Dr. Mel King enthusiast

June 7th, 2027 Dear Mel,

I emailed Leanne and she gave me a written prompt for this, but she said she wouldn’t give me a rubric because she’s “not grading me.” Sounds fake but ok. Here’s the prompt:

Write a letter to Mel that explains why you feel upset and what you would like to happen to repair your relationship. What are the things you feel like you’ve been holding inside? What do you wish she understood? What do you want to hear from her?

I guess I can start with what I feel like I’ve been holding inside.

Melissa (?? What's your middle name?) King, I am in love with you. I know it’s weird to say that when we don’t have that kind of a relationship and I don’t know that you even like me as a friend anymore, but that’s really the only word for how you’re embedded in my heart. I’ve been in love before, but this is the first time that I feel like being in love is actively making me a better person. You are such an easy person to love, because everything you touch and everywhere you go is better for you being there. You make me want to be my best self. It’s actually insane how much you’ve improved my life in ways that you don’t even know, because I have this little voice in my head reminding me of you all the time. (Mel would want you to eat dinner. Mel wouldn’t want you to relapse. Mel thinks you’re a good teacher, no matter what Robby says.) Maybe that’s not healthy (Leanne? care to chime in?), but I swear it started when I was already doing pretty ok, so it’s not like my imagined version of you is the only thing standing between me and benzos or something. It’s more like even the thought of you, or how I perceive you I guess, is enough to make me a better person (teacher, father, man). 

Other things I’ve been holding back: so many dumb fucking names. I don’t even remember calling Abby anything other than babe, although that might just be because I have a bad memory or something, but I swear I’ve almost called you honey or sweetheart or baby like 100 times. I know it would be weird. I’m not saying you should let me do that because it’s not like that’s a thing friends do and I don’t know if you even want to be friends, but it’s something that I’ve been bottling up. 

I don’t want to write too much about this because it feels weird, but you are so fucking hot. It’s so distracting. Like, your voice is so hot? It’s always lower than I expect, which isn’t something I knew I’d like but it’s just so you. Idk. I bet you wear like sports bras all the time and even that’s hot. Your hair is so beautiful. I have this weird recurring dream where you let me wash your hair (not in the shower or anything porn-y, like at a salon with the special sink things) and then brush it and then braid it, but I know all these different ways to braid hair in my dream, so you let me try different things out and then you look in the mirror and say “oh wow, is that really me?” and it’s like a fucking Taylor Swift music video or something because you see what I’ve seen the whole time and finally know how beautiful you are. (I was weak and did teach myself to braid and French braid in the winter, but I have stopped myself from learning how to do the Leia hair buns because there is no plausible reason for me to know how to do.) You’re so gorgeous and it’s not because you don’t think you’re pretty (which is dumb, fuck you one direction), it’s just because you’re you. I don’t think you do know it though and that’s pretty fucked up. 

I guess that leads to things I wish you understood. Hmm. There’s so many. I wish you understood how wonderful you are, because it seems like you never really accept compliments or think the other person is just saying that. I wish you understood that there are people who want to help, that you don’t have to do everything alone. I wish you understood that you deserved to have a childhood where you were actually a kid, not just Becca’s friend or caretaker or whatever. I think all the time about the fact that you only cried once when you had lice and then felt bad that it set Becca off because what the fuck? You were a kid. You should’ve been able to cry as loud and long as you needed to. I know you love your parents so much and I wish you understood that they could have been trying their best and still not done enough to see and support you and that it’s not dishonoring their memories to say that. Actually I think saying things like that helps make it clear that they’re real people, because real people get things wrong and mess up, and when we flatten people into just good or bad we lose parts of them. I wish you understood that you’re an exceptional special educator, but you’re so much more than that. You’re just a great person, all around, and it’s not just because of the things you do. You can rest and take breaks and still be good. That’s actually an important part of not burning out. I think you and I are both kind of hypocrites about things like that because we’re good at saying stuff to our students that we don’t actually follow, but it’s really really true about this. 

I started kind of backwards, if we’re going by the prompt, so I’m going back to the first question now. I’m upset with you, Mel. I think that’s good and healthy, actually, on some level, because it’s like what I said about your parents - you aren’t just perfect all the time about everything, and if I thought that, I wouldn’t be seeing the real you, because the real you is messy and imperfect, just like all people. (I mean, not just like all people. You’re the best of us. And I still kind of think you’re perfect, even when you make mistakes, but we can get into that later.) But you’ve kind of been a dick to me, and it really hurts. 

I’ve been going over it and over it in my brain since I first started feeling like things were weird over spring break, and I still have no idea where things went wrong. Not to be too dramatic, but the month and change we were carpooling and talking and being friends was probably one of the happiest times in my life. I really love spending time with you, however that looks. But then something happened, and the only thing I’ve been able to come up with that makes any sense at all is that you realized how I feel about you and it made you feel uncomfortable.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this (duh) and I don’t think I have the right words still but I guess that’s the point of a letter you aren’t going to send. (Dammit Leanne. You win again. But also can I get like top marks for this? Cause I think I’m doing a great job.)  I really can’t apologize for having feelings for you, because I’m not sorry about it (see above paragraph about how it makes me a better person). I also literally can’t think of like a single thing I did in the immediate lead up to spring break that crossed any lines?? And given my recent Apology Tour (TM), I know that blanket apologies aren’t very meaningful, and you have to know what you’re apologizing for in order to make it land or stick. (Sorry for the mixed metaphors.) What I can apologize for, with my whole heart, is making you feel like I’m somebody you can't talk to about this situation and how you feel about me. I have clearly done something that made you feel like I’m not a person who you can share feedback with, and that makes me very sad. I know I can be impulsive or emotional (and I know you’d say something about ADHD here), but I also like to think that I’m someone who takes a beat to reflect and apologize and try again if needed. In fact, I kind of thought that was something I was kind of good at, with you? Like stopping and listening and trying to actually understand what you’re thinking. 

Oops, none of that was responding to the prompt!! Back on topic: I guess I feel upset that you didn’t feel like you could talk to me, not just about the schedule change for next year, but also about whatever’s been bothering you. I know you’ve been on your own for a long, long time, and that you’ve had a lot of trouble believing that other people want to help you, but that isn’t an excuse for lying to me (you could’ve just said you wanted some space over break???) or withholding information from me (which, not to be petty, is something you got mad at me for when I did it about Terrance’s transfer). 

What I think would repair the relationship—by which I mean both professional relationship and friendship—is just fucking talking to me instead of running away and lurking in the library and using Mohan as a shield. I don’t understand what you think is going to happen if we’re alone in the same room to actually address the fucking elephant. Do you think I’m mean? That I’ve forgotten all the things I’ve learned about you all year? Or maybe you’ve just never been in the wrong before and you don’t want me to call you out? I just want to know what’s going on, Mel. I swear I can be nice about it.

Ok just to round it out, some things I’d love to hear from you: I love you, too, Frank! I’ve actually been freaking out because I realized we might have something real and special and I didn’t know how to handle it. 

Just kidding! (I mean. I would love that. But I should be realistic here.) I know this question is actually like, what questions would I want you to answer, right? 

So some questions I have for you, besides the ones I’ve already asked although I might repeat some for emphasis: What the fuck is going on? Am I crazy or do you also think we’re insanely good at co-teaching together? Why is it so hard for you to believe Max has a crush on you? (Especially since you apparently saw that fucking confessions post!!) Do you want to teach with Santos? Actually, backing up, do you even know about the shit between us, or me and Robby, and why this would be especially upsetting to me? What did I do that made you think you couldn’t talk to me? Do you know it’s important to actually feel your feelings and not just ignore them? Do you know it’s ok to do things for yourself instead of always putting everyone else first?

And just because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t try to be a little funny (as Charlie would say, try being the operative word), some other questions I have, in no particular order: What’s your middle name? When Becca said I was handsome, was that because you had called me handsome before? If so, what were the precise circumstances and/or is there something I should be doing in particular to make you think I’m hot? (Tank top?????) When’s the last time you went to the doctor, dentist, and eye doctor? Where do you put your lanyard when you’re not at school?

Leanne, you crazy sonuvabitch, I hate that this was kind of cathartic after all.

Yours, (like. literally. yours) Frank

June 9th Dear Mel,

I’ve just received an email from you that is either a coded plea for help and I’m too stupid to save your life (God I hope not) or a shockingly earnest and professional way to tell me that you do not, in fact, hate me. I would very much like to discuss this with you on the phone, but you are NOT ANSWERING. Given that you aren’t doing that, I’ve decided to do Extra Credit therapy homework (that exists, right, Leanne?).

PICK UP YOUR PHONE!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!

I will now conduct a Close Reading (TM) of your batshit insane email to try to understand you because you MAKE NO SENSE (you’re gold because you’re sunshine and #1 and I’m blue because it’s my favorite color. I don’t deserve to be in the same zip code as you what the fuck)

Hi Robby! shockingly positive way to start what turned out to be a savage takedown

After considering your request ooooook so i guess it really wasn’t your idea?? after the last department meeting about programming and co-teaching assignments, I’d like to request to be placed with Mr. Langdon again for the coming school year. swoon I have several reasons for this request, which I’ve separated into the following sections: Changes to Routine, ELL Support, and Co-Teaching Relationships. your BRAIN

Changes to Routine

Firstly, switching from Mr. Langdon to Ms. Santos would represent the third year in a row that I change co-teachers, which is something I would prefer to avoid. fucking duh you shouldn’t have to say that?? Effective co-teaching requires the teachers to get to know and trust each other, which is challenging to keep doing with new people each year. so you do still trust me?? While this would be difficult for most special educators, it’s especially challenging for me due to my Autism. As you probably remember from working together last year, it takes me a while to adjust to change, and I appreciate any efforts to minimize change when it’s within our control. this is so smart as a tactic because you’re not naming this as an accommodation request or saying anything about the ADA or whatever but it’s There beneath the surface as a potential way to escalate this. chef’s kiss 

ELL Support

In our conversation, you mentioned that there is a larger population of ELLs coming into 10th grade next year than we’ve had before and expressed that those students would benefit from both being in Ms. Santos’s class (due to her Spanish proficiency) and having support from two teachers. While I’m sure that Ms. Santos has done a wonderful job supporting ELLs in her classes in the past, LOL I do not have any background in ESL or how to support ELLs, BECAUSE IT’S LITERALLY A DIFFERENT JOB nor, to my knowledge, does Ms. Santos, beyond her language proficiency. Mr. Langdon, however, is taking steps to learn both Spanish and Portuguese (since there is a 9th grader from Angola who speaks Portuguese) ok i will say that there is a difference between maintaining a duolingo streak and signing up for an intensive language class so it’s kind of funny to see these things side by side but i appreciate the hype AND will be completing ESL coursework this summer. ok this like lowkey made me sound badass thank you Based on this information, I believe it would be best for ELLs to be placed with Mr. Langdon, not Ms. Santos, and they can receive co-taught support from me in his (our) class. his (our) class will haunt me to my dying days. chills. what if we got matching tattoos where yours says his (our) and mine says her (our). too soon? I was surprised to learn that Mr. Langdon hadn’t had an opportunity to share this information with you and that leaders in the building are unaware of the steps he’s taking to support our students. because robby never even SURVEYED US about our teaching preferences for next year!!! he just said to "talk" to him!! guess what i don’t feel super comfortable doing? talking to robby. great system buddy (yo told me shamsi sent a google form survey to the math dept in FEBRUARY it is JUNE)

Co-Teaching Relationships

Finally and most importantly, I believe it would be a disservice to both us and our students to separate me and Mr. Langdon as co-teachers. BOTH US AND OUR STUDENTS Mr. Langdon and I have built the kind of co-teaching relationship I had previously only read about in research or heard about from my professors. WHAT KIND OF CO-TEACHING RELATIONSHIP IS THAT The research emphasizes that an unintended benefit of co-teaching is often the opportunity for students to see adults interacting with each other and modeling effective communication and cooperation, beyond the pedagogical benefits of having multiple teachers to work with students. ok but it’s hilarious because our personal communication is so bad (joke :( it’s not hilarious :( )  From our first day together, Mr. Langdon has been able to communicate with me more effectively than almost anyone in my life , WHAT and we are able to switch off leading instruction and supporting individual students with minimal interruptions to instruction. hell yeah I think it's especially important for our Autistic students to see this kind of successful communication between us. this is so beautiful wtf

ok but seriously it is BAFFLING that i am apparently effective at communicating with you bc you seem to think i’m saying like the exact opposite of what i’m actually saying half the time (outside the classroom)

In the foundational text of my Pedagogy and Special Education seminar, Jortveit & Kovač established that the two pillars of “co-teaching that works” are the “cognitive ‘contract’” (“common ground concerning basic educational principles”) and “emotional ‘consonance’” (“mutual recognition, shared enthusiasm and emotional flexibility” / “positive interaction and harmony”) between co-teachers (2022). It has been my honor and pleasure to build both of these with Mr. Langdon this year. this is actually insane what do you MEAN you feel like we have HARMONY when you won’t LOOK AT ME

(but also...because this is really just for me, with the disclaimer that i would not actually say this to you, you are so hot when you talk research)

For the “cognitive ‘contract,’” we began the year already aligned on values and priorities inside the classroom. Merging our week 1 plans was almost seamless because we had such similar approaches to creating systems and getting to know students. On the rare occasion that we’ve disagreed about the substance of an issue in our classes, we have always been able to discuss it and figure out a compromise. this is such a great way to put it. we’re just like always on the same page, even how we decide we need to change the scope & sequence after a lesson. same brain

I don’t believe I had ever experienced “emotional ‘consonance’” with somebody before working with Mr. Langdon this year. We have built a strong co-teaching relationship founded on mutual trust, respect, and productive reflection. what It is, simply put, the best professional relationship I’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing. WHAT Working alongside Mr. Langdon has helped me overcome challenges that would have previously overwhelmed me, and I learn every day from him. please provide examples to substantiate these claims because WHAT I believe this has been clear to our students, too, who benefit from our different but complementary approaches. you right

I hope that this has made it clear why I believe that Mr. Langdon and I should co-teach together again next year and continue building what we started this year. I mean no disrespect towards Ms. Santos, who I am sure is an excellent teacher, and I look forward to continuing to work alongside her on our course team. so diplomatic :)

I look forward to your response and a discussion about what will be best for both students and staff in the 2027-28 school year. ugh and bringing it back to “both students and staff”...i feel god in this chili’s (my living room at 3am)

Reference List  there is simply nothing else to say besides: talk dirty to me baby

Jortveit, M., & Kovač, V. B. (2022). Co-teaching that works: special and general educators’ perspectives on collaboration. Teaching Education, 33(3), 286–300. https://doi.org/10.1080/10476210.2021.1895105

Further Reading.......

in conclusion PLEASE PICK UP YOUR PHONE AHhhhHHHHHHH do you like me because ti kind of sounds like you like me?????? what do yu mean i communicate more effectively than anyone in your life????? 

He remembers her from his last day, of course, before everything exploded in his face: how bright her smile was, both before and after the most boring meetings in the world; how shocked she looked when he included her in his side comments or explained something to her, like she had never expected that someone would think of or remember her; how excited she was to explain some minutiae of IEPs during the department meeting that went over almost everyone else’s head; how she trailed off into a quiet “um, sorry” when she realized that her comment wasn’t landing; how something about her silence after that made him want to hug her against his chest and stop anyone else from saying anything mean to her, since it looked like she was bracing herself for everyone to basically open fire on her.

He can’t pretend he wasn’t annoyed when he saw that he was slated for not one, but two co-taught sections of Chemistry and one section of Honors, meaning he’lll have three different lessons to prep each day—AP, Honors, and regular Chem all move differently enough that he’ll have different worksheets and tests and everything—and hey, technically it’s a contract violation to stick him with this many preps. He could try to file a grievance demanding they show they did “everything possible” to keep the number down, but not even he’s enough of an idiot to try to file a grievance on his first week back. 

(That said...imagine Robby’s fucking face if he did that. It might be worth it?)

(On the other hand, imagine Leanne’s face. Damn.)

Anyway, he was annoyed to have the schedule that he has and, if he’s being fully honest, which he’s trying to practice but boy is it hard, he was even a little annoyed that he would have to share his classroom with her. She seems like the type to hate the piles of papers that somehow accumulate and multiply throughout the year. He can already imagine how bad he’ll feel if he’s doing something that stresses her out, but he genuinely has no idea how to stop the paper piles from reproducing around the room. 

He was mostly annoyed because he felt like Robby was telling him that he didn’t trust him to be able to teach on his own, that he needed somebody else watching him, but he let go of that pretty immediately, when it became clear that nobody was checking in with Mel about how she’s doing, let alone how her co-teacher is doing.

He mostly loves having a therapist who worked in education for so long—even if it also freaks him out a little, that Leanne could have been such a great teacher for years and then burnt out enough to need to switch careers and then be a therapist for long enough to also be a great therapist—because it often feels like Leanne just gets things about being a teacher that he doesn’t have words for: how the bell schedule keeps him moving with purpose instead of going in circles in his head; how the variety of tasks he always needs to do helps him stay focused, because he can bounce to something new when he starts fading; how he can be having a terrible morning and feel completely empty but somehow perk right the fuck up the second a student appears, like his brain and body are reset by their mere presence or, more likely, the way they expect him to be a competent, functional adult or, as Leanne put it, their “implicit trust” that he knows what to do next.

The hard part of having a therapist who gets it is that she gets it. She asks questions that get to the heart of his anxieties and unearth truths he doesn’t want to face. And this is all before she’s even met with him during the actual school year, Jesus.

In their last session before professional development was going to start, Leanne asked him what he usually said his why was, the dreaded, cliche question that admin and teacher prep programs and leaders from the district—basically, the people he has to interact with who don’t, themselves, teach kids—always invoke during trite presentations, especially during week 0: What is your why? What brought you to the classroom, and what keeps you there?

Before he could even shoot her an unimpressed look, Leanne had emphasized that she wanted to know what he said his why was, not whatever it was that actually drove him.

“The kids,” Frank sighed, crossing his arms. He felt a little like his body had already been transported to PTMHS’s dimly lit auditorium, that he was struggling to stay awake as Gloria drones on about grit and perseverance and whatever metaphor she’s chosen this year, that McKay or Collins (or Mel, that one day) would be glaring at him to stop making smartass comments under his breath. 

Leanne stared at him, knowing that he’d never get away with just having a two-word answer. His grad program made him write a fucking page about it.

“I want all kids to have the kinds of opportunities to experience curiosity and wonder like I did,” Frank droned. “I was lucky to have teachers like Mr. Barge, who gave up his lunch periods to help me and Tyler make a history club, or Ms. Christianson, who stayed on my ass in middle school science. Every student deserves to have teachers who see their potential and care about them as people and want them to learn.”

“It’s funny to me that you say that like you’re reciting from the world’s most boring car manual, but I have heard you say similar things with your whole heart before,” Leanne observed. Frank shrugged.

“I mean, what does my why even matter? They just care if I’m there or, if I’m not, that I let them know before 5am and left sub work.”

Leanne frowned. “I don’t think you actually believe that. You said you only took one or two days off a year, and those were mostly for Tanner and Penny?”

And Abby fucking hated me for that, Frank didn’t say, even though he’s more and more aware of how much he sucked as a partner to her.

“I don’t think you would hold yourself to such a high standard if you didn’t think your presence and attention and care mattered.” Frank shrugged again, then wondered why he was acting so much like a middle schooler. 

Use your words, Frankie, Charlie’s voice said in the back of his head, which almost made him flinch. It’ll take a while for him and Charlie to find their footing again after the way he pushed her away and iced her out for so long, certain that she’d be able to see that something was wrong when he didn’t want to admit it.

(And what does it tell you that you thought Charlie would see something that the wife who you no longer shared a bedroom with didn’t? Leanne had asked in one of their first sessions, when Frank was still pissed that Abby wasn’t even willing to try to make it work. It shut him up pretty effectively.)

“I mean, I’m a good teacher,” Frank said out loud. “It’s, like, the only thing I’m definitely good at.” He winced. “Don’t read into that too much.” Leanne was already writing something down. Damn. “I think that part of me just feels so jaded about other teachers? And hearing them spout bullshit about their whys, when I know they’re doing the bare fucking minimum and that kids either hate them because they suck or love them because they don’t push them at all is so infuriating.”

Leanne hummed thoughtfully. 

“You’ve mentioned that before, how much you hate hearing other teachers talk about teaching.”

“Yeah, because other teachers are annoying,” Frank huffed.

During his second student teaching placement, when Frank was writing that stupid fucking essay about his why, he’d done some informal surveys of the teachers on the 8th grade team about their why. (Middle school. Never again.) The 8th grade team was small and therefore pretty close, just one teacher per subject area and the ESL and special education teachers who pushed in to support during different blocks of time, and Frank got along with most of them. (His cooperating teacher, Ms. Phillips, was fine. Just fine.)

“What is your why?” Frank asked each of them, actually taking notes in his little notebook like a fuckin’ reporter or something. “Or, what do you think keeps you coming back in a field with so much burnout?”

It blew his mind when all of them except one talked mostly about their colleagues.

“Probably the people I work with, at this point,” Ms. Wilson said, collecting her copies from the machine and looking faintly disinterested, which Frank felt was totally justified. “I like working in a place with people I get along with so well, who I feel like care about me. We have fun.”

“My co-workers,” Ms. James answered immediately, grabbing her lunch out of the staff fridge. “I’ve worked at some terrible schools, and even there, it was all about the family we made. I love these people.”

“Oh, definitely working with the team,” Ms. Phillips said, hanging chart paper on the wall for the gallery walk they were doing that afternoon. “I like how they have my back and we can ask each other for help.”

And that was all well and good, but also, what the fuck? How were none of them talking about the fucking students?

“I love it when you explain something to a kid, and you can see the moment that it finally clicks,” Ms. Reyes said, gaze unfocused, like she was picturing the moment that Amiya’h or Heaven stopped complaining and started writing. “Especially when it’s a kid who almost doesn’t want to get it, like they think you’re dumb and school is dumb and they’re too cool to be here, but then they hear something that even they can’t pretend isn’t cool as hell.”

That landed for Frank, especially since it made him feel a little less crazy, that there were other teachers who actually felt more energized from working with kids than working with adults. (Adults are usually more draining, aren’t they? Frank thought that was, like, the biggest advantage of being a teacher: not having to work with other adults most of the time.)

“Something I’d like you to keep in mind as you return to PTMHS,” Leanne started, and Frank straightened up a little, always happy to have a clear direction, “is that there are certainly other teachers in the building, even in your department, who share your views and skills and care. How can you view those teachers as potential allies, not just as obstacles to bypass? What can you get out of each PD session, even when it’s painfully boring?”

Frank couldn’t stop himself from snorting at that. Painfully boring was an understatement, most of the time.

Still, Frank wouldn’t be Frank if he wasn’t trying to get an A in therapy, especially now that he’s able to sleep and therefore remember multiple things at once, so he tried to keep Leanne’s words in mind as he stepped back into PTMHS for week 0, despite the overwhelming skepticism he felt. He made a point of sitting in the auditorium next to Cassie, who looked genuinely happy to see him, despite his random texts over the past year checking in on the Pitt (and Mel). They ate lunch together and he patiently listened to her stories about Harrison, which were, admittedly, pretty funny. He thinks Harrison and Tanner might have a fair amount in common. He avoided Santos, since that seems best for everyone right now.

By the end of Tuesday, he feels a little like he’s just trailing behind Mel King like a puppy, though.

He’s actually worried he’s coming on a little too strong, staring at the slide she added for day 1 and responding to her comments immediately, even though it’s late and he should either be doing other things or pretending not to just be sitting and waiting for her to respond. It’s not something he’s ever felt before about a colleague. To the contrary, he’s gotten in trouble before for not responding to emails and not signing cards and never, ever going to Kenny’s. But there’s just something about Mel that has him on the edge of his seat, all the time, like he wants to be able to answer her next question before she even asks it.

Leanne’s going to be delighted to hear about Mel King. Really, Frank thinks more people should be delighted about Mel King. She’s pretty fundamentally delightful.

He’d wondered at first if some part of him was subconsciously viewing her as a student and the teacher part of him was responding, eager to help explain things to somebody who seemed a little lost, but any fear of that is firmly dispelled when they meet Mrs. Swedeen.

Frank’s heading to the bathroom, midway through hanging up some fairy lights in the room—which sounds easy but is taking forfuckingever—when a middle-aged white lady accosts him. He knows that families and students are in the building today for registration, but that’s only supposed to be in the main office hall and the first floor gym, isn’t it?

“Are you Mr. Langdon?” the woman asks, holding a thick folder with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yes, ma’am,” Frank replies, a little wary. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Mrs. Swedeen,” she says, holding out a hand for what turns out to be a very firm handshake. Frank isn’t sure if he’s supposed to know her, so he tries to keep up his polite smile. Her expression slips a little, anxiety setting in. “Terrance’s mom?”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Swedeen. I can’t wait to meet Terrance next week. I’m actually—”

“Terrance has an IEP for Autism, and I want to make sure you’ve seen it and reviewed his file,” she interjects, holding the folder out to him. 

Frank suppresses a sigh. He really, genuinely appreciates the parents who advocate for their kids, and he can only imagine how difficult it’s been, getting to this point, but come on. They have all of that in the system. He’s teaching 112 students this year, plus his advisory. Does she really think he can just take folders like this from all their parents? Besides, he’s confident Mel already has some organizational approach to all of this, though they haven’t had a chance to actually go through their rosters together yet. 

“I’m so glad Terrance has you looking out for him like this,” Frank says, hoping to soften the blow of how he’s going to try to end this conversation as soon as possible, folder firmly in her hands. “I’m not sure if you know, but Terrance’s class will actually be co-taught, and my co-teacher, Ms. King, and I are carefully reviewing all students’ accommodations this week.”

Shit, what if Terrance is in AP or Honors? Frank really hasn’t had time to look through his rosters yet.

“Yes, he has co-taught minutes in his IEP.” One conversational bullet dodged. “But I know teachers don’t always look over the paperwork, so here—”

“I’m sure all of that will already be in the system,” Frank says, feeling increasingly annoyed. “And if it’s not, then you should make sure that the new case manager, Ms. Al-Hashimi, has it—”

“Ms. Al-Hashimi has it. I just spoke with her.”

Frank nods, fighting to keep up the polite smile. “That’s great! So we can see all of that online, which is easier than having hard copies of confidential information about students—”

“I just want to make sure you have all of it,” she interrupts. “Everything is documented in here, so you should just take it to make sure you have it all down.”

“Ma’am, I appreciate that you’re looking out for your son, but we already have his paperwork in the system, so it’s really not necessary.” Frank’s trying so hard not to sound as annoyed as he feels, and yet. He looks down the hall, hoping to find a reason to end the conversation, and lights up when he sees Mel rounding the corner. “In fact, here’s the co-teacher I mentioned! Ms. King is on top of it, don’t you worry.”

Mel closes the gap between them with a slight bounce to her step. She shoots him a surprised look undercut with a hint of anxiety, like she might not be on top of it, but he knows she’s got this. 

“Hi!” Mel greets with a cheerful wave. “What am I on top of?”

Frank coughs, mind going somewhere it definitely shouldn’t go about a colleague, particularly in front of a parent, and he clears his throat, trying to forget that ever happened. He’s about to stammer out something dumb, probably, but Mrs. Swedeen gets there first.

“Hi, I’m Mrs. Swedeen.” She extends her hand towards Mel, who has to shuffle the mountain of things in her arms to shake it. “I was just dropping off some paperwork with Mr. Langdon–”

“–paperwork that we already have in the system,” Frank finishes, rocking on his heels. Mel raises her eyebrows at him, looking a little judgmental, and focuses on Mrs. Swedeen. 

Frank gets the message: don’t be an asshole. Easier said than done, unfortunately.

“You must be Terrance’s mom!” Mel beams. 

Wait. What the fuck? 

“I was just reading his IEP earlier. I’ve never taught somebody interested in playing professional table tennis before! I didn’t even know there was professional table tennis!”

When did Mel have time to read IEPs this week? When did she have time to learn students’ names? 

It bears repeating: What the fuck?

Mrs. Swedeen nods brightly at Mel, shoulders inching down. Damn, two seconds with Mel and she already looks chiller.

“Terrance is signed up for a few tournaments already, so he’s going to miss school on October 26th and November 9th. I brought the registration forms to show the main office, since Terrance is anxious about having an unexcused absence.”

Frank shoots Mel an incredulous look—oh, Terrance is anxious, is he?—but she frowns at him and turns back to Mrs. Swedeen.

“That’s amazing! I hope it goes well, and I’d love to see any videos of it. Maybe he can teach me how to play.” Mrs. Sweden nods again, clearly eager to continue talking about table tennis, but Mel jumps back in. “What were the documents you brought for Mr. Langdon?”

“I brought a copy of his IEP, the psychologist’s report from his most recent evaluation, the neuropsychological report we got when he was first diagnosed—” 

As she talks, Mrs. Sweeden opens the manilla folder and flips through the papers, a mixture of stapled packets and single pages.

“All of which is already in SSM, and she says she just met with Ms. Al-Hashimi,” Frank mutters, crossing his arms. Mel darts a look at him before fixing her gaze on Mrs. Swedeen. Aw, he didn’t even think that was that rude!

“Thank you for making sure we’re all on the same page about Terrance’s needs,” Mel says, smiling at Mrs. Sweeden. 

Mel juggles the pile she’s holding– laptop, clipboard, two folders, an unopened package of Post Its–to get the clipboard on top. Frank reaches out, like he can somehow help, but drops his hands when he realizes he’s too late. Oops. She flips through the papers on the clipboard and stops on a page with a table. 

“As Mr. Langdon mentioned, we have access to Terrance’s current IEP in the system, as well as past reports. I added his accommodations to the matrix we have for his class, so we can both see it quickly during instruction and make sure we’re doing everything the team decided. Are there any accommodations you wanted to discuss?”

As Mel talks, Mrs. Swedeen slowly closes her folder and hugs it to her chest. She blinks at the ceiling for a long moment before shaking her head and smiling at Mel.

“No, they’re all pretty straightforward. He does get embarrassed about having extra time to transition to class, but he also gets overwhelmed by the noise in the hall, so he usually needs it.”

“That makes a lot of sense. Thanks for letting us know,” Mel says, adding a note to the bottom of her page. “We do have him first period, so he’ll be welcome to come into the room a little early if he needs to?”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be an issue. He likes coming in early, but he has a nook he studies in until the early bell, and he says that the halls aren’t too bad then.”

It’s nice to hear from a parent who has such a strong understanding of their kid, especially now that they’re not at cross purposes, but Frank’s transfixed by Mel. And yes, he’s aware that he’s basically just staring at her, but he doesn’t know who wouldn’t. 

When the fuck did she have time to not only read IEPs, but make fucking matrices of their classes? Holy shit. He needs to step up his game. 

Mel glances at him and then back to Mrs. Swedeen, so he follows her lead. Mrs. Swedeen is smiling at Mel, folder still hugged to her chest and looking much more relaxed than she had at any point in Frank’s conversation with her before Mel arrived.

“Well, Mr. Langdon and I still need to get our classroom ready, so we should probably head—”

“Of course!” Mrs. Swedeen nods again, as though she was confirming something to herself. “It was great to meet you, Ms. King. I’m sure Terrance is going to learn so much in your class.”

Frank doesn’t even feel bad that Mrs. Swedeen is basically ignoring him at this point. He would, too, if he were her and had the option to talk to Mel instead of him. Mel bobbles her head, an awkward side-to-side motion that Frank finds inordinately charming, and smiles again. 

“That’s the goal!”

Frank finds himself staring at Mel again, but he doesn’t really know how to stop. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Mrs. Swedeen wave and start to turn away, fishing around in her bag and emerging with a phone in hand, which Mel is watching with rapt attention. When Mel looks up and catches him staring at her, he makes himself look back to Mrs. Swedeen, trying to leave things with her on a positive note.

“Thanks for stopping by. We look forward to meeting Terrance Monday and then seeing you again at Back to School Night next month.”

“September 22nd,” Mrs. Swedeen says immediately. Frank chuckles.

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

With a final wave, Mrs. Swedeen disappears around the corner Mel came from. Frank’s already looking at Mel again, fascinated. They start talking at the same time.

“Do you know if there’s a laminator somewhere that teachers can use?”

“How’d you do that?”

Mel blinks.

“Do what?”

“Talk to her!” Frank shakes his head and clasps his hands behind his neck, overwhelmed but not really sure why. Mel averts her gaze again, clearly processing his question. She looks confused.

“I listened?” 

“Funny,” Frank chuckles. She looks confused. “No, you... you unlocked something. I wasn't getting anywhere with her. She’d been trying to give me that folder for, like, five minutes before you showed up, but she dropped it after talking to you for 30 seconds.”

“Oh!” Mel scrunches up her nose, not unlike a bunny. It’s cute. Which isn’t the kind of thing Frank should be thinking about his co-teacher, yikes. “Well, my sister is on the spectrum, and I remember how nervous my mom always was about new school years, especially since some teachers don’t even look at IEPs, so I... I don't know.” She shuffles the things in her hands. “It just takes a different approach.”

Frank nods, still staring at her. She’s so good at all of this. God, he doesn’t want to let her down. He notices that her braid is caught under her school lanyard, and he fights the urge to reach out and fix it. How is the same lanyard they’re all given so charming on her? She probably has a little system for where she keeps it, in her backpack or a hook on the wall by her door at home, and Frank has a sudden, desperate urge to ask about it.

He chews on his lip for a second to make sure he won’t say something insane. 

“Are you and your sister close?” 

Mel’s face goes through about twelve expressions in a second, and he wishes he could get a slo-mo replay to decode them all. She ends on a small smile, and he’s reminded again of the way she seemed to shut down her feelings when he offered to help with the group chat. He wants to know everything she’s thinking and feeling, which is...a lot. He’s pretty sure that’s not what co-teachers usually do.

“Yeah, we’re best friends.” She sways a little, side to side, like she’s too excited to stay in one place. “There was this one time we were on the swing–”

“Hold that thought,” Frank interrupts, hating himself for cutting her off, but also becoming suddenly aware that he urgently needs the bathroom, which was his original goal when he left their classroom, however long ago. “I’ve got to hit the head. I’ll see you back in the classroom, ok?”

Mel nods, deflating a little, and Frank commits himself to just repeating sister, swings, sister, swings in his head for the entirety of his bathroom break so he can ask her to finish the story when he gets back. He gets a few steps down the hall before realizing that she asked him a question earlier that he never answered.

He turns around, walking backwards as he calls back to her, “And yes, the World Language department has a laminator in their office that they’ll let you use for the low price of awkward small talk, probably a few cat pics. I can show you where it is later, if you don’t already know..”

Mel grins at him, bright and unabashed, and Frank feels a little like he could fly right now, if he wanted to, but why would he want to go farther away from her? Nope, that’s too much. Reel it in, Langdon.

God, he hopes he can be a good co-teacher for her.