#bobby fluff

Did you want to work at a different school? Absolutely not. You loved your students here, and you especially loved being able to see your boyfriend every day, even if just for a few minutes before and after school.

But there was absolutely no way you would work for that man for three more years. Not after the way he’d treated you.

So, here you were. Sitting on the floor of your classroom the day after the last day of school, not even sure how to start getting things packed up because there was just... so much.

How had you accumulated so much stuff? Why did you need all of this?

With a sputtering sigh, you dropped the folder you’d been holding and fell back onto the carpet behind you, flinging your arms out and reaching them gently above your head, almost as if you were preparing to make a snow angel on the floor.

You lay there for at least a few minutes, your mind blank yet racing with thoughts at the same time, until you heard familiar shuffling footsteps heading toward your room and, eventually, coming inside.

Since you knew who it was, you didn’t move your head to look. You didn’t sit up or even shift your gaze, and just as you expected, Bobby let out a soft groan as he lay down next to you.

“Already giving up?” he murmured.

You let out a breathless chuckle, carefully moving your arms back down to your side and then scooting over so you could press your temple to his shoulder.

“How did I get so much stuff?” you asked with a soft sigh.

You felt Bobby’s fingers graze against the back of your hand before they found yours, grasping them tightly and then linking them through his.

“I’ll help you,” he said. “Then it won’t take so long to get everything packed.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead, and you almost sat up to convey your surprise. “You’ll help me? Really?!”

“Yeah,” Bobby smirked. “Just this once.”

You turned slightly onto your side so you could press your face into his neck, your wide grin splitting your lips. “Thank you!” you squealed before you began peppering his neck and cheek with kisses.

For over two years now, Bobby had teased you by refusing to help you with things, saying you could do it on your own -- which you could, most of the time. So, whenever he did help you, you liked to make a big deal out of it to tease him right back.

Now that he was your boyfriend, he tended to help you out a lot more, but still. His reaction to your exuberant gratitude was always worth it.

You felt his cheek move as an adorable, toothy smile appeared on his face, and he turned to quickly capture your lips in a kiss before pushing himself off the ground and holding a hand out to help you up, too.

You gripped his hand tightly, and when he started to move away after you were standing, you squeezed and pulled him right back.

Sure, he was your boyfriend, and he was basically obligated to help you pack up things to get ready to move, but... you were moving to a different school, away from him. He hadn’t said it out loud, but you were fairly positive he didn’t actually want to help because he didn’t want you to leave -- even though he completely understood why you were.

You’d actually tried to get him to leave with you, but guidance counselor positions were a lot more difficult to come by than math teacher positions. So, he had to stay here for now, but he assured you he would keep looking if it seemed Mr. Howell really was going to stay for a few years.

“Thank you,” you repeated, though your voice was softer this time, and you didn’t kiss all around his face eagerly like you just had. “I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he replied with a secret blush and somewhat of a goofy grin.

You stood on your toes and pecked his lips before stepping away so you could start packing.

“Have you gone to see your new classroom yet?” Bobby asked after the two of you had packed quietly for about ten minutes.

Side note: one thing you learned that you truly loved about Bobby was the fact he was okay with silence. He was pretty talkative, but he didn’t feel the need to talk all the time.

“Not yet,” you answered as you taped up the box with the contents of your desk. “I’m going this afternoon.”

“Do... you want me to come with you?”

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity. “You want to come?”

Bobby continued rolling up the posters that had been on your wall, keeping his focus on them rather than on you. “Yeah, I’d like to. I won’t get to visit your room like I can here, so I want to see it at least once.”

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling like a fool and replied with, “Of course, you can come. I would love some help unpacking.”

Bobby’s head snapped up, and he quirked a brow at you. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, come on!” you laughed. “Please? Please please please --”

Your playful begging was interrupted by a knock on your door and a man clearing his throat.

Your visitor was immediately recognizable -- you’d heard that throat clearing once before, and the sound of it put your teeth on edge.

“Hello, Sir,” Bobby greeted.

Bobby typically didn’t fight your battles for you -- you were capable of doing that on your own. But this was one he did without you even having to ask.

“Bobby,” Mr. Howell greeted with a nod.

And then he turned toward you.

“I just wanted to wish you luck at your new school, Y/N,” he said to you with a barely there smile.

You silently let out a deep breath and set the roll of packing tape down, feeling a surge of courage swelling up inside of you. Courage you hadn’t had back when he’d yelled at you in front of your students.

You walked over to him, plastering the most neutral expression that you could muster on your face.

“Thank you,” you answered in an even tone. “And I want to wish you luck, too. I wish you luck in overcoming your prejudices against women, and I wish you luck in overcoming the toxic masculinity that makes you feel like you know better or that you can control me and women like me. You’ll never be a good principal until you recognize what women have done for the teaching profession and realize that employees cannot and do not thrive under leadership like yours. Controlling leadership. A good boss is not one who has all the answers, but one who knows the right answer when he sees it, no matter who it comes from. I’m leaving because of you, I won’t deny that, and if you continue to treat the women in this school as you treated me, I won’t be the only one. I can promise you that. Thank you for your well wishes, and I hope I never see you again. Now, please leave.”

Before you could see if he actually turned around to leave after your unexpected but wholly deserved speech, you stepped away from him and headed back over to your desk.

Thankfully, by the time you got there, he was gone.

You let out the biggest, shakiest sigh of relief, and Bobby was at your side in an instant.

“Y/N!” he laughed in amazement. “That was --”

He gathered you up in his arms, squeezing you tightly.

“That was incredible,” he murmured, his tone filled with pride. He then pushed you away just enough so he could see your face, his lips curved into the biggest smile. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Probably the same amount that I love you,” you answered, your heart still racing from what you’d just done.

You had no regrets, of course. He needed to hear that. But it had still been nerve-wracking.

Bobby pulled you back into his embrace then, kissing your temple for a long while.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you chuckled as you clutched at the back of his t-shirt.

“I -- I was going to wait to bring this up, but I can’t stop myself.”

Your brow furrowed gently, and you leaned back to face him again. “Bring up what?”

“I want to move in together.”

“You --”

“My lease is up soon, and with you going to another school, I just -- I don’t want to not see you every day. So... move in with me? Please?”

You and Bobby had been officially dating for less than a year. It was incredibly soon to move in together.

But...

You’d been friends for, what, three years now? You felt like you’d known him your whole life.

You knew him backwards and forwards, and he knew you just the same.

And, like he said, the thought of not seeing him every day was pretty upsetting.

Okay, extremely upsetting.

So...

Why not? If you were going to take a chance like this, it wasn’t going to be on anyone else other than Bobby.

You pressed your lips together, though the corners of your mouth turned up into a tiny smile, and you nodded. “Okay.”

Bobby’s face lit up.

“Yeah? Really? You want to?”

“Of course, I want to,” you chuckled. “I’m already packing up my classroom, might as well just pack up everything else, too.”

It was going to be a lot of work -- even more work than packing up your teacher belongings... but wasn’t Bobby worth that much work?

Yes. Of course.

I mean, you just really weren’t sure why you would’ve been disappointed that he didn’t have romantic feelings for you.

Obviously, the only reason to be disappointed was because, in actuality, you did want him to have romantic feelings for you.

But since when?!

You’d known Bobby for years now, and you’d never consciously wanted him to be in love with you. (I say ‘consciously’ because maybe deep down you had wanted him to. Who’s to say?)

So... why now?

Was it just because he had stepped in when Mr. Howell had been yelling at you, diffused the situation, and taken the blame? Because of everything he had done after to make sure it would never happen again?

...Was it how you’d felt being in his arms when he’d hugged you and comforted you after Victoria and Lisa had left?

Truly, you had no idea.

You had no idea why you had never really thought of Bobby as more than your friend but were now disappointed that he didn’t think of you as more than his friend. 

And, to be quite frank, you tried not to think about it. Any of it.

But being a teacher helped that. Your job kept you busy enough that it was actually pretty easy not to think about something specific, and when you were actually with Bobby, your friendship felt the same as it always had.

...Kind of.

You had done a good job of not thinking about romantic stuff when you weren’t around Bobby, but it was a bit more difficult when you were around him.

He was just so fun to be around! He made you laugh, and he was really sweet and thoughtful and...

Oh, god.

You had feelings for him, didn’t you?

You let out a soft groan, sliding down in your chair and letting your head fall back a little -- thankfully, there were no students in your room as the school day had just ended a few minutes ago. It was Friday, so the lack of tasks to complete for the following day was the reason you had even started thinking about this in the first place.

The fact it was Friday afternoon also meant that Bobby would come to your classroom to see if you wanted to go eat and then to Jay’s -- something he did basically every week -- and thinking about Bobby these days, no matter if just his name popped into your head for less than a second, made your thoughts go to those of the romantic variety.

And now... there was a real chance you’d finally thought the one thing you hadn’t wanted to: you were disappointed that he only saw you as a friend because you didn’t want him to see you as just a friend. You liked him, you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than his friend.

Oh, this was bad.

“Yo,” his voice suddenly called out, and you hastily straightened up in your chair to look at him standing in your doorway.

...Had he always been that handsome?

Yes, of course, he had.

“Hi,” you replied as you forced that thought out of your brain.

“You wanna go eat somewhere?”

“Sure.”

Bobby was about to nod, but then you saw him pause. You saw the space between his eyebrows furrow, and he looked at you curiously.

Please don’t ask if I’m okay, please don’t ask if I’m okay, please don’t ask --

“You okay?”

Of course.

You pressed your lips together and nodded quickly, letting out a positive hum instead of saying anything out loud -- you weren’t great at lying, and Bobby knew you well enough that he would absolutely be able to tell if you were.

But if he asked if you were sure if you were okay --

“You sure?”

Of course.

With a soft sigh, you rested your elbow on your desk and set your chin in your palm, trying to think of what you could actually say without actually saying it.

“I --” you began before quickly cutting yourself off.

Bobby stepped inside your room, closing the door behind him and shuffling over to take his usual spot, leaning on the edge of your desk.

“What’s up?” he murmured.

Thankfully, the time it took him to reach you was enough to come up with somewhat of an idea, and you really had no choice but to just go with it.

“So, I have this friend --” 

Yep. The “friend” route. But, like I said, you just had to go with it.

“-- and she... is friends with this guy. She’s known him a while, and nothing has ever happened between them. Just friends.”

“Okay,” Bobby nodded.

“But she told me yesterday that now she thinks... she might... I don’t know, have feelings for him. “

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but she’s pretty positive that he doesn’t feel that way about her, so she’s just not sure what to do, but I’m not sure what to tell her because I don’t know either, so I thought I would ask you since you’re, like, a guy,” you said in basically the same breath.

One corner of Bobby’s lips quirked up, and your heart did this weird little flipping thing.

“Has your friend asked this guy if he has feelings for her?” he inquired.

“Yes. She did at one point, and he said they were just friends.”

Bobby nodded slowly. “Okay... but what if he was just too shy or too scared or something to admit it because he didn’t think she liked him back?”

You pursed your lips in thought because that was entirely possible. But was Bobby that shy?

“Or,” he continued. “Maybe she had just been through something when she brought it up, and he didn’t want to make it worse or stress her out any more than she already was.”

...Okay, what?

Did he -- 

Surely, he didn’t think you were talking about --

But he just described --

“Uh -- yeah. I mean, may -- maybe,” you stammered, though you were trying your best to play it cool and sound normal.

“I think you should tell your friend to try asking him again,” he nodded. “Just in case.”

“But what if the answer hasn’t changed? Wouldn’t he figure out why she’s asking and then their relationship wouldn’t be the same? Their friendship would be ruined.”

“Not necessarily,” Bobby shrugged.

“So... why wouldn’t he just bring it up?”

“Probably because she’s the one who brought it up the last time, so he doesn’t feel like the timing is right to be the one to bring it up himself. I bet he feels like he would just be springing it on her. Especially since she walked away from that conversation thinking he didn’t have feelings when... he might have.”

Okay, he was being a little too specific. Now, you were really beginning to wonder if he knew you were actually talking about the two of you.

“Got it,” you muttered. “Yeah. That makes sense... but... maybe she feels like she can’t bring it up again because she thinks he was telling the truth and that his feelings haven’t changed.”

“That’s understandable.”

Your brow wrinkled slightly, and you asked, “So... what should she do?”

Bobby let out a sigh, shifting his position on the edge of your desk before answering you. “Well. Maybe... she should... talk to him about it but make it seem like she’s actually talking about her friend so he won’t catch on. That way she can gauge his take on the situation.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling, reaching out and swatting at him. “All right, let’s just go eat,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Pizza?” Bobby asked as he slid off your desk and took a few steps toward your door.

“Yes, please,” you answered immediately, your eyes widening with hunger.

“You wanna go somewhere? Or you wanna do takeout at my place?”

Even though Bobby’s tone had been nothing but casual, his question certainly didn’t feel like a casual one.

It kind of felt like he was subtly asking you if you wanted to move on from the previous conversation by going to a restaurant or... if you wanted to continue it at his apartment.

...That’s definitely what he meant, right?

You kept your gaze focused on your desk as you put your pens and calendar away, answering him with, “Let’s... let’s do takeout.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bobby replied, and it truly took everything in you not to look up and see what his expression looked like. “I’ll order it now and meet you there.”

You nodded, waiting until you heard his footsteps out in the hallway before letting out a nervous breath.

Something was going to happen tonight, wasn’t it?

Well, no matter if it was a good something or a bad something, at least you were getting pizza.

Your heart was hammering inside your chest as you lifted your hand to knock on Bobby’s apartment door.

And then it stopped beating altogether when he opened it up and let you inside.

“Pizza should be here in, like, ten or fifteen,” he told you as you hung your bag on the doorknob of his hall closet. “You want a drink or something?”

“Do you have cherry --”

“One cherry coke coming right up,” he grinned.

Your heart started hammering again when you followed him to the kitchen, and you wrung your hands together nervously.

Would he bring it up? Or was he waiting for you to do it? You’d thought your conversation at your desk earlier had been resolved, but now you couldn’t even remember. Your mind was a whole hurricane of thoughts right now.

You murmured your thanks when Bobby handed you a can of your favorite soda, and then he got one out for himself, ushering you over to the barstools at the counter.

As you slid onto one of the stools and opened your drink, you decided you would wait. You would wait a few minutes and see if he was going to bring it up.

Both of you took a sip of your cherry cokes.

And then you set the cans down on the counter.

...And then you couldn’t take it anymore. A few minutes, a few seconds -- what’s the difference, really?

“So, did you lie to me?” you asked, your gaze focused on the design on your soda can instead of on him.

You weren’t really sure why you asked that particular question, but... oh well.

“Lie to you?” he chuckled in reply. “What do you mean?”

“When I told you that Victoria and Lisa thought you liked me,” you answered, your voice shaky with nerves.

“Ah,” he muttered. “I... well, I don’t know. I -- kind of, I guess?”

Your eyebrows rose halfway up your forehead, and you finally shifted your gaze to look over at him sitting next to you.

“I mean -- I don’t want you to think of it like that. I just -- you were stressed out. A lot had happened, and I didn’t want to... y’know. Add to it.”

You bit your lip briefly before asking, “So... you do like me?”

A smile flashed across Bobby’s lips. “Of course, I do.”

“Of course?!” you cried, your eyes widening. “What do you mean of course?!”

“Come on!” he cried back, gesturing to you as he tried -- and basically failed -- to suppress a smirk. “You’re beautiful and smart and fun and I like being around you and talking to you.”

“Why did you never tell me?!” you asked as you reached out to swat his arm.

“Ow! Because! I just -- I didn’t. I should have when you brought it up back then, but I can’t change anything now so let’s just... not talk about that.”

You reached out to swat his arm again... but you ended up just resting your hand on his shoulder instead.

To be honest... you really didn’t know what to say right now.

So, you simply slid off your stool, took the few steps toward him to close the space in-between you, wound your arms around his neck, and pulled him in for a hug.

You immediately felt his arms circle you, one hand pressing against your back and the other clutching at the fabric of your shirt.

Being in his arms now brought you back to that day -- the day Mr. Howell had yelled at you and Bobby had come to your classroom afterward to comfort you -- though, of course, this felt different. Very different.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself bask in this feeling -- this incredible, warm, perfect feeling.

You knew Bobby liked to play basketball and exercise, but apparently, you’d never fully realized just how fit he was until you felt his muscles surrounding you.

And while you really didn’t want to pull away from this hug -- like, you really didn’t -- you wanted to do something else even more.

You wanted to let him know exactly how you felt, in no uncertain terms. You wanted to officially declare your intentions and unofficially begin your relationship.

So, you slowly leaned back, letting your arms slide off his shoulders so you could reach up and frame his face -- his handsomely chiseled face -- in your palms.

You searched his face, his eyes returning your gaze with a mix of intense curiosity and hopeful anxiety. Actually, he looked pretty much exactly the way you felt right now. Your heart was somersaulting and pounding, your stomach was on a roller coaster and filled with gigantic butterflies, and you currently found it a little hard to breathe.

But you leaned in, anyway.

The tip of your nose grazed his, you closed your eyes, and just as you felt your lips searching for his...

There was a loud knock on the door.

“Pizza!”

Before you even got halfway there, the man himself appeared, and not only his sudden presence but the worried expression on his face stopped you in your tracks.

The two of you stood there for a moment or two, neither of you moving or speaking. But then Bobby hurried over to you, reaching out and gently grasping your upper arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his concerned eyes searching your face.

And something about those concerned eyes and that quiet voice... something about them broke you.

You instantly felt your throat closing up, a huge lump of anxious emotion making it hard to swallow. You shook your head and choked out, “No.”

No, you were not okay, and if you couldn’t tell one of your closest friends that, then who could you?

Bobby squeezed your arms, and even though you knew Bobby wasn’t really one to show affection, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

As soon as your face pressed into his neck, you felt the tears break through. You felt your breaths get short. You felt his hands clutching and rubbing your back comfortingly. You honestly didn’t even know you’d felt like crying, but now you were and it felt like one of those cries that could last quite a long time if you let it.

“I’m so sorry,” Bobby murmured, his soft voice vibrating in his throat and tickling your nose slightly. “I realized he was bad, but I never thought he would --”

He cut himself off, squeezing you tighter and letting out a frustrated sigh.

After allowing yourself to cry for almost a full minute, you finally lifted your face and blurted out, “He yelled at me! In front of students!”

“I know,” Bobby mumbled, moving one hand up to cradle the back of your head. “Don’t worry, I already told the Assistant Principal. I will make sure he apologizes --”

You pulled yourself out of his embrace, your brow furrowed deeply. “I don’t want an apology!” you cried. “I want his resignation!”

Your embarrassment was now slowly fading, and the fact that your boss had yelled at you for something so stupid -- and in front of two of your students, no less -- was making you feel more and more angry.

I mean, how dare he treat you like that?! The man could apologize all he wanted, but you had a feeling you could never bring yourself to accept it.

“Y/N, I --” Bobby started, looking back at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “I doubt he’ll --”

Before you could even think about it, you interrupted him. “If he doesn’t quit, then I will.”

Either way, you did not want to work for that man for much longer -- for any longer, really. But you knew it wasn’t realistic to hope he would resign immediately. It would probably take a month or so, but you were more than willing to --

“You can’t quit two weeks into the school year, and you know that,” Bobby pointed out. “Think about your students.”

“You really want the kids to have a principal who’s willing -- not just willing but eager -- to yell at his teachers right in front of them?” you asked with a disbelieving chuckle.

“No, of course not,” he answered. “But I don’t think it’s fair to say he’s eager.”

“Oh, you don’t?”

...This was not good. You could feel your anger branching out into annoyance and hurt that Bobby wasn’t on your side.

“He was in here for less than two minutes, if that, before he raised his voice and treated me like a child,” you continued. “You don’t think that’s eager?”

“I --”

“You don’t think he meant to make me feel foolish? You don’t think he absolutely could have controlled his temper and just chose not to because he’s a sexist, chauvinistic, misogynistic pig?!”

“Y/N, please --”

You stepped away from him suddenly, tearing your gaze from his and moving on wobbly legs toward your desk. “I’m going home,” you muttered. You were too emotional at the moment, and you knew without a doubt that you would say something you would regret.

No, you absolutely did not regret anything you’d said about Mr. Howell, but you were worried you would say something about Bobby. And, as upset as you may be right now, he didn’t deserve that from you. Not at all.

As you began to pack up your bag at your desk, you used your peripheral vision to see Bobby heading toward your door. Your conscience screamed at you to look up and thank him for helping you (and comforting you), but by the time you actually worked up the nerve to do it... he was gone.

Oh, well. Bobby was smart and way more observant than he led on; you knew he could tell you were too shaken, and he probably knew you would call him later once you’d calmed down.

And that’s exactly what you did.

After picking up a pizza for yourself, devouring half of it, taking a long, deliciously warm shower, and changing into your pajamas, you flopped onto your bed with a very deep and exhausted sigh.

...And then you reached for your phone and called Bobby.

As it began to ring, you found your heart suddenly began to beat twice its normal rate. You and Bobby had never gotten into an argument of any kind before, so this was all very new to you.

All that stuff you’d thought about Bobby being smart and observant and knowing you had been too upset and that you would call later to apologize... Yeah, those had all been very educated guesses. You hadn’t actually known any of that because you’d never experienced it before.

Until now, of course.

So, for all you knew, Bobby could ignore your call. He could let it ring and ring and ring until you heard his voicemail and --

“Hey,” his deep, scratchy, familiar voice said.

You almost let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Hey,” you replied breathlessly. And then you decided to just get right to it. “I’m sorry. You really didn’t deserve anything I said to you --”

“Nah, nah, it’s cool,” he interrupted. “You were upset, and you had every right to be. I understand.”

Of course, he did. Of course! 

“Okay, good,” you replied with a soft grin. “I really, really appreciate what you did. I was just -- nothing like that has ever happened to me before, so I was really confused, and it all happened so quickly, so I guess I just kind of froze, and then things didn’t really catch up to me until you came back, so... Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured. “I know you would do the same for me if you had to.”

“Absolutely.”

You decided to leave unvoiced the thought you had that Bobby would never find himself in that situation. You would never have to intervene if Mr. Howell was yelling at him in front of students because Bobby was male. It had been -- and certainly was now -- very evident that Mr. Howell was prejudiced against women. You’d figured that out basically the day you’d met him, and the events of this afternoon had cemented it in no uncertain terms.

He had behaved like that towards you because you were a woman, and you had -- in his eyes -- gone behind his back and disobeyed him.

You had a feeling Bobby could show up late to work every day for a month (not that he would, but we’re speaking hypothetically here), and Mr. Howell wouldn’t bat an eye.

None of this was Bobby’s fault, of course -- which is why you left it unvoiced. He knew everything as well as you did, and what was the point of putting it out in the open?

So, you decided to move past it. Kind of.

“I was so out of it after you left, things were kind of a blur. But I felt so bad for Victoria and Lisa for having to witness that,” you said with a slight frown.

“Are they all right? Should I talk to them?”

“I think they’re fine,” you answered. “Actually, they said they didn’t like him either, but they think that you like me.”

Of course, you chuckled softly before adding, “Teenage girls love to make romance stories out of nothing.”

“Yeah,” Bobby replied, mirroring your soft chuckle with one of his own.

“I mean, just because you stepped in to de-escalate the situation, that’s a sign of having romantic feelings for someone?” you scoffed with amusement. “Don’t worry, I made sure to set them straight. We’re just friends.”

“Friends,” Bobby repeated.

“You would’ve done it for anyone! Not just me.”

“Not just you. Anyone!”

“Exactly,” you said with a nod.

Actually, you were surprisingly relieved to have gotten that out in the open. You weren’t sure why you’d been apprehensive to share that part of the story with him -- you hadn’t even known you’d been apprehensive until just now when you realized you were relieved.

Maybe -- deep down -- a part of you had been afraid that Bobby had been going to tell you that Victoria and Lisa were right. That he did like you. That he did have romantic feelings for you. That he did see you as more than a friend.

...But he didn’t!

He had told you just now: Friends. He would’ve done it for anyone.

And that was relieving.

You let out a soft sigh before saying, “Well, it’s getting late. I’ll let you go. I really just wanted to apologize and make sure you know how thankful I am for... everything you did.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Bobby assured you gently. “But... please, let me know if you need anything. Or if you need me to do anything.”

You knew he meant do something about Mr. Howell -- talk to a higher up at the district, probably.

“I will,” you grinned. “I promise.”

Bobby let out a soft, brief sigh and said, “Okay. Good. Have a good night.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow.”

“Yep, tomorrow,” he murmured before the both of you hung up.

Since you were already in bed, you decided to just... go to bed. You plugged your phone in, turned your lamp off, and nestled in under your comforter with a sleepy yawn.

Now that you’d gotten that over with, you were certain you could sleep easier.

...I mean, not that apologizing to Bobby had been something you’d dreaded. Not at all. 

I guess... you were more relieved about telling him what Victoria and Lisa had said and hearing from him that they had been wrong.

You knew they’d been wrong, of course. You’d hadn’t thought for a moment that maybe they’d been right. But it was still nice to hear Bobby confirm it himself -- the two of you were friends and nothing more!

And, to be quite honest, you weren’t really sure you would ever want that to change. You always wanted him in your life, even if you did end up quitting and transferring to another school. Or even finding another job altogether. 

You still wanted to go eat pizza and Mexican food with him. You still wanted to go to Jay’s bar with him. You still wanted to tease him and be teased by him.

Had you, at one time, thought that maybe you and Bobby would develop into something more?

...Yes. You wouldn’t lie and said you hadn’t ever imagined it, but that had been quite a long time ago. You hadn’t thought of that in so long, so -- yes -- hearing your students conjecture that Bobby liked you in a romantic way had been a bit jarring. You had totally forgotten you’d ever wondered if your feelings would blossom, and having that wondering brought up again only added to the shock you’d felt from what had happened.

So, hearing Bobby assure you that he just saw you as a friend was, as I have said, relieving --

...Okay, wait.

This feeling you were currently feeling... You’d thought it was relief.

You’d thought you were relieved to prove Victoria and Lisa wrong.

But... this wasn’t really relief, after all.

What was this?

What were you feeling right now?

It wasn’t... no. It couldn’t be. You were too tired and your mind was too jumbled from everything that had happened today, so you were definitely mislabeling this feeling, and now you were just going to squeeze your eyes shut and go to sleep.

And never think about this feeling again, especially when it came to Bobby saying he just liked you as a friend.

Because... you kinda thought... the feeling was...

Disappointment.

Just after you opened up your favorite test creator website, there was a soft knock on your door. You always left your door open after school, but you still called out for the guest to come in.

“Hey,” Bobby greeted before you even had the chance to shift your gaze and see who it was.

“Oh, hey,” you replied with a small grin, very quickly glancing at him before getting back to work. Bobby was probably the only co-worker you knew wouldn’t get offended if you didn’t give him your full attention when he came to see you. 

“Whatcha up to?” he asked casually as he shuffled over toward your desk.

With a sigh, you answered, “I’m giving a pre-test tomorrow, but I guess I accidentally trashed the one I gave last year. Gotta make a new one.”

As he usually did, Bobby perched on the edge of your desk, and he grabbed the stress ball from next to your pen holder. “Sounds fun,” he murmured as he threw the stress ball gently up into the air and caught it when it came back down.

You simply hummed unenthusiastically in response and continued typing away on your laptop.

For the next minute or two, the only sounds in your classroom were the clacking of your keyboard and soft thuds of Bobby throwing your stress ball up and down.

This was one reason why you enjoyed and valued your friendship with Bobby so much. He could come to your classroom to talk but the two of you may not end up talking at all -- he didn’t mind. And neither did you.

Still, though, after you finished a few questions, you let out a soft sigh and turned your head wearily over to look at him.

“How was your day?” you asked.

Bobby paused, holding the stress ball in his hand and squeezing it as he looked back at you. “Pretty good, I guess,” he shrugged. “It was Monday, and my appointments are starting to pick up, so the school year is in full swing, I guess.”

“Yep,” you replied with a slight frown. “First week is over, so now the real work begins.”

You let out a mix between a whine and a groan as you leaned back against your chair, spinning around slowly and letting your arms hang down over the armrests.

“Hard at work, I see!”

You immediately sat up, ignoring the inward cringe you felt at hearing that particular voice. You wondered how long it would take you to get used to Principal Howell -- surely, you wouldn’t dislike him for the entire school year.

...Right?

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Howell,” Bobby answered, and you didn’t even need to look at him to know he was smiling that angelic but professional smile of his. “I really shouldn’t be bothering Y/N because she’s trying to get ready for her pre-test tomorrow, but she’s too nice to tell me to leave.”

Truly, thank god for Bobby. You were a nice person, but you weren’t too nice -- you most likely would’ve responded to the principal’s comment with something far too sassy to be considered professional.

“Aha,” Mr. Howell chuckled, wagging a finger toward the two of you. “Sounds like a woman to me.”

You began to push yourself out of your chair, ready to retort back with something even more sassy, but Bobby interrupted you.

“Thanks for checking in, Sir,” he said.

Mr. Howell either understood Bobby’s covert request to leave you alone or he was too stupid to and simply had other things to do (if you were a betting person, you would bet it was the latter) because he shot Bobby a grin and left.

“Are you serious?” you hissed, barely waiting long enough for your boss to be out of earshot. “What the --”

“It was definitely sexist,” Bobby agreed.

You let out a strangled groan and practically threw yourself back against your seat, your strength forceful enough to spin your desk chair around about 180 degrees. “And it’s only the second week!” you cried, throwing two fingers up into the air for emphasis.

Bobby sighed, and all of a sudden, your chair was spinning back around to face him. “If you hear him say anything more, let me know. I’ll start keeping documentation and talk to one of the assistant principals.”

...Had you ever said just how grateful you were to be friends with the school’s guidance counselor? Bobby wasn’t afraid to take care of problems, but he never did it in aggressive way, and you just appreciated that so much.

“Thank you,” you nodded, making sure to look him right in the eyes so he understood you really meant it.

Bobby simply replied with a close-lipped smile before putting your stress ball back beside your pen holder and sliding off your desk.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he made his way over to your door. “And let me know if you hear anything else so I can add it to my notes.”

You brought two fingers to your forehead and gave him a quick salute. He returned the gesture just before he stepped into the hallway, making a soft, amused grin appear on your lips.

Normally, you would procrastinate right now. You would’ve told Bobby he didn’t need to leave, and the two of you would’ve start talking about whatever conversation topics came to mind.

But you knew you were going to have to stay late creating this pre-test, and the more you procrastinated, the later you would be here.

So, you sat up straighter in your chair and got right back to work.

“Happy Hump Day, Ms. Y/L/N!” one of the students in your last period class said with a smirk as he waved good-bye to you from your doorway.

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled. “See you tomorrow, Daniel.”

And just before he had fully left your classroom, you called out, “And don’t forget your homework tomorrow! Yesterday’s and today’s!”

“Absolutely!” you heard his voice reply faintly, and you wondered to yourself what the odds were he would actually turn it all in tomorrow afternoon.

You shook your head to yourself, a half-grin tugging at your lips as you began to straighten up your desk. While students like Daniel could be a handful... they were also kinda your favorite ones. Daniel, specifically, was very outgoing and loud -- not to mention forgetful and lazy -- but he was also sweet, thoughtful, and genuinely funny. He made up for the fact he forgot to do his homework 3 out of 4 days with how often he made you laugh or smile -- at least, in your eyes he made up for it. Surely not every one of his teachers felt the same way, but hey. What could you do?

As you put your pens back in your pen cup, your gaze scanned over your calendar to see what was planned for tomorrow -- and then you saw the note for Victoria’s tutoring today.

Oh, yeah!

You had remembered during your third period class earlier today, but you had already forgotten. Such is the life of a busy math teacher -- and that was exactly why you wrote things down so often. If you didn’t, you would never remember anything.

Right on cue, there was a soft knock on your door.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” Victoria’s sweet voice called out, and when you looked up to greet her, you saw she wasn’t alone.

“Hey,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows slightly. You recognized the girl standing next to Victoria as one from your first period class, but you couldn’t pull her name, even from the recesses of your mind.

“I brought Lisa with me,” Victoria explained. “Is that okay?”

Lisa! Yep, that was it. Lisa.

“Of course,” you assured them, gesturing toward the small, kidney bean-shaped table in the back of your classroom. “The more the merrier. ...Except not really because if too many people come for tutoring, it’ll turn into just another class period, and no teacher wants that after school.”

Both Victoria and Lisa giggled as they approached the table, taking off their backpacks and getting out their math textbooks.

You joined them at the table with a grin, pulling out the chair in the notch of the table and sitting down. “Where shall we begin? Anything in particular so far that you want to go over?”

Lisa answered that the lesson you’d taught today had been hard for her to follow, so you started there, having them flip to the chapter in the textbook you’d focused on just a few hours ago.

Since your lesson hadn’t clicked with either of them, you took a different approach to it this time. You used visual aids and tried to think of applicable examples -- especially examples that two teenage girls would appreciate. You had Lisa and Victoria come up with their own examples to make sure they understood, and then you began helping them with the first few questions on their homework.

“Good,” you praised Victoria after checking her solution to the second problem. “Do you feel better about it?”

“A little --”

But Victoria was interrupted by someone -- a male someone -- clearing his throat.

The noise came from your doorway, so you quickly shifted your gaze to see who it --

Oh, lord.

It was Principal Howell.

...And he did not look happy.

“Hi, Sir,” you greeted with a softly wrinkled forehead. “Can I help you?”

“What is going on here?” he asked in clipped tones.

He didn’t sound happy, either.

“I’m just helping them with --”

Mr. Howell stepped into your room, his chest puffed up and his eyebrows raised menacingly. “I don’t recall signing off on this,” he interrupted.

Your heart began to beat a little bit faster. You really didn’t like the way he was speaking, and you especially didn’t like that he was coming toward you.

“Oh, I --”

“I’m sure you’re aware, Ms. Y/L/N, that all after-school activities must be approved? By myself?” he asked, his tone nothing short of patronizing and condescending.

He had stepped too close to the table for your comfort, and since you didn’t want Lisa and Victoria to be physically in the middle of this, you quickly stood, almost knocking your chair over in the process.

“I --”

“I know that you young teachers have all these ideas and think you’re going to change the system, but I specifically said ALL --”

He raised his voice then, and you jumped a little.

“After-school activities need to be approved by me!”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I just thought--”

“Well, it’s very obvious you weren’t thinking, Ms. Y/L/N,” he snapped.

Inside, you were fuming. You were mortified. Terrified. Angry, embarrassed, and scared all rolled into one. You wanted to retort back with something smart and sassy. You wanted to tell him just what you thought of his stupid policy and his sexist remarks.

But on the outside... you found you just couldn’t. You could only gulp nervously and stammer and wring your hands together and --

“Mr. Howell.”

Suddenly, Bobby was standing next to the principal. You jumped a little again, and your heart sped up.

What was Bobby doing here?

Mr. Howell’s glare briefly shifted over to Bobby, and he muttered, “Ah, Mr. Kim. Hello.”

“My apologies, Sir,” Bobby said in his most confident yet casually polite voice. “This is my fault.”

Your brow knit together with confusion. This was all what now?

Mr. Howell looked just as confused as you felt, though there was definitely also some skepticism in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he asked Bobby.

“I told her tutoring probably doesn’t count as an activity, so she didn’t need to get your permission,” Bobby answered.

...Oh my god. Bobby was taking the blame. 

Even though it was actually the opposite -- he had warned you about the new approval policy, but you had assured him tutoring didn’t count.

“I’m so sorry,” Bobby added.

Bobby had been shuffling around as he spoke, and somehow, he was now fully in-between Mr. Howell and the table, successfully blocking the principal’s view of you.

“I assume she has your approval now?” Bobby asked. “Since it’s just two students, one day a week.”

You held your breath. For some reason, you were convinced Mr. Howell would refuse to give his permission.

But, to your utter surprise and relief, he murmured, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Perfect,” Bobby replied with a grin. “Actually, while I have you, I was wondering if you could take a look at something in my office?”

You held your breath as Bobby escorted Mr. Howell out of your classroom, only letting it out in a short huff when you could no longer hear their footsteps out in the hallway.

You deflated back into your chair and let your head drop onto the table with a thud.

Wow.

That had been --

Wow.

Wow wow wow wow -- oh, god, you weren’t alone.

Immediately, you picked your head back up to look at Lisa and Victoria sitting across from you. “Girls, I am so --”

Both of them looked completely in awe, and apparently, your words were just the sign they needed to spill all of their thoughts.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” they both burst out, their voices somewhat breathless.

“That was so --”

“Mr. Kim!”

“He came to your rescue --”

“Oh, it was so romantic!”

Your head jerked back in surprise when you hear the word romantic.

“Wait, what?” you interrupted, doing nothing to hide the confusion in your tone.

Lisa’s eyes widened, and she asked with wondrous curiosity, “Is Mr. Kim your boyfriend?”

You almost choked on the air you were breathing, but you managed to answer her. “No -- friends. We’re just friends.”

Both Victoria and Lisa’s eyebrows lowered, and they glanced at each other knowingly.

“Are you... sure?” Victoria asked.

“Yes, I am quite sure,” you assured them. “And I’m not just saying that because I don’t want to divulge my personal life. We are just friends.”

They looked at each other again, but this time it was long enough to make you nervous.

So, you asked, “...Why?”

Both girls’ heads whipped back around to face you.

“Well,” Lisa began.

“We think he likes you,” Victoria finished.

You truly did love teaching, don’t get me wrong. It was exhausting, and your work environment could change from year to year depending on your bosses and co-workers. But at the end of the day, you knew there wasn’t another job out there that would leave you feeling as gratified and fulfilled as teaching did.

But... right now... on Friday afternoon... you were just exhausted.

The last student had left your room for the week, and you had trudged over to your desk, plopping down onto your chair and letting your head fall onto your desk with a gentle thud.

A few moments later, you heard footsteps shuffling toward your door -- but you didn’t even have enough energy to lift your head up and see who it was.

You had a pretty good guess, though.

“You made it!” came Bobby’s voice soon after the footsteps moved from the vinyl flooring of the hall to the carpet of your classroom. “The first week -- the hardest week -- is over.”

You simply let out a very weak cheer, and Bobby chuckled gently as his footsteps approached your desk.

When you felt him lean on the edge, and when you felt his hand pat your back a few times, you managed to loll your head over to the side so you could shift your eyes up to him.

“I don’t think I can get up,” you muttered, your words just a bit garbled since your cheek was pressed against the surface of your desk.

“Well, I’m not helping you, so you’ll have to find the strength.”

Sighing, you replied with, “Can you at least promise to go have dinner with me somewhere -- somewhere that serves alcohol, preferably. That would be a good incentive.”

That half-smile of his appeared on his lips, and he nodded. “I will absolutely promise you that.”

You were just about to lift your head up lazily when you heard a timid knock on your door.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” a soft, female voice said.

You sat up quickly, eyebrows raised as you saw a student from your third period class hesitantly standing in your doorway. You couldn’t remember her name yet, so she obviously was not one of the troublemakers -- those names you remembered instantly and would never forget for as long as you lived.

“Yes,” you answered before forcing a smile. “Hi, sweetie. What’s up?”

“I -- I was wondering...” she started, clutching her math textbook to her chest and taking a couple of cautious steps inside. “I’m just really not good at math, and I know I’m going to struggle in your class, so I was hoping I could... get some extra help? Do you know of any tutors or anything?”

Bobby piped up then, standing from your desk and turning toward the door. “I can help you find some tutors.”

For some reason, though, you actually wanted to help this girl yourself. First of all, she was adorable and quiet and shy. Second of all, she was self-aware and not afraid to ask for help directly from the source. Plus, she wasn’t a troublemaker, so there was a good chance you would actually like spending time with her.

And helping her out after school meant you got to procrastinate planning lessons and grading assignments. Always something you prioritized.

“Oh, no, I can help you,” you interjected before the girl could accept Bobby -- Mr. Kim’s -- offer. “Are you free after school on... Wednesdays or Thursdays?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl answered immediately with a hopeful grin. “Wednesdays are good.”

“Perfect. Come here as soon as you can next Wednesday?”

The girl nodded and wished you a nice weekend before turning on her heel and scurrying out of your room.

As you opened your notebook with all of your class seating charts to see if you could remember her name, Bobby said, “Uh, don’t you remember the new admin policy about after-school activities?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” you muttered. You stopped flipping through the notebook when you got to the chart for your third period, narrowing your eyes in concentration to try to visualize where the girl had decided to sit.

“Principal Howell’s new policy. He talked about it during the staff meeting on Tuesday morning... No after-school activities without his approval. Even the sponsors for the existing clubs and stuff had to go see him to get approved.”

Your brow furrowed immediately, and you momentarily lifted your gaze to look at Bobby as if he were crazy. “This is tutoring. It hardly qualifies as an activity.”

Bobby just replied with an expression that clearly said Okay, but don’t look at me if you get in trouble, I tried to tell you.

You pursed your lips and continued, “Like, every teacher does after-school tutoring at some point! He really wants every teacher in the whole school to come to him to get it approved? Doubtful.”

“Okay, okay,” Bobby relented, holding his hands up to ward off your defense. He then took a few steps toward your door and added, “Are you almost ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just make a note on my calendar...” You grabbed a pen, and when your eyes landed on the seating chart once again, you cried out a triumphant (but soft) Aha! 

Victoria! Her name was Victoria.

“Meet you at El Torero?” Bobby asked from your doorway.

At the mention of your favorite local Mexican restaurant, you nodded quickly. But then you added, “Jay’s after?”

A fairly popular bar was right next to the restaurant, and since you didn’t have a taste for beer or margaritas (which is all they sold at El Torero), you were looking forward to a fun mixed drink or two at Jay’s after eating.

“You got it,” Bobby confirmed before stepping into the hallway and heading toward the nearest exit.

After scribbling down “Victoria tutor after school” on your calendar next Wednesday, you hastily stood up, grabbed your bag, and cheerfully locked up your classroom for the weekend.

“Get whatever you want,” Bobby said as the two of you slid into a booth at Jay’s, a popular locally-owned bar you tended to frequent during the school year. “It’s on me tonight.”

“Ooh,” you marveled, a delightfully pleased expression overtaking your features as you reached for a drink menu. “Why, thank you, kind Sir.”

“My pleasure,” Bobby chuckled.

As you began to skim over the multitude of drink choices, you almost commented that you didn’t even know why you looked at the menu anymore; Jay’s made the best Sidecar you’d tasted in your entire life, and you’d been too cautious to ever try anything else.

But then you saw a new drink on the menu -- its name was in green instead of black and there was a star next to it, so it was hard to miss -- and the description sounded quite intriguing.

Before you could bring it up to Bobby, the owner of the bar -- Jinhwan, himself -- appeared at your table.

“What’ll it be tonight, guys?” he asked with a friendly smile.

You and Bobby had been coming here ever since you’d started working together, so Jinhwan knew the two of you by name at this point. He was practically your friend, though you never saw him outside of the bar.

“Hey, Jinhwan,” you greeted, returning his grin. “What’s this new drink?”

The bar owner’s face immediately lit up, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks turn just the barest hint of pink. “Ah, yes -- it’s one I created for my girlfriend, I just added it earlier this week.”

“Wow, that is adorable,” you gushed. “It’s her favorite or something?”

“She’s not a big drinker, and whenever she came in, she would just get a bottle of cider. So, I wanted to create something she would actually like. I had her test all different versions of it until she finally didn’t have anything she wanted to change. Took me almost six months to get it right, but now, here it is.”

Well, if that wasn’t the cutest thing you’d ever heard.

“I’m definitely getting that then,” you told him, slipping the menu back in the metal holder at the end of the table.

Bobby held up two fingers, and Jinhwan nodded, murmured a You got it, and then turned back toward the bar.

“God, that’s so cute,” you said with a slightly furrowed brow once Jinhwan was out of earshot.

Bobby raised his eyebrows at you as he crossed his arms over the tabletop and leaned forward. “Is that a dream of yours? That one day your boyfriend will name an alcoholic drink after you?”

You reached for a napkin, crumpled it up in your fist, and then threw it at his face.

“Shut up,” you laughed softly. “I mean, if my boyfriend owns a bar, then, yes. I would love for him to do that.”

“But only if he owns a bar.”

“Yes, only if he owns a bar.”

“What about if he owns a restaurant?”

“Then, obviously, I want him to name a pizza after me,” you answered without hesitation.

“But what if he doesn’t own a pizza restaurant?” Bobby asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Do you really think I would date a guy who owns any other type of restaurant?” you pointed out. “Free pizza for life is the only acceptable compensation for dating someone who would barely be home -- because owning a restaurant is a lot of work.”

“So, if you met a guy who was completely your ideal type -- looks-wise and personality-wise -- but he owned a burger place, you wouldn’t date him?”

You blinked a few times before sputtering out a confused laugh. “I don’t -- can we move on, please? We don’t need to continue talking about my non-existent dating life.”

Bobby let out a sigh and leaned back against his seat, moving to tap his fingers on the edge of the table. “Okay, what should we talk about? Work?”

“My love life and work are not the only two options for conversation!” you retorted. “What are your plans for the weekend?”

A hidden smirk tugged at Bobby’s lips, a clear sign he was satisfied with how he’d teased you and was now ready to move on. “I’m meeting up with Donghyuk to play some basketball.”

“Oh, he’s the.... um, the doctor, right? The one who moved?”

Bobby nodded.

“Man, it’s a shame he moved,” you sighed. “He was super cute. ...Is he still single?”

“No,” Bobby chuckled. “He met someone there. I think he’s going to propose, actually.”

“Well, when you meet her, please tell her she’s a very lucky woman.”

One of Bobby’s friends from college, Donghyuk, was probably one of the cutest, smartest, kindest, and sweetest guys you’d ever met. You had definitely been interested in dating him, but you’d had a boyfriend at the time. And after your break-up, when you’d been ready to think about moving on, he had moved away for a job. And now he was going to get married, apparently!

“Two lucky women, actually,” Bobby corrected you.

Your eyebrows shot halfway up your forehead. “...Excuse me?”

“His girlfriend has a daughter.”

Your expression immediately relaxed, and you let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, got it. Yeah, definitely two lucky women.”

Bobby leaned forward again, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought there was a slightly awkward look about him. “You... can come with me, if you want. If you want to tell him yourself.”

“Come with you? To play basketball?” you smirked. “No, thank you. But give him my regards.”

“I mean, you don’t have to play. You can, like, watch or something.”

You were about to answer that you were fine -- watching basketball seemed almost as bad as playing basketball, but Jinhwan returned with your drinks before you got the chance.

“Enjoy,” he grinned after setting them down on the table. “Happy Friday.”

You reached for the glass in front of you, lifting it up slightly and nodding your head toward both Jinhwan and Bobby. “Happy Friday, indeed,” you replied with a beaming smile.

Bobby followed suit, and then the two of you took a sip.

Your eyes widened as the sweet but tart drink hit the back of your throat. Jinhwan, obviously wanting to see how his customers were liking the new addition to the menu, had stayed by your table, so you shot him a very impressed look.

“Tell your girlfriend she has excellent taste in alcoholic beverages,” you said.

Jinhwan immediately looked very proud and pleased, and he lifted his shoulders smugly when he said, “That’s not the only thing she has good taste in. But, I will.”

As you took another sip when Jinhwan turned to leave, you made Bobby promise to only let you drink two of these.

...But then you made him promise to come with you again next Friday.

He agreed to both, like the good friend he was.

You lifted your head up quickly, your brow furrowing as you scoffed at him. “Well! I don’t know! You don’t always have to say anything, you can just listen, y’know!”

“Okay, okay,” Bobby chuckled. “My bad. Please continue.”

“Thank you.”

...But after a few moments, you realized you didn’t really have anything else to say.

“That was kind of it,” you shrugged.

Bobby sputtered out a laugh, turning back toward his desk after closing the drawer of his file cabinet. “Well, I can’t say I really got a bad vibe from him, but I can’t say I liked him, either.”

“See?” you pointed out as if his words had just proved your point -- even though they hadn’t.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he nodded. “And the first time I get even the smallest bad vibe, I’ll let you know.”

A satisfied smile curved your lips, and you said, “Thank you.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Sometimes, they’re just for listening,” you teased.

Bobby shook his head gently as he leaned against the corner of his desk. He frowned at you before saying, “And sometimes, they’re for reminding you that the first day of school is next week, and you should probably go get started on lesson planning.”

“Spoilsport,” you retorted, your features forming into a decidedly unhappy expression. Even though he was right.

Not only did you need to start planning your lessons for the first few weeks of classes, you also needed to clean your classroom, go through all of your materials to find out what you needed to re-stock, make copies, and fill out your planner for the year.

With a deep sigh, you pushed yourself out of the chair and trudged to the door of Bobby’s office.

“You... don’t want to help me?” you asked, pausing momentarily in the doorway.

“I would if I could,” he grinned. “Got a whole new group of students coming in, so I gotta prepare for all that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to go back to my room and do anything.”

A smirk tugged at Bobby’s lips, and he tilted his head curiously at you. “Then why don’t you just quit?”

“Because! Once I actually get started, I love it. It’s just the getting started part I have a hard time with.”

Bobby slid off the corner of his desk and hurried over to you, turning you around and pushing you into the hallway. “Go, go, get started,” he chuckled.

“Okay, I’m going!” you relented with a secret grin.

As you headed down the hall toward your classroom, Bobby called out after you, “Hey, if you need any help... don’t ask me! I’m too busy!”

“Yeah, same to you,” you called out, lifting your hand up and waggling your fingers.

Ever since you’d started teaching here a couple of years ago, your relationship with Bobby had been like this. The two of you had become friends pretty quickly, and shortly after establishing your friendship, it had become very apparent that your preferred communication with each other was teasing.

But underneath the teasing, Bobby truly was one of the sweetest guys -- people, in general -- you’d ever known. He was incredibly kind and thoughtful (if not a bit covert about it), and he’d made your first year here so much easier than it could have been.

Back then, he’d helped you out willingly -- he’d volunteered most of the time, actually. He’d shown you the ropes, sent you websites you could use even though he was the guidance counselor and you were a math teacher and he had no interest in math whatsoever, and he’d helped you rearrange the desks in your room about ten times until you’d finally found a layout you were happy with.

On the last day of school, though, Bobby had put his hands on your shoulders, looked into your eyes and said, “You’re on your own now.”

Of course, he still helped when you desperately needed it -- especially if you started crying from too much stress -- but typically, his reply to your pleas was “Can’t, too busy, do it yourself.” And your reply to his reply was what you’d just said: “Yeah, same to you.”

And, honestly, that’s one thing you valued the most about him. He was willing to help, but he was even more willing to let you figure things out on your own, make your own mistakes -- basically just be an independent person. And when you did figure it out on your own, he was always there to celebrate with you.

Most of the time, he was there to celebrate with you... with pizza.

Which is exactly what he arrived with after you’d spent a few hours cleaning out all four of your bookshelves and cabinets.

“Knock knock,” you heard his scratchy but familiar voice call out from your doorway.

You were on the floor, surrounded by papers and old textbooks, and you craned your neck to see him standing just inside your classroom with two boxes of pizza.

Your eyes widened, and you let out a soft gasp of excitement, scrambling to stand up and hurry over to him.

“Pizza?!” you marveled. “But -- what time --”

Your gaze snapped over to the clock above your desk, and you saw it was, indeed, lunchtime. And since today was a planning day with no students to teach, you got to take an hour break to eat.

Imagine that: a whole hour!

Well, today, you didn’t have to imagine it. Today, it was your reality.

Bobby scanned your disastrously messy room and then looked back at you with one of his signature angelic smiles -- made all the more angelic and charming by his ever so slightly crooked front teeth. “I can see you’ve made a lot of progress.”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, holding back a smirk. “I actually have. I’ve cleaned out the two bookshelves and one cabinet, and now I’m just working on the last one.”

“I wasn’t kidding!” he defended, the expression on his face one of total innocence. “I brought you pizza as a reward!”

“Okay, but we are not eating in here,” you declared. Reaching a hand out to Bobby’s shoulder, you turned him around and gently pushed him back into the hallway. “Let’s go eat in the courtyard.”

“Aye aye,” Bobby murmured before turning on his heel and heading toward the courtyard just around the corner. Usually, the modest outside space with three sets of small tables and chairs (which were actually benches) was filled with students during lunch, so you and Bobby frequently took advantage of its emptiness on your planning days.

As the warm sun hit your face when you opened the door, holding it to allow Bobby to walk through with the pizza boxes, you let out a very deep, content sigh. After being cooped up in your room all morning, it felt good to breathe fresh air.

“Why do you sound like you’ve just been in prison for the past two decades?” Bobby laughed as he set your lunch down on the table closest to the door.

“Honestly, why am I friends with you?” you replied. You let the door go, narrowing your eyes and furrowing your brow curiously at him as you approached.

“Because I buy you pizza.”

“...Okay, right,” you relented with a nod. You then slid onto a bench and reached for the pizza box on top, opening it and seeing it was topped with pepperoni. At the same time, Bobby opened the second pizza box and, obviously, saw it was topped with black olives.

The two of you switched boxes without saying anything, and Bobby sat down across from you to start eating.

“How was your morning?” you asked as you lifted a slice from your box and brought it to your mouth -- you were more than ready to gobble at least half of this pizza down.

“So, the district is trying to convert all of our files to the computer so we can keep more files of students who graduate,” Bobby explained in-between bites. “Spent basically the whole morning transferring last year’s seniors and shredding the paper after I finished.”

“Oh, sounds like fun.”

“Mountains of it.”

“What, mountains of work or mountains of fun?”

“Both. Obviously.”

You chuckled softly, smiling to your slice of pizza before shoving about one-third of it into your mouth like the elegant lady you truly were.

Your conversation continued on, moving from work to your plans for the weekend, and as you were pondering on whether or not you should see a movie on Saturday, you heard the courtyard door squeak open.

“How’s everything going?”

Your eyes flew over though you knew from his voice alone that it was your new principal.

Thankfully, Bobby answered for the both of you: “Great, Sir.”

The principal smiled and then raised his eyebrows toward you. “You helping her move things around? You know how women get with furniture -- they love to change things up, make it just right.”

You immediately narrowed your eyes at him, and when Bobby answered, you were more than pleased to hear he sounded a bit uncomfortable. “Uh, no -- no, Sir. I’ve been busy, and she hasn’t asked for help, so --”

“I’ll get a janitor to come by your room,” the principal said to you. “Where are you?”

It took everything in you not to reply with your jaw clenched, the words just barely making it past your angry lips.

“That’s all right,” you assured him, purposely leaving off a ‘Sir.’ “I can handle it.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Bobby added. “Enjoy your lunch.”

The principal nodded, lifting one hand in a wave as he let the door close. Your eyes followed him as he began walking away, and the second he was out of sight, you scoffed with no restraint.

“Are you kidding me?” you seethed. “Did you hear him?! You know how women get with furniture, like what the hell?!”

Bobby shook his head gently, his expression screwed up into one of both disbelief and disgust. “Yeah... that was not okay.”

“So, now you don’t think I’m crazy for getting a bad vibe about him, do you?” you prodded with raised, expectant eyebrows.

“I mean, one off-color comment doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a bad guy,” Bobby shrugged. “It just means he’s a bit older and more --”

“More chauvinistic,” you interrupted.

“I was going to say conservative.”

You simply pursed your lips and stopped yourself from retorting back by stuffing the rest of your pizza slice into your mouth.

“But I’m not saying you were wrong,” Bobby assured you. “It was definitely a questionable thing to say.”

Still, you didn’t feel like saying anything because you knew it was extremely possible for you to get too sassy -- and as much as you already disliked him, you would rather not get into trouble before the school year even officially started. So, you just lifted your eyebrows as a sign that you agreed with him.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I got your back,” Bobby murmured.

“I know,” you replied, the corners of your lips tugging into a soft smile.

Because you did know. Even if Bobby didn’t fully agree with you that your principal was a disgusting, misogynistic pig, you knew he wasn’t discrediting you, either. And he would absolutely keep an eye and an ear out for any other “questionable” comments.

It was certainly going to be an interesting year... though, hopefully, not in a bad way.