The bell rings while Zoey moves to start setting up the projector, and Rumi does her best to be subtle about the nervous breath she takes before moving to open her door and let the kids in.
Rumi props open the door and smiles, indicating for the awaiting crowd of students to start filing in. She returns to her desk as the class finds their seats.
First through the door is a curly haired boy who smiles politely at her as he walks in, and Rumi watches as he spots Zoey and his face lights up.
"Ms. Choi?" He says, and most of the students following him in light up too. All of a sudden, Rumi's classroom is like a celebrity citing in public, the kids crowding around Zoey as she laughs and smiles at them.
"Go back to your seats, guys," she says, waving off the curious students."I'm just helping R- Ms. Ryu out. Be nice to her, okay?"
The teens nod and mostly disperse, and she sighs in relief when they all seem to be pleased about her lax seating arrangements. The rest of her periods are filled with freshman, and she has them sorted by alphabetical order until she at least gets a feel for each group. However, she remembers the frustration of being on the cusp of adulthood and not even being allowed to choose where you sit, so she wrote "Free Seating" on the chalkboard on the wall next to the smart board.
She clears her throat, and begins the class as Zoey plugs in various cords and presses buttons.
"Hello, everyone! My name is Ms. Ryu, and I'm excited to your AP Calculus teacher."
Rumi proceeds with her introduction spiel, talking about the syllabus on their desks and how they'll go over it soon.
"Unfortunately, my smart board decided that today was it's last straw. Fortunately, Ms. Choi from next door has been chivalrous enough to come set up a solution." Rumi's inner omega can't help but purr at the blush that colors the alpha's cheeks, and she immediately shoves it down.
Crushes on coworkers are not on the agenda.
Zoey waves at the class despite already having spoken to most of them. "Hey guys! Be outta your hair in a jiffy, don't even worry about it." She presses a button on the projector, and light flighters on to the board.
Rumi puts a hand over her heart dramatically. "My hero!"
Zoey bows, playing along, and the classroom is filled with snickers and giggles at their antics. She turns to Rumi. "Need anything else?"
Rumi shakes her head. "You've done enough. Thank you again."
Zoey salutes, and walks backwards while looking at her. "Alright, well, you know where to find me if you need something." She bumps in the desk of a student with lavender hair, who looks more amused than anything. She eeks out a sorry before actually managing to find the door and slip out.
Rumi watches her go with a smile before turning back to her class and clapping her hands together. "Alright, let's get to this syllabus."
By the end of the first school day, Rumi is exhausted. She met dozens of kids and he head is swimming with faces and names and things to remember for the rest of the year.
A headache started somewhere during the last period when one of her freshmen had begun loudly boasting about his early presentation as an alpha over the summer. She kindly told him to stay on topic, and he did pipe down, but the defiance in his posture hold her to keep an eye on him.
Rumi's finally packing up to go home when there's a knock on her door.
"Come in!" She calls as she carefully tucks her folder of notes she'd taken throughout the day into her bag. The scent of ocean air and strawberries settles over her as the guest settles into her room, and she grins to herself.
"Come to take back your projector?" Rumi finally looks up at Zoey, who has lost the blazer, and the omega does not take notice of the definition of her biceps.
"Nah, you can keep it. It's been rotting in my storage closet for like, three years now." Zoey walks up to her desk, and she crosses her arms as she tilts her head. "I just wanted to check in and see how your first day went."
Rumi's heart warms. "That's really thoughtful of you. It went well, all things considered. Although I can imagine it would've gone worse if it wasn't for my white knight."
The red tint on Zoey's cheeks is exactly the reaction Rumi was going for, and she has to take a moment to convince herself it's just friendly banter before she allows herself to bask in the feeling.
Zoey opens her mouth, and then closes it. Rumi tilts her head, waiting, and the alpha's hand comes up to scratch the back of her head awkwardly.
"I just thought that being neighbors and all, I figured you might want an easy way to reach me. In case you ever need anything. I think I said that earlier…um, anyways, so, I was wondering if you'd want my number. My phone number. To text me. If you need anything." Her mouth finally snaps shut, a deeper flush taking over her face after the ramble.
It's the cutest thing Rumi's ever seen.
She takes pity on the rambling woman, already taking her phone out of her pocket and pulling up a 'new contact' page.
"Of course, that's no problem at all. Here," Rumi says, passing over her phone. Zoey takes it gingerly as if it's a great privilege being bestowed upon her. She hands it back after a few suspiciously long few seconds of screen-tapping, and Rumi grins when she sees Zoey has texted herself from Rumi's phone.
Rumi (4:02 PM)
omg is this the super awesome and cool biology teacher next door to me 🤯
Rumi turns off the phone screen and slips it into her pocket. "I won't hesitate to summon you if I need anything."
Zoey's chest puffs out. "Good." Her eyes flicker across the classroom. "Well, I'll let you get going. Have a lovely day, Rumi." Rumi savors the way her name sounds on Zoey's lips as she leaves the classroom.
When she's alone again, she slumps back into her chair. Maybe this job was going to be more exciting than she thought.