Chapter Text
"Don't forget to hand the permission slips to your parents, if you haven't already!" Ryland's voice was stern, but he never raised it. Never toward his students, anyway. But he knew - he saw - that his students were barely paying attention. The bell had rung and they were fleeing the classroom as fast as they could.
Guys, come on, summer break is a month away, you can handle one more second listening to me.
Well, apparently, that's not what the students thought. They all wanted to go home, and Ryland respected that, but if they didn't get their permission slips signed by tomorrow, they couldn't go to the museum next week. And Ryland could already hear the parents' voices in his head, arguing with him.
Ryland always gave his students a week to give their permission slips to their parents. Not only to ensure the kids would actually hand it to their parents, but to also give the parents some time to prepare.
It was ethical, he thought. Well, it would be, if his students would actually listen to him.
Some of them fled faster than others. Some of them in groups, others alone, or trying to keep up with their friends. Ryland saw himself in some of them. Definetly not the ones who were at the front, chatting away with their friends. No, he symphatized with the kids who sat in the front, and were bullied for talking too much. Because that used to be him many moons ago.
He tries his best to help his students in any way he can, or any way they will let him, because sometimes a kid doesn't want a teacher to help them, especially if they are already being picked at. Others seeing that your middle school science teacher is your friend is definetly not a good look on you. But he tried, nevertheless.
On the first week of school, he put out a cardboard box beside his desk. The box was wrapped in burgundy paper and the lid had a small hole cut out, so that way students could ask for help by passing a note. He had placed it in a way that it wouldn't be too noticeable if someone dropped in a note as they walked by. Whether it was about classmates, or they just needed someone to talk with, Ryland helped as much as they let him.
Why? Because he had a rough time in school when he was a kid. He didn't like thinking about it too much, or at all, actually. It was a wound that he tried to keep closed, but it kept ripping.
His therapist as a child had always said to never bury his feelings. But that is exactly what he has been doing all his life. And now, in his adulthood, things are coming back to bite him in the -
"Mr. Grace..?"
A student's voice snapped the teacher back into the present day. He wiped at his face, sniffling once, before facing the girl standing in front of his desk.
"Did you need anything, Ellie?"
Ryland let out a soft exhale, trying to regain his composure. He hadn't realised that the girl had been standing there for god knows how long, waiting for him to stop daydreaming. It made it more awkward that the man started crying.
"Yes, but.. now I'm wondering if you're alright."
Ellie cocked an eyebrow at her science teacher. She had seen him tired, but this was new. Her hands tightened on her backpack strap, trying to gauge if Ryland was okay.
"oh, yeah, n-no, everything's fine, Ellie. What did you need?" Ryland sniffed once more. He turned to fully face the girl now, who was still skeptical.
"My dad's out of town until the rest of the week" Ellie exhaled a huff of breath, looking up at Ryland. "He was supposed to come home today, but he called me this morning that he needed to stay a few more days at work."
"Oh. Well, that certainly complicates things." Ryland leaned against his forearms onto the table. He was deep in thought, his earlier thoughts completely forgotten. "Well, I need to check with the principal about that. You still want to come to the trip, right?
Ella nodded, her enthusiasm slipping through. Ryland remembered that she loved history museums - or any museum in general.
"Okay. I will see what I can do. But I can't assure you Ms. Willow will let you come with us without parental agreement." She opened her mouth to protest "no, a text message isn't enough." Ryland cut her off, looking down at her over the rim of his askew glasses.
Ellie pouted and nodded. "Alright. Thank you anyway, Mr. Grace." She pushed her hands behind her backpack straps, ready to leave.
"No problem, Ellie. Have a good day."
Ryland watched the girl's already retreating back. She was bright, interesting, and loved studying. Ryland remembered her telling him that science was his favorite class of the week, but he never actually believed her. Not that it was hard to believe, given she had almost perfect grades, but they both knew History was Ellie's favorite. Come on, who was she trying to fool here? The girl could talk about her favorite topics for hours on end.
"Bye, Mr. Grace."
Ryland sighed once Ellie left and closed the door behind herself. He ran a hand down his face and scratched at the stubble on his chin, trying to think of a solution to Ellie's issue.
The whole situation made him think about her father. Had Ryland even met the man? He wasn't sure. He remembered a woman bringing in Ellie on her first day. Maybe she was her father now. No, that can't be it. Ryland saw the woman in his local grocery store two days ago and they shared small talk for a few minutes. God, how he hated small talk. But hey, you can never know. It's never too late to figure things out about yourself.
He was away for a few days. That was so vague. Not that it was any of Ryland's business. Well, maybe this time it was. He needed his signature to let Ellie go on a school trip. So yes, he could be nosy for once, as much as he hated it. It was never any of his business what parents were doing outside of school, unless it was affecting the student's life negatively in any way.
"Ryland." The principal turned to the science teacher with a warm smile. "How can I help you?"
"Sorry to bother, Amber. I have a quick question for you regarding one of my student's attendance at the schooltrip next week." Ryland stood in the doorway, his hands pushed into his pockets awkwardly.
"Ofcourse. What seems to be the problem?" Her voice was warm and reassuring. This was definetly the kind of woman that should be a principal. The kids loved her, and that went the other way aswell.
"One of my students, Ellie Fisher can't get her permission slip signed by her father. He's out of town for the whole week." Ryland explained smoothly, trying his best not to stumble over his words.
"I see. Well.." Amber thought to herself in silence for a few seconds. She crossed her arms and leaned forward toward her desk. "Have you met the father? Do you have any connections with him?"
Ryland mirrored her stance and crossed his arms. He shook his head. "Ellie was brought in by a close friend of his on the first day. He hasn't been to a single parent-teacher conference, and Ellie's homeroom teacher, Zach told me he barely even responds to any Emails he sends."
"Well.. that is unfortunate. And I assume Ellie wants to go with the class to the museum?" Ryland nodded again. He took a few steps farther inside and closed the door halfway.
"We could take a chance and send out an Email to him. I assume you have the permission slip in file form?"
"I do, yes. I can ask Zach to forward me the Email and I can send Mr. Fisher an Email." Ryland offered, although he didn't really want to talk to Ellie's father. Based on his absence, he didn't seem like a very eason person to talk to. There were very little things that furiated Ryland more than absent parents. And Mr. Fisher seemed like one. God, why would you have kids just to ignore them?
Amber smiled, clasping her hands together and nodding. "Alright, then. If he says yes, then you are permitted to bring Ellie along."
Ryland felt a surge of pride. If this worked out, Ellie would be overjoyed. Atleast he was hoping. Actually, he needed to get a few things done before getting too happy about the situation.
"Amazing. Thank you." Ryland beamed at the woman, before turning on his feet to walk out of the office. As much as he liked talking to the woman, he had plenty of things to do. But the number one thing on his mind was to send the permission slip via Email to Ellie's father.
Would it be early for Ryland to start judging the man? What kind of single father doesn't show up to any of his kid's school activities? Well, Ellie's father apparently. Ryland didn't want to judge the book by it's cover, but it was hard not to. I mean, the problem was imminent. Did he just not care? Why would he adopt a daughter to not care about her after? The thought itself made Ryland's blood boil.
It raised more questions in him. Who was taking care of Ellie? Maybe - gosh, what was her name? Evelyn- no.. Eva? Gee, no.. oh! Ava! That's right, her name was Ava. Ryland felt dumb for not remembering her name. She had told him personally again two days prior. Gosh, him and his brain that worked like a sieve when it came to human interaction.
Was there a chance that Ava was taking care of Ellie? Ryland wasn't sure. He shouldn't be so nosy, but he couldn't help but worry about the girl. She has a really smart brain, and if she doesn't have support, she might start acting out and possibly become a troublemaker for attention. Ryland could instantly name some of his eight grade students who ended up like that.
There was no time to dwell on things. Ryland needed that permission by the next day, if Ellie wanted to come with. He needed to write to Ellie's father. Gee whiz, what was even his name? He hadn't read or heard it in so long that he wasn't even sure.
He started with his right arm, slipping it into the yellow raincoat. Then, with the help of his left elbow, he pushed the raincoat over the rest of his body. Yes, it was May, yes he was wearing a raincoat. Spring storms were no joke, and Ryland Grace PhD wasn't about to start experimenting with the weather today.
He hopped onto his bike and fixed the strap of his backpack, so it would be over both shoulders. He didn't want it to fall off. That happened once, not again. He still mourns the amount of work he lost on that laptop.
His bike ride took 20 minutes usually. Some days he rode slower than others. Not exactly because he was tired, just wanted to appriciate the early morning breeze or the sunset in the afternoon in winter. He never got his license, and it was better this way. Biking didn't only keep him in good health, but also it was far better for the environment.
He tried his best to always stay conscious about his carbon footprint, but when you're a college student it's hard to keep track of the amount of trash you throw away. He's not entirely proud of that time of his life, but hey, he finished school and got his PhD. That, and waking up in the morning, was his main goal during that period.
A loud screech caught Ryland's attention. He whipped his head to the left, following the sound. He had to squint, so the bright headlights wouldn't blind him on the spot.
It wasn't exactly dark outside, heck the sun wasn't even setting yet, but this dumbass driver had their headlights on full capacity. Jesus Christmas. Ryland groaned, whipping his head away and ignoring whatever was happening. He wasn't in the mood to play superhero.
On the other side of the road, two cars were stationary. One that almost blinded Ryland - and every passerby - which was a black Ford pickup-truck, and the other one was some beat-up gray car. Ryland didn't even glance at the type, just kept biking away from the scene.
The gray car's driver was furious, getting out of the car, and approaching the Ford's driver side. It wasn't visible because of the tinted windows, but the other driver didn't seem to be too bothered.
By the way the cars were on the road, it looked like the gray one swerved into the right lane - without a blinker, ofcourse - and the Ford couldn't break in time, because it was so out of the blue. The two cars collided, and the Ford seemed unharmed, while the other one's back license plate was hanging by a thread and the left back blinker was shattered. Not that he was using it. So the man who was 100% at fault for the collision was furious.
Ryland shook the thought out of his head and kept biking. His hands gripped the handles tighter, and he started biking faster. He got bad vibes from the place and wanted to leave the block as soon as possible.
It was 4 pm on a spring afternoon. Why was this guy getting all mad? Well, he probably didn't have insurance and wanted the other guy to pay for it. Ryland could smell it from all the way over there.
He could hear muffled yells, but only one voice. The driver of the gray car, he assumed.
"You- stupid-" Ryland could barely pick up on the dialouge as he was getting farther away from the scene. Good, it should be that way. The last thing he wanted is to get involved in whatever that was.
"Do you even have a brain in that head?"
Okay, that was a clear sentence. That made no sense. Why was he hearing the man clearly? He was only getting farther away, he should be hearing less, not more. Ryland shook his head briefly and kept biking. Something in the back of his head was screaming at him. Screaming to take a left and take the longer way home.
But no, his tired brain wasn't having it.
He kept going straight, keeping his pace stable, but slightly faster than his usual. This whole event was giving him the heebie jeebies. He didn't know why, but he wasn't one to ignore that feeling. Not fully, atleast.
"Stupid fucking asshole, doesn't even know the law. Well, I am the law. I make the rules, you fuckwit. Fucking watch me. You and your stupid fuck big boy car, you think you're so special, huh? That you can just crash my car and walk away harmless?"
Okay...
okay.
Ryland was definetly hearing him clearly now. God, he shouldn't look back, but it was killing him.
His feet slowed down slightly - the bicycle still moving, just slower now - and he turned to the right to look over his shoulder. He heard loud acceleration and yelling. Okay, that car was definetly coming closer. The same, beaten gray car that had gotten crashed minutes ago was almost aiming at the schoolteacher on a bike now.
What the fuck?
Ryland met the concrete hard. His vision went blank and he couldn't feel his limbs. Somehow, he managed to roll onto his back, groaning out in pain and trying to blink away the darkness.
His head was pounding and he was sure that if he would look down at his left arm, it would be visbily broken. God, let's not throw up right now thinking about that. Something warm and liquidy was swimming down his forehead in drops. The same warmth was enveloping his right knee. And then the stinging came. Fuck, it stung like nothing before. It took everything in him not to yell out in pain.
And then the tires started moving again. Ryland yelled. He tried to get out a coherent sentence, but it was straight up babbling. Yep, he had a concussion. His vision was coming back slowly, but his broken glasses weren't helping the case either.
Ryland could've sworn the car was moving toward him again. Was he going to run him over again? Fuck, he'd certainly die on the spot, being crushed by a car.
He tried to move, he really did. But his body was weak and felt limp everywhere. He just slumped back against the concrete, letting out a choked sob and shutting his eyes.
Yes, he was crying. Who wouldn't in a situation like this? He was going to die in seconds, let the man cry a little.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Another voice, deeper, not the same as before yelled. The car finally stopped rolling toward him. He let out a small sob, his chest heaving. He moved his head to the right, seeing someone calling an ambulance, hovering over him, and other people just standing by and watching in horror.
Then his head tilted to the left side. Fudge, even the smallest movements felt like running a whole marathon. He saw a dark-haired male, yelling at the driver. Who was he? Did Ryland know him? Maybe he did. His concussed brain couldn't tell anymore.
The dark-haired male was coherent, a little shorter than Ryland would be if he wasn't on the ground, and he was yelling at the driver. He was saying such profanities that the schoolteacher felt filthy just listening. Well, atleast someone was standing up for him. Pun intented.
Ryland - in his delusions - started smiling at the unkown man. Instead of worrying about his injuries, he was crying, smiling at the dark-haired male who was currently saying such things that Ryland hadn't ever heard leave a human's mouth before. It was beautiful. Almost heartwarming. Or maybe he was hallucinating, and he was smiling at thin air.
But his cries never stopped. He wasn't sobbing anymore, but the tears were certainly dripping down his face, occasionally mixing with blood that was doing the same. He didn't think it was too much lost, but it still was a good idea to get him to a hospital.
"Sir? Sir! Can you hear me?!"
Ryland looked up, facing the paramedic who was squatting over him. Ryland let out a sigh and gave such a weak nod he wasn't sure the paramedic even saw it.
"He's barely responsive." The man looked over his shoulders to the other paramedic.
Ryland smiled to himself and shut his eyes, sighing. Gosh, he was tired from all the work he'd been doing.
"Sir, we're gonna bring you to the hospital."
Ryland muttered out something that in his head was "okay", but in real life, it was definetly incoherent.
He felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher. He got strapped in, in four places and another paramedic placed an oxygen mask over his face. He tilted his head, forcing himself to look at the unknown man once more. His shoulder-length black hair, his black clothes, and the way he was yelling did something to Ryland's weird heart. He barely caught a glance at his face. The other man had glasses aswell, and stubble on his jaw that matched his hair color. Ryland was sure he would forget by the next day, but it was worth noting for now that he looked kind of cute.