HelloI'mPhee

The students were sitting close, the history class next door piled in for the period. The bell rang and Ryland clapped his hands, lifting one in the air. All eyes went straight to him, chatter dying down quickly. He perched on the corner of his desk, smile wide as he introduced each speaker. “They’ve graciously agreed to share their time and work with all of us this morning, which means we’re going to be what?”

A chorus of “respectful!” rings through the room. It was impressive, how in control he seemed to be of so many middle schoolers. The photographer went first, showing the kids their best, and silliest, animal photos. They ate it up, laughing at a photo of a bird pooping in midair. Ryland stood next to you off to the side, hiding his grin behind his hand. The presentation ended up being a great refresher on animal sciences, which the kids didn’t expect from the artist of the group. 

The nurse was next, she gave a beautiful speech about getting to help people every day, how she loved supporting moms through the scary moments and the joyful ones. It brought tears to your eyes hearing how passionate she was about her patients. You caught the history teacher wiping her cheek, a small smile shared between you two. You figured she must have kids, you didn’t have that excuse though. 

The firefighter decided to go the comedy route, laughing his way through a story about having to save someone who climbed a tree to save a cat. He got them both down safely, using it as a stepping stone to talk about how firefighters have to be brave for everyone around them. He let the kids pass around his helmet and showed them how quickly he has to be able to suit up. The helmet eventually landed on Ryland’s head, making the students giggle as he puffs out his chest and says, “you know what, I do feel brave in this!”

Then it was your turn. As an architectural engineer, you knew you wanted to get the kids excited about design, so you brought in a model of a new lab your team was working on. You talked about the importance of being able to blend beautiful structure with sound math and things like ventilation, because a pretty building is nothing if it’s not safe. The kids had really thoughtful questions about accessibility and standards of design. It surprised you, how attentive they were.

You expected some teasing from them considering that they knew you were dating their teacher, but they were nothing but respectful the whole period. When you finished, Ryland jumped in and raised his hand again, “what do we say to our guests?” A rousing “thank you!” followed, making you laugh. The bell rang and that was it.

 A few students stayed after class to talk to you all individually, asking more in-depth questions that made you excited for their future prospects. These kids were smart, now you understand why Ryland loved science fair season at the school.

When the last student finally ran off, the firefighter approached you. He was flirting, you could tell immediately, but you didn’t want to be rude, so you smiled along until you could find an out. He told you about his son Mason, briefly mentioned being divorced, and finally asked about your life. You could feel eyes on you from across the room, you knew Ryland was watching. He wouldn’t intervene unless you asked for help, but that doesn’t mean he’s not acutely aware of the unwanted advances you’re currently facing. 

The man asked for your number, a charming smile on his face. You held in a sigh and kept your face neutral, “oh, I actually have a boyfriend.” You kept it simple, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “You do?” He asks, brows raising. Before you have a chance to say anything, though, you feel an arm slide around your shoulder. You turn your head and see Ryland, other hand on his hip and a big smile on his face. 

“Thank you for coming today, the kids were so engaged,” he says it to you, then turns to the firefighter. “Seriously, they loved getting to meet you.” 

The man covers his surprise quickly, reaching out to shake his hand. “It was my pleasure, Mr. Grace,” and he exchanges a few pleasantries before excusing himself. 

You turn to Ryland with your brows raised, a smirk playing on your lips. “Ryland,” you start, “was that a little jealousy I heard?” He meets your eye and shrugs, “Mason’s dad is freshly divorced and maybe too eager to find a new wife.” You laugh softly, shaking your head and stepping away. “I was in the middle of turning him down, but thank you for saving me the trouble,” and you kiss his cheek. 

~

It’s not until the next evening that Ryland has stories for you. He comes home with a huge grin plastered on his face, barely even getting his coat off before he’s calling for you. “You’ll never guess what Mason told me this morning,” he corners you on the couch. “Apparently, his dad asked him about you yesterday.” Your eyes go wide, not knowing what to expect when the story was coming from a 13 year old. 

“Mason said, and I quote, ‘don’t worry, Mr. Grace, I shut that shit down so fast. My dad isn’t going anywhere near Mrs. Grace.’” A laugh rumbles out of him, shaking the couch cushion. You gasp, “he said that?!” 

“Yeah! And then he had to put his name in the swear jar because what the fuck, Mason!” It always makes you laugh when Ryland swears, it sounds so unnatural coming from his mouth. You had rubbed off on him a little, but he really tries to keep it to the confines of the apartment. 

“He’s a good kid,” you throw your legs over his, “he had great questions yesterday.”

He nods, “oh! One of the girls sent me an email with questions for you, said she was interested in how what she’s learning in her electronics class might roll over into what you do.” He pulls out his phone, forwarding you the email.

“Aw, a little engineer in the making,” you smile. “She’s like, insanely smart. Her last paper was on hydroponics, she brought a basil plant in for the window, it’s growing like crazy! No soil!” He gestures wildly, like he can’t believe she’s keeping it alive in his classroom. 

You can’t help the soft look on your face, eyes shining as he brags about his students. When he finally looks at you he freezes, “what?” It’s a gentle question, timid, even. “Nothing, just - thank you for including me yesterday, it was nice seeing you in your element,” you smile, reaching for his hand. 

He plants a kiss to the back of your hand and you feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “A couple of the girls cornered me this morning,” he looks away bashfully, “they said I needed to buy you a ring today because I’d be crazy to let you go.” 

“Yeah?” Your voice is quiet, “I’m not going anywhere, Ry.”

He finally turns to look at you, “Would you… would you want to get married?” He’s nervous, it’s sweet, you think. 

You can’t help the wide smile that breaks across your face, it eases his nerves instantly. “Mm, I think I would.”

He nods, lips stretching into the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen on him. “I’ll do it properly, the ring, one knee, nice dinner somewhere pretty.”

“I don’t need anything grand, you know. Just you, whatever feels right to you.” 

He shifts to pull you in by the back of your neck, lips landing on yours in a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you,” he says your name like a prayer, holding eye contact like it’ll express everything he feels. “I love you too, Ryland,” you whisper against his lips, feeling his smile against your skin.  

He’s quiet for a moment, just enjoying the closeness. Then he shifts again, “okay, so the girls were showing me different rings, they made it sound so complicated.” You laugh, nodding, “I’ll show you what I like, but I want you to pick it out.” 

And you know that he will absolutely be showing those middle school girls the rings he’s considering for their opinions. You trust their judgement, it’s gotten you two this far, anyway.

--------------------------

“Thank you so much,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a chaste peck to your cheek. 

A chorus of “ew,” “aw,” and gasps rumble through the class. Ryland closes his eyes for a moment before turning around to face the excited middle schoolers. Before he could say anything, though, one of the girls points forcefully in your direction, “that’s your girlfriend?!” 

“No way Mr. Grace pulled her,” another joined in.

“There’s a Mrs. Grace?!”

“There really is hope for all of us,” a boy laughs. 

“Wait, she’s hot!” They were all talking over each other, a mix of compliments to you and barely concealed insults toward their teacher. 

“Hey!” Ryland starts, clinging to what was left of his dignity. You wave to the room, introducing yourself with a grin. You were absolutely going to make fun of him tonight, and he knew it too. He was bright red but he fixed the students with a serious look, “back to your work, everyone.”

They didn’t even pretend to look at their papers, too interested in this new side of their silly science teacher that they never got to see. Ryland turns back to you, stepping through the doorway and leading you away from the windows with a hand on your lower back. “This is all they’re going to talk about today,” he sighs. You stifle a laugh and point behind him.

The kids were lined up against the window, pressing their faces close to the glass to try to get a glimpse of you two. He doesn’t even turn around, “I owe you dinner for these,” he shakes the papers still in his hand. “You’re not cooking in my kitchen,” you giggle.

“Takeout it is,” he smiles, landing one more quick kiss to your lips before he steps backwards, steeling himself for the torment he was about to walk back into. You whisper your goodbyes and laugh to yourself when you hear his voice carry through the hallway, “don’t think I won’t lower your grades on these papers!” 

~

He beats you home that evening, an array of Chinese food already set up on the table when you slink through the door. Ryland is in the kitchen fighting with that one drawer that just doesn’t open right. Loose sweatpants sit low on his hips, a big difference from his work clothes you last saw him in. “Hey! How was your day?” He’s chipper, the day must not have been so bad. 

“Same old, I’m more interested in your day, Mr. Grace.” You step beside him, opening the drawer and kissing his cheek. He fishes out the chopsticks you always use and ushers you to the table, he pulls out your chair and can’t help but drop a kiss to the top of your head. “My day,” he starts with a sigh, “was exactly what you expect with a bunch of middle schoolers who just found out that I have a beautiful girlfriend.” 

You giggle softly, opening the boxes in front of you and assessing just how much food he ordered. “Come on, I want details! If anyone is going to have good jokes it’s your students.”

“First it was the lingo, they called me unc and said something about pulling a baddie,” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Then they said you were way out of my league, asked how I convinced you to give a nerd like me a chance.” You let out a belly laugh at that, knowing full well you were head over heels for him the first time you met. “Did you tell them that I’m a nerd too?”

“In so many words, but they wouldn’t have it. They decided that you’re the breadwinner of the relationship, something about being a CEO or owning a business,” he’s giggling now, too. “I told them you’re an engineer and Abby asked if you work for Lockheed Martin.” You gasped, choking out a laugh. “How does she know about them?”

“Her parents talk about a lot in front of her,” it’s said wistfully, like he wishes they would stop. “Then, they started using words I didn’t know. I wrote them down, hold on.” He grabs his phone, opening his notes app. “They said I’m ‘high-key a simp,’” a snort from you, “Tyler said, ‘Mr. Grace been hiding his rizz,’ which felt inappropiate coming out of a child’s mouth.” His turn to snort. 

“Oh! Jenny called me the Beaker to your Dr. Bunsen, that’s a crazy reference for a 13 year old!” That one bowled you over, you threw your head back with a loud laugh. “I still don’t know what this one means,” he holds his phone far from his face, pretending to struggle to read, “‘Mr. Grace lowkey ohio, but his girlfriend has goddess energy.’” He looks at you exasperatedly, “I’ve gotta ask their English teacher to translate all of this.” 

“I don’t mind ‘goddess energy,’” you wink at him. “The girls all agreed on that one, so I think it’s universally accepted,” he smiled softly at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “My favorite one, though, was someone said we’re like fix-it Felix and that soldier lady Jane Lynch voiced in Wreck It Ralph.” 

“Stop! They did not say that!” Your cheeks hurt from laughing so much at this point. “They did! I think it was a disguised way to say that you’re out of my league again,” he’s so enamored with the way you’re laughing, he almost wishes he had more quips to read out. “I told them that one doesn’t work because Felix is shorter than the soldier, then they said I give short aura and that insecurity about being a ‘short king’ is a bad look. I’m six feet tall!” You’re struggling to catch your breath, you loved these kids so much and you’d only just met them. 

“That was a lot for one class period,” you wipe your eyes, food totally forgotten on the table. “Yeah, we didn’t get much work done,” he sighs dramatically. 

He hesitates a little to tell you the next part, his ears burning when you notice the look on his face. “They- uh, they exclusively referred to you as Mrs. Grace, despite how many times I told them that we’re not married.” Your cheeks heat up at that, “that’s sweet of them.” The moment stretches, longing in his eyes that you recognize. He’s never brought marriage up before, but he often talks about spending the rest of your lives together. One thing about Ryland is that he’s a loverboy, it’s one of your favorite parts of him. You lay your hand on top of his, a gentle comfort after a long day of torment.

“Anyways, now that they know you exist, they’re going to ask to see you again. Maybe you could come in for career day? Tell them about the importance of paying attention when their teacher is talking,” he looks a little shy, it reminds you of how he looked when he first asked you out. 

“I’d love to do that, Ry, you just let me know when it is and I’ll make sure my schedule is clear.” Your smile is bright, excitement shining through at being included. “Yeah?” His expression is hopeful. “Yeah, I’ve gotta prove that they’re right, I am the breadwinner in this relationship,” you don’t even have time to laugh before he’s pulling you out of your chair and over his shoulder. He lands a hand against your thighs, ignoring your squeals. 

“You’re right, I’ve gotta earn my keep,” and he carries you all the way to the bedroom, “happy wife, happy life and all that.”

------------