Chapter Text
“Yes, my grandfather was Icelandic,” does not mean, “Of course I’ll show the new PE teacher around. We’ll obviously bond over shared heritage and language barriers.” Robert Rotterdam may only teach third grade language skills, and deals with the nonsense that children spout off on a regular basis, but he knew this. Knew it in his bones. Tried to tell Principal Meanswell this fact at least three times over the phone. But he was assigned to orientation duty anyway.
“My brother and his kids are settling into their new place this week,” the principal had said. Like that was an excuse for foisting his job on someone else.
For this reason, he tried very hard not to be grumpy about meeting a complete stranger at Lazytown Elementary at eight o’clock in the morning, a full week before the teacher inservice week that’s before the school year officially starts. He arrived in his good first-day-of-school shirt, dark circles under his eyes and a thermos in his hand, bracing himself for either a health nut who won’t even like kids or an unenthusiastic former athlete who busted a knee and needed a job. He’d seen three different PE teachers already, in his eight years at the school, and none were particularly inspiring.
What he found outside the main doors was, arguably, worse. Spencer Íþróttaálfurinn obviously held himself to a much laxer dress code than Robert did, as he wore blue tracksuit pants and an undershirt to his first day of work, and he was doing one-handed pushups on the front steps. Robert made a mental note to ignore the fact that track pants somehow flatter this man, took another swallow of coffee, and cleared his throat.
“Mr. Íþróttaálfurinn?”
The man looked up at him, shook a few blond curls off his forehead, and revealed the most ridiculous mustache Robert had ever seen over a charmingly sheepish grin. “Hello?” he asked, accent thick but smile unwavering.
Robert held out his right hand, and bit the inside his cheek before he spoke. “Robert Rotterdam. I’m supposed to show you around.”
“Oh, hello!” he said brightly, as if he hadn’t been counting in the two hundreds just a second before. Robert had never seen anyone move quite the way this stranger did. He managed to push himself up to a standing position, turn, pick up the drawstring backpack that had been on the ground next to him, and grab his hand to shake, all in one seamless motion. The handshake was strong enough to move Robert’s shoulder in circles and tweak that spot on his back, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “I’m Spencer,” he says. “Where do we start?”
It took a few moments for Robert to stabilize himself, but he managed. He bit harder at his cheek, and gestured to the doors. “I’ll give you a quick tour of the whole building,” he said, trying to smile a little. “You probably won’t need to remember most of it, but just in case…”
Spencer was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, bag over his shoulder, and his eyes were flicking between Robert and the doors. Robert took pity on him, and lead him inside, locking the front doors again behind him. They walked through the halls, Robert pointing out the main offices, the staff lounge, various classrooms, art room, music room, the ways to the gym and out to the playground, which he promised to show in detail later, and stopped them in front of the cafeteria.
Throughout the tour, Spencer had been quiet. He asked a few questions, but mostly just nodded along as Robert talked. Once they stopped though, Robert took a moment to ask, “Are you alright? Need a break?”
“Just some air, I think.” Spencer was bouncing again, and it was beginning to worry Robert a little bit. Was he just nervous, or what? Or what was starting to seem more likely.
“You sure?” Robert asked. His head was beginning to hurt, and he wasn’t even the nervous one today. “I’m about to make some more coffee, then I’ll show you the outside. Want any?”
Spencer just shrugged, but he followed Robert back to the staff room, and watched him fill the coffee machine and start it brewing. As Robert settled into his favorite armchair, an orange monstrosity that had been relegated to the corner, Spencer wandered idly around the room, munching on an apple that he had pulled from his bag, looking at the art on the walls, and finding the mail cubby with his name on it.
Robert pulled out two packages of hot chocolate mix from his pocket, and emptied them both into his thermos, then reached for another sugar packet. He nearly fell out of the chair when, from the other side of the room, Spencer asked, “Really, Robbie? That much sugar can’t be good for you.”
Ah. He was a health nut. Of course he was. Robert was not dealing with that today.
“Pretty sure I’d be worse off without it at this point,” Robert replied, with a laugh that even he could tell was trying just a lot too hard. The coffee machine was almost finished. Caffeine was imminent. “So…Robbie? Really?”
Spencer shrugged again, but watched in vague horror as Robert poured the coffee into his thermos, added a creamer, and stirred for a good two minutes so the chocolate powder would dissolve. “Is that okay?”
Robert mimicked his shrug, and took a long drink. It was completely placebo, he knew enough about biology to know that, but even so he felt more awake immediately. Awake enough to continue, even. “You wanted to see the outside?”
The walk out of the building and to the playground was not long, but the complete silence made it feel longer than usual. Once they were outside, though, Spencer perked up immediately. He looked over at Robert for a moment, with the same look the children gave when they just wanted to go run, and Robert rolled his eyes and waved him on. Spencer took off, ran a lap or two around the playground, then spotted the open fields that were just up a small rise. He went for an easy lap around them as well, then returned to Robert with a wide smile, and a spark in his eye that Robert hadn’t seen since his first hello.
“You don’t have to show me the fields,” Spencer said, earning another eye roll. “Let’s go to the gym now. I hear I have an office.”
Robert led him inside, biting his cheek again. Spencer didn’t need snark on his first day. “You are either going to get along incredibly well with the kids, or you’ll lose control of them in five minutes,” slipped out, though, and Robert sighed. That wasn't necessary.
“I hope the first one,” Spencer said, his smile faltering a little.
With a snort, and another eye roll that he couldn’t quite suppress, Robert said, “So do I, Mr. Íþróttaálfurinn. So do I.”
Spencer smiled a little wider at the name, then frowned. “What do I have the kids call me? They’re obviously not going to be able to pronounce that.”
“Well, what have you done before?”
“At the gym everyone just called me Spencer,” he said. “That’s not really how it works here, huh? And I will not be Mr. I. Tried that. Not good.”
Robert watched Spencer’s face screw up tight as he thought, and tried very hard to find a word other than adorable for it. This was a grown man, who could probably throw him through a window with one hand. He shouldn’t be adorable. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
“Oh, I will.”
They walked into the gym, and Robert half expected Spencer to go running off again, to tear around the gym in some insane fit to burn off even more energy. The man appeared to have a limitless supply, and was already bouncing on his toes again as he walked. But Spencer walked along the wall with him, stopping to find the buttons to raise and lower the basketball hoops, or to jump up on one of the pull-up bars on the wall, and frown when it moved under his weight. They didn’t talk much, as Robert had nothing to say, and Spencer was busy exploring. Only once he seemed satisfied with he perimeter of the gym itself did Robert lead him over to the far corner, where there was a short hallway. There were two doors on either side, and the hallway ended with double doors that opened onto the parking lot.
“Locker rooms,” he said, pointing to the doors on the right. “Well, glorified bathrooms, but whatever. This one is your office.” Robert pushed open the first door on the left to show Spencer a small room, with a desk, a chair, and a whiteboard that hadn’t been properly cleaned. He grimaced at the bright white walls, made even more painful by the cheap fluorescent lighting. “Obviously, you’ll be able to do some decorating, make the place yours.”
Spencer walked in with wide eyes, and didn’t say anything for a minute or so. He just stared for a few minutes, then took a few long steps across the room to the back wall, then from side to side, his eyes narrow and his lips pressed together into a tight line. Just as Robert was starting to worry, he nodded, ginning widely. “Yes, this will do.”
While Robert was still processing the sudden return to cheerful puppy mode, Spencer grabbed the two keys off of his new desk, and held them up. “What are these for?” he asked, squinting at them for a second before tossing them back and forth in his hands.
“The bigger one is your master key,” Robert said, as he watched the keys fly back and forth. “It locks your office, and also gets you into classrooms, the lounge, or through any of the hall doors if they ever lock. Which would only be in an emergency. You’ll go through all that next week. The other one is for the equipment room.”
At Spencer’s questioning look, Robert gestured back out towards the hallway, then led the way over to the last door, next to the office. Spencer fumbled a little with the unfamiliar keys, but unlocked the door without any difficulty. The tennis balls that bounced innocently out of the door as soon as it opened struck Robert as not a particularly good sign.
“Okay, this is going to take some work,” Spencer said as he opened the door wider. He tossed a disappointed look over his shoulder, as if the mess inside was Robert’s fault, and took a deep breath before entering. Robert followed warily.
The previous PE teacher had clearly had a system. Unfortunately, that system appeared to be to stuff everything in the nearest convenient spot when done with it. There were boxes and crates full of various balls, bats, jump ropes, bowling pins, and even a pile of snowshoes. Everything was sorted by item, but there were no labels, no system of putting like items together or winter stuff with winter stuff or any system beyond keep all the soccer balls together and make it all fit. Robert cringed.
Spencer was standing in the middle of everything, hands on his hips, apparently cataloguing what he had. “I’m going to have to clean up a little,” he said, shaking his head a little.
“Yeah, well, you have almost two weeks,” Robert replied. He then stepped back out of the room, and leaned against the cool cinderblock wall outside the door. Spencer followed a minute later. “So, that’s the tour. I assume you’ll be meeting up with Mr Meanswell before inservice, and he can probably answer any questions you have better than me, but if you do need anything, you can always ask. Preferably before the kids are here. I’ll actually be here for a while this afternoon if you think of anything.”
Spencer nodded once, his smile smaller now.
“I’m over in the third grade wing, if you need me,” Robert said, pointing. “Down that hall, all the way, then left. My door has my name on it.”
The man laughed a little. “Okay. I think I got it. For now, at least.”
Robert just stood, awkwardly for a moment, before stuttering a hasty goodbye. He then stomped down the hallway as fast as he could go, muttering to himself that he should really just not offer, it’s not like Spencer will ever want his help. Besides, as soon as the other teachers get a load of him, they'll be lining up to answer his questions.
Turning the corner felt like coming home, in an odd, not-really-but-kinda way. These walls, these windows, were familiar. Robert took a deep breath, and unlocked the door to his room. It was exactly the same as he left it.
He settled in quickly at his desk to make new labels for the coat closet, where each student will have a cubby and a hook, and quizzed himself on the attendance list even though he knew it would be all for naught as soon as the kids were actually there. From there, he made name cards, to be set on desks. The kids will make their own later, of course, but he’ll need some way to mark seating assignments on the first day.
When the cards were done, he turned back to the list. How to do it, this year? Alphabetical is easy, but boring. Alphabetical by first name? No, he has two Ryans, three Bens, a Kirsten and a Kristen, and that will just get too confusing. Birthdays? Hmm…
A knock on the door interrupted him just as he was sorting his list by birthday. It was Spencer, peeking in sheepishly, blond curls darker from sweating. Why Robert was surprised was beyond him, as Spencer was actually the only other human in the building, but he still did a quick double take.
“Need something?” Robert asked, raising an eyebrow.
Spencer slid around the door, and walked up to the desk, his smile hopeful. “Not right now,” he said, looking around at the posters and empty spaces. “I just thought, well…”
Robert’s eyebrow went higher. “What? Just spit it out.”
“Can I have your phone number?” Spencer held up his cell phone, which was an alarming shade of blue, and wiggled it. “I just thought that, well, I don’t have any questions now, but I’ll think of something as soon as I get home, and then forget to ask when I see you. And then I won’t know. But if I could just text you when I think of something…?”
Robert just stared at him for a minute, then held out a hand and said, “Fine. Give it here.”
That dumb smile stretched into a grin, and eyes lit up. Spencer passed over his phone, with a new contact already set up, and the phone number bar selected. Robert entered his cell quickly, passed it back, and leaned back into his chair.
“That it?”
“Yes, I think so.” Spencer kept grinning, and headed back to the door. “I’ll text you in a second, so you’ll have my number too. See you next week!”
“Good-bye,” Robert said, half-heartedly, after he’d gone. Then he shuddered. “And good luck with that mess.”
His phone dinged a minute later, with a text message from an unknown number. It merely said ‘Thank you’, and was signed with a smily face, complete with a mustache.