Synopsis: A new teacher at Roundview has to deal with her first Parent's Night. She meets a man that has quite the large amount of baggage and gossip around him.
a/n: a fic! From me?? Nah son. Thats crazy. Multi-chapter love for this man coming tho. Slowly. One day. Love you alllllllll.
Parent’s Night, the bane of any teacher’s existence. Truly a hell on Earth, between those parents that thought your job was just to babysit and those that were willfully ignorant about their children’s behavior in school, you couldn’t take it.
At least those were miles better than the ones that took their children’s academic prowess as a mark of their own success.
The student who’s father was coming in now, the mother eloped with some German man, was named Sid. Your heart went out to him. Really. His home life was in shambles. Said father was recently in hospital for something about his heart.
Local gossip mills and the teacher’s lounge still shattered with the grips of poor Sid’s tragic, dramatic home life.
You’d be a bit more supportive if it was only that; his home life.
Sid seemed to be intent on dragging everyone else in the school with him, however. Hopeless, truly.
What a time to get into teaching!
The man wobbled in, he wasn’t unattractive. The mother was insane for running off. You marked the whole explosive thing as probably personality-based. That’s why people cheated in mostly. Personality and boredom. Usually, appearances had seldom to do with cheating. Super models got cheated on all the time…
Maybe he inherited his father’s personality?
You suddenly didn’t fault the mother.
His eyes seemed perpetually wet as he sat down across from you. They were lovely. Not quite blue, not quite green, grey and gold flecks throughout, rimmed with an exhausted red line. The sudden locked contact of them shot through your core. Framed with lush, arched brows and pretty little lashes…
“My wee boy, how’s he been?” The man; Mark, according to your records asked. It was earnest. “I’ve been trying my best to get his grades up.” He swallowed as you caught a glimpse of the scar from surgery under his wrinkled, wrongly-buttoned shirt.
You swallowed back. He seemed gravely concerned, with genuine love for Sid bubbling forward. The way he asked seemed so gut-wrenchingly genuine and paternal concern that broached towards reverent.
Definitely not inherited personality faults from him, you walked back your previous guess.
“Not good, his grades continue to slip. He keeps moping about some girl named Cassie. I keep telling the school councilor to get involved. He seems unreachable.” You went for brutal honesty. A man who was briefly declared dead would appreciate that, right?
He let a few choice words. It felt well-suited. Duly earned.
You felt for him truly…
Leaning forward, you laid out a sympathetic hand on the man…
“He’s nearly catatonic. It might not be a matter of skills.” You reasoned. “He has gone a through a lot…maybe try to get him in for a psych eval?” You tried to give seasoned advice and speak from what little experience you had.
He sighed.
“Just tell me what to do.” Mark resigned himself into a self-conscious slouch. “He has to do better in life than me or even his grandfather did.” He seemed content to all but hover above the surface of the desk.
Definitely not personality-based cheating, you thought as you rolled back your previous observation. Unless this was a new personality based on his health scare and Sid driving him to his limit.
Oh well, so much for gossip-based psychology!
You put a caring, cautious hand on his shoulder. (Bony, yet firm you remarked.) He was close to breaking into tears. It wasn’t fair.
“He’s already got a good support system in you and what the school administration can provide. Get him the mental health care he needs. It may not be a perfect fix, but it’ll help.” You felt yourself rubbing soothing circles into this near-perfect stranger’s upper back.
His back felt almost muscular. Thin, oddly spaced out. But firm. Just like his shoulders.
It wasn’t all that bad to touch.
Something overtook you as you produced a post-it and wrote your number down. It was a bad, possibly sideways move. Definitely not in the teacher’s handbook.
You shook yourself. You just didn’t want to see this man fall into disarray further because of his son. The boy was this close to falling through the cracks completely. People usually inherited their mental health struggles from their parents…
Nothing else. Clearly not a sudden desire to see this man again.
“Why don’t we meet up outside for a coffee and we can discuss this somewhere cheerier?” You slid it forward. “Ring me on there and we’ll chat, hopefully somewhere with outdoor seating.” You laughed a small laugh as of to diffuse the situation and show your metaphorical belly.
“Aye. That’ll do.” He took the post-it and slid it into his jeans pocket.
“I know you cannae waste all your time on me. You’ve got parents queuing up for miles.” He said as he got up and shuffled clumsily to the door.
You went back to your notes about said meeting as some other kid’s parents trotted in.
