Page 5

4 JASON

A blaring alarm startles Jason from a deep sleep, making him regret choosing his loudest sound when he set the alarm last night. Then again, considering it’s early enough not even his own internal alarm clock or his dogs have had a chance to wake him, it was probably the right choice.

Though he knew the alarm would come extra early today, he can’t stop the groan that leaves his lips as he rolls over and buries his face in his pillow. It’s still pitch dark outside, far too early for any normal human to be awake. It’s definitely going to take him a few weeks to get used to getting up before the sun again. He is never going to be a morning person naturally, but he is willing to do anything for his fur babies, including waking up at the ass crack of dawn to ensure they get a nice long walk before he has to leave them for the day. He feels guilty enough about how many hours they have to spend alone during the football season, the absolute least he can do is ensure they get their exercise in.

No matter how valid his reasoning is, his body still desperately wants a little more sleep, and he ends up hitting the snooze button on his alarm, pitching him back into beautiful silence. Jason’s body takes the quiet as permission to go back to sleep, but that only lasts a few seconds before Freddie is whining and making the entire bed shake with the force of his butt wiggles, clearly desperate for Jason’s attention. Despite the shaking of the bed, he keeps his eyes shut, eager for one more minute of rest. Jason abandons this desire when Stella jumps on top of him, giving him a face full of fur as she rolls over his head.

“You are not allowed on my face, Stella,” he reminds her.

Stella barks while Freddie licks his ear. Jason takes that as his cue to let the morning begin. Stella and Freddie clearly aren’t going to let him sleep any longer, which he shouldn’t do anyway. Rolling out of bed, he scrubs a hand over his face while his eyes adjust to the dark and begins mentally psyching himself up for the day.

The morning passes in a blur of making coffee, taking the dogs on a quick three mile run then hurrying home to shower and have more coffee. While he chugs that down, waiting for his breakfast sandwich to reheat in the microwave, he packs his lunch, suddenly realizing he’s going to need to stock up on more snacks he can throw in his bag if he doesn’t want to starve to death. He ends up adding a protein shake and a green apple Gatorade to his cooler, unsure of what drinks he has in his office, along with his sandwich and fruit. Somehow he manages to get his ass out of the house shortly after seven, only five minutes past his original goal. All things considered, Jason is pretty damn proud of himself, especially since he knows the traffic around the school will be an absolute cluster fuck on the first day back.

Sure enough by the time he gets to campus the drop off line is backed up into the second lane with freshman parents trying to come in off the wrong street—almost as if they didn’t read the two e-emails and the mailer the school sent out explaining which roads to use. The side lot for students is also three-quarters full, meaning anyone who tries to get to school with five minutes to spare will be screwed.

Between the chaos off the main road and normal morning traffic, it’s a miracle Jason can even pull into the front lot and find his parking spot by seven-thirty. Shutting off the ignition, he grins while surveying the sight before him, teachers unloading their cars with extra supplies and students everywhere greeting friends after the summer break and waiting for a new year to begin.

There’s little Jason loves more than the first day of school, ripe with reunions and new opportunities. Maybe it’s because Jason absolutely loved high school, or maybe it’s because he loves his job, or maybe it’s just because he loves being around people, but the energy on the first day invigorates him more than his two cups of coffee.

He gets out of his truck, leaning over the back to grab his cooler when he hears shouting. Turning around, he’s met with the wide-eyed face of Arlo Rosales, one of his freshman players. Arlo’s a good kid, talented, but green as fuck and desperate to live up to his family’s reputation. The Rosales boys are legendary, and Arlo’s got no shortage of older brothers or cousins whose reputations and skills he’ll constantly be compared to in the coming year. Neither of Jason’s older brothers had played sports, but he’d still been unable to escape every teacher comparing him to Andrew’s academic excellence or Charlie’s outstanding art skills, so he can only imagine how hard it is for Arlo living in the shadow of so many family members who played before him.

“Hey, Arlo.”

“Morning, Coach King,” Arlo says, tapping his fingers on his backpack straps.

“You ready?” Jason asks.

Arlo tightens his grip on his straps, holding on so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Sure, Coach. I’m ready for anything.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Why would I be nervous?” Arlo asks, looking like he might pass out.

“High school is a big change from middle school. My best friend had to hold my hand on the first day.”

“You’re lying,” Arlo gapes.

“I never lie,” Jason tells him seriously. “Between you and me, I don’t even know why I was nervous. I’d been so excited for high school, talking it up all summer. Then we got here and I couldn’t get out of the car. My older brothers drove us and they parked and I just froze. My best friend literally had to hold my hand and drag me out of the backseat.”

“I don’t have a best friend,” Arlo says quietly.

“You will. The team is your family, Arlo. We’ve got your back, alright? You need anything, you tell me or one of the guys. In fact, hang on.” Jason lifts his fingers and places two of them between his lips, whistling loudly. At least two dozen students turn their direction, but Jason only cares about one. He waves his arm, grinning when Matty sees him and takes off running towards them.

Beside him, Arlo remains quiet, gaze darting between Jason and Matty with unmasked shock. He can’t blame him. Matty’s a senior and the star quarterback, probably even more of a legend than any of the Rosales boys. He’s also poised to get scouted for a D1 scholarship this year if he can keep his grades up, so it’s no surprise Arlo is staring at him with wide eyes. He can’t help but wonder if that’s what he and Theo had been like when they both made the team freshman year.

Matty comes to a stop directly in front of them, smiling widely. “What’s up, Coach?”

“Thought maybe you could make sure Arlo finds his way around campus today.”

“I can find my way,” Arlo protests.

“No way, man. This campus is like a maze. My freshman year I ended up in Mr. Murphy’s sophomore science instead of my freshman lab,” Matty laughs. “I didn’t realize until class was half over.”

Arlo doesn’t say anything, but the hint of a smile on his face is enough.

“Come on, we’ll figure out where your first class is. You can have lunch with me and the guys too.” Matty throws an arm around Arlo’s shoulders, pulling him towards the grassy area where a few other guys from the team are waiting for his return.

Jason watches Arlo approach the older players, relieved when he’s welcomed into their fold with a few claps on the back before being pulled into their game of toss the football. Even though he suspected that's what would happen, it still feels good to see it, and Jason breathes a little easier knowing his guys will make sure that Arlo settles in. He meant what he said. The team is a family, and Jason has a zero tolerance policy for toxic behavior or bullying. He’s not sure if it's that policy or he’s just lucky, but his last few years of kids have been amazing. Sure, not all of them have been as close as others but there’s never been an instance where anyone was left out, which is exactly what Jason wants.

With a renewed excitement for the semester ahead, Jason turns, fully prepared to head across campus to drop his lunch off in his office before his first class when he catches sight of a familiar head of red hair trudging up the steep sidewalk from the direction of the bus stop. Jason hadn’t given too much thought to why Emerson was taking the bus the day before but he does now, wondering if it’s by choice or not.

His musing on Emerson’s choice of transportation shifts into a different kind of curiosity as he watches him drag a wheeled tote behind him while trying to balance a massive box of books, a travel tumbler and a tote bag that’s slipped down to the crook of his elbow making the entire situation look mildly uncomfortable. Behind him, a student riding a skateboard stumbles over the crack in the sidewalk, slamming into Emerson’s back. This sends him careening forward, his box crashing to the ground and splitting down the side causing his books to go flying in every direction while his tumbler rolls into the gutter.

Jason drops his cooler and runs, skidding to a stop beside Emerson, who looks like he’s not sure if he wants to chuck his books into the gutter with his wayward drink or maybe himself.

“Sorry dude,” the teenager says, picking up his skateboard then stepping over Emerson.

“Need some help?” Jason asks, squatting into a crouch.

“Why is it always you?” Emerson groans.

“Sorry,” Jason apologizes, not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for but sensing it might not be a good time to ask given the current circumstances.

“No, you—ugh,” Emerson groans, mumbling to himself as he starts stacking the books. “This is what I get for taking personal belongings on the bus, but my Uber had the smallest trunk ever on Saturday, so I thought, ‘fine, just bring the last box on Monday on the bus. What’s the worst that could happen?’ The worst it turns out is that the bus was seven minutes late which might not sound like a lot, but I had a plan. A plan, Jason. Then a little kid with sticky hands touched the box and sneezed on it which is frankly disgusting. As if that wasn’t bad enough, someone tried to sit on the box since it was next to me and smashed down the corner which is probably why it broke so easily.”

He pauses to take a deep breath, leaving Jason to stare. That’s the most words he’s said since Jason met him, both times combined. He’s not done either.

“I don’t even know why anyone would sit next to me, especially on my box. There were plenty of available seats, and there’s really nothing about me that screams come sit by me. Does my face look approachable to you?”

“Um,” Jason hums. Truth be told Emerson kind of has a resting “don’t talk to me” face so he has no idea how to explain why that makes Jason want to do the opposite.

Charlie always tells him he doesn’t know when to quit and maybe he’s right. Something about this reminds him of when Alec called him sobbing to adopt Freddie, and he’d shown up at the shelter to find out he was there to adopt a dog no one else wanted. They told him Freddie was antisocial and aggressive, clearly trying to warn him off, yet it made him want to take him home even more. In the end, Freddie turned out to be the least aggressive dog that Jason’s met, but he sure as hell was terrified, and his bark had been far worse than his bite. All he’d needed was a gentle hand and a lot of love and stability. Not that Jason thinks Emerson is a dog needing adoption, or saving. Though he could use a helping hand today.

“Ugh, forget I said that,” Emerson huffs, rubbing a hand through his hair and sending it into further chaos, the thick red strands sticking out in almost every direction as if he’s had his hands in it all morning. “Also this hill from the bus stop to campus is really steep, and this box was heavy, and now I’m going to be late. Late. I’m never late. I can’t be late on my first day of teaching. Oh my god, what if I get fired?”

Jason blinks, both surprised and yet not, to see the spiraling. Growing up with Theo as a best friend, he’s well versed in this level of anxiety. Though Theo’s spiraling was usually internalized, not spoken aloud, it’s easy to imagine the root feelings might be the same even if the presentation is different. He suspects Emerson might need a little reassurance and a steady hand which Jason can definitely offer.

“You won’t be late,” Jason promises. “Go to your class. I’ll pack up all your books and bring them to you.”

“I can’t let you do that.” Even as he protests he takes one step, eyes taking in the people around them moving towards the school. It’s obvious some part of him wants to accept. Jason’s eyes roam over the lines on Emerson’s face, tracking the edge of anxiety that colors his features. Jason isn’t sure how old he is, definitely younger than he is; he looks young enough that this might very well be his first teaching job. Jason recalls the nerves from his own first year all too well. They’d been damn near crippling that first week, and Jason isn’t even an anxious person by nature.

“You can,” Jason asserts. “You’re part of the Santa Leon High family now. I’ve got you.”

Emerson opens and closes his mouth several times as if unsure how to respond. Maybe Jason is a little too bossy. His brothers have told him he can come on a little strong but he’s never quite mastered the art of being less.

“Maybe.” Emerson takes a deep breath, his anxiety palpable. The inexplicable urge to fix things hits Jason square in the chest. He knows he can’t just take on everyone else’s problems but he also can’t stand seeing people suffer, especially Emerson. Something about the look in his eyes is deeply affecting.

“Go, Emerson,” Jason urges.

“Then you’ll be late,” Emerson frowns.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason says, fairly confident that he can get Emerson’s books and supplies across campus without struggle and have plenty of time to spare to get to his first class. If not, then worst case scenario he’s five minutes late, but he’s pretty sure none of his seniors who have P.E. first thing are going to complain about an extra couple of minutes to talk to their friends while Jason sets up. “I’ll leave everything outside your class so it’s there when you’re ready, I promise. You won’t even know I came by.”

“Thank you,” Emerson says.

“No problem, and Emerson? The building next to the library, last door on the right,” Jason reminds him.

With that last prompt, Emerson takes off in a hurry, walking up the sidewalk and towards the front of the school, leaving Jason behind with his forgotten rolling tote, tumbler and a mess of books. It really doesn’t take too long for Jason to gather them all up, sparing only the briefest of glances at the novels in the box. They range from a worn copy of The Hobbit to a Wrinkle In Time and a dozen or so other novels that Jason’s never heard of. He stacks them all in the box, careful of the split edge as he balances it under his arm, dragging the tote with him and retrieving his abandoned cooler bag on the way.

Most of the kids are already inside when Jason makes it to the front office just as the first bell rings.

“Not like you to be late, Jason,” Mabel scoffs, sliding the teacher sign-in clipboard to the edge of the desk for him.

“Are you kidding me? I was late almost every day of senior year,” Jason laughs. “Although I have rectified that since I started working here.”

“Don’t remind me,” Mabel says with a shake of her head. “The number of tardy emails you made me write. It’s amazing they hired you.”

“What can I say, my winning personality was irresistible,” Jason smirks, lowering the box of books onto the edge of the desk as he signs in.

Mabel peers inside the box, her keen eyes tracking the wheeled tote behind him. She doesn’t get a chance to ask about it though because a parent comes in, tugging their freshman behind them which Jason takes as his cue to leave. Hurrying through the front door once more he takes a detour down the left path and rounds the corner just in time to see Emerson through the open window. He smiles to himself, glad to see he made it. He wheels the tote beside the door, carefully stacking the ripped box of books on top of it and leaving the tumbler on the ground beside it. He’s only made it two steps before his own curiosity gets the best of him, and he peers inside the window, most of his form hidden behind the hanging vines of a plant.

“Welcome to freshman English 100, my name is Mr. Miller and?—”

“You mean remedial English,” a kid in the back snarks.

Emerson doesn’t balk at the interruption, leaning back against his desk and crossing his arms. “I prefer to look at it as foundational skills. There’s no shame in needing to go over things again to ensure that your understanding is as comprehensive as possible moving forward. The more you learn and understand here in my class the easier the next few years will be for you. We’re going to be working on strengthening your literacy and comprehension skills while having some fun with books along the way.”

Watching him now there’s no signs of the anxiety that plagued him on the sidewalk not fifteen minutes ago. Physically he looks the same—wild red hair and captivating eyes—but there’s something different about him when he’s in front of his students. There’s a confidence in him that wasn’t there before, as if standing in front of a room of nearly thirty teenagers is where he’s meant to be.

“Books aren’t fun,” someone groans.

Rather than look annoyed at the remark, Emerson actually smiles. The sight of it transforms his face, softening the sharp edges of his features into something quite striking.

“On the contrary, books are a lot of fun. Maybe you just haven’t read the right ones. I’m sure you’ve had some teachers before who had some strict rules about what you were going to read, and while there will be assigned books this semester, we’re going to branch out a bit too. I’ll be filling my personal library over there with an array of books from manga and comics to fantasy and everything in between. I’ve also spoken to the librarian about hopefully expanding the audiobook selection for you guys and—” Emerson pauses when a hand goes up at the front of the classroom.

“Yes?”

“My grandma said audiobooks don’t count as reading.”

“Well, your grandma is wrong,” Emerson replies. “All books are reading.”

He says it in a way that leaves no room for argument, as if it’s just a fact.

“If there are no more questions, we’re going to go around the room and introduce ourselves. I’m pretty terrible with names, so I’m going to need you all to give me one unique fact about yourself to help me out. Think you can do that?”

There’s a chorus of replies, but Jason is prevented from further eavesdropping by the two-minute warning bell ringing. It's a stark reminder of exactly where he is and what he’s doing—spying on Emerson while his own students are waiting for him.

With quickened steps, he jogs across campus to get to his own class, sending thoughts of Emerson into the background.

* * *

Case of beer in one hand and two pizzas poised under the other, Jason kicks at the front door with his sneaker. When there’s no immediate answer, he does it again harder. He waits a minute or so before sighing, shifting the case of beer onto the top of the pizza boxes so he can knock on the front door with three firm, swift raps of his knuckle.

“You two better not be fucking,” Jason yells. He waits a solid thirty seconds before another knock, at which point he raises his voice enough to be heard through the door. “If you don’t answer the door in two more minutes, I’m using my key to get in. But fair warning, if I have to see anyone’s pasty ass again, I’ll fucking riot.”

“My ass isn’t pasty,” Alec replies, opening the front door with a sly grin. Considering he’s wearing nothing but his boxers and one of Theo’s sweaters, Jason chooses not to analyze his expression. Then again, looking like the cat that ate the canary has become Alec’s default look lately, and after his traumatic car accident last year, it’s a sight for sore eyes, even if the reason for it is something he prefers not to think about. Those first few months after he got hurt were rough.

Along with the return of his smile as he healed was the return of his sass, something which seems to have magnified tenfold since Theo proposed. He’s absolutely insufferable and Jason kind of loves it, willing to endure anything if it means his baby brother is safe and happy. Not that he will say that out loud. Alec’s incorrigible enough as it is.

“Your ass on the other hand,” Alec says with an insufferable tone. “Well, let’s just say you got Mom’s complexion. Your ass is so pale it makes the moon hide.”

Alec isn’t wrong. While Alec got their mom’s freckles and curly hair, he’d taken after their dad and abuela in complexion like the twins had. Between the four of them, Jason’s always been the one who was the most white-passing and in turn who took all the ribbing for how sunburned he’d get in the summer while his brothers simply turned a sun-kissed brown.

“You’re just salty because I took all the height genes,” Jason retorts, falling back on his favorite insult.

“Fuck off,” Alec huffs, making a show of grumbling as he throws his arms around Jason in a hug.

“I love you too,” Jason grins, unable to resist annoying Alec by messing up his curls.

“You fucking—” Alec starts, only to be interrupted by Theo stumbling out of the hallway wearing noticeably more clothing than Alec is. He smooths the front of his sweater down before offering Jason a bashful smile.

“Sorry, we were um, making the bed.”

“Making the bed,” Alec echoes. “That’s a good one. I like that. I’m going to use that on Mom and Dad next time they come over for dinner and get here early like they did last month.”

“Only if you want them to spontaneously combust,” Jason snorts.

“Please,” Alec scoffs. “Mom and Dad know me and Theo have fucked.”

“We all know you and Theo fuck, that doesn’t mean we need to be reminded so often.” Jason arches an eyebrow, unsurprised when Alec’s smile merely widens. At least Theo has the decency to appear abashed. “Now move your scrawny ass out of the way so we can get this pizza night started.”

“Alright, cranky pants. We all know you get hangry,” Alec says, moving out of the doorway before scooping up Rio who immediately lays herself across Alec’s chest and purrs loudly. The only other cats Jason has been around for any length of time are Charlie’s, which isn’t much to go by since his outdoor cats are two of the most antisocial little fuckers he’s ever met and his nearly blind senior cat doesnt like anyone but Alec or Charlie. He had no idea a cat could be as clingy and affectionate as Rio. Or at least, she is with Alec. She mostly just tolerates everyone else.

“I’m not hangry,” Jason protests, but the grumble of his voice betrays the truth. He had lunch at eleven forty-five and then got so busy with classes and practice that he hasn’t eaten since. Unless you count the bag of trail mix Jason got out of the vending machine at two, which he doesn’t. That’s a tasty little treat, not something to sustain a man who weighs two-hundred fifty pounds.

“Let the man sit down,” Theo laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of Alec’s head on his way to the sofa. He lowers himself into the corner while Jason sets the food and beer on the coffee table before plopping in the center of the couch. It’s amazing to think this is the same house that used to be mostly barren aside from Theo’s prized—and in Jason’s opinion hideous—rug and his never ending stash of beverages in every room.

Gone is the bachelor pad vibe, now replaced with new signs of life, and of Alec, everywhere. Glancing around, he can’t help but notice all the little ways it’s changed over the last few months. Alec’s extensive sneaker collection lines the shoe rack by the door, a half-drunk can of Coke sits on the coffee table along with a stack of his textbooks, and there are several pencils, all chewed up at the ends, on the edge of the TV console. Most noticeable of all, there are photos on the mantle and walls, not just of Alec and Theo but of the entire King family, Jason especially. One of him and Theo when they were in first grade, a few from high school and even a new one on the end table from Alec’s birthday last month.

“That’s new,” Jason notes, pointing out the frame on the end table. Even after watching photo after photo appear once Alec moved in, Jason still isn’t used to seeing them displayed. Theo never once put out a single photo before, almost as if acknowledging the Kings were his family might somehow make it too real—make it something he could lose.

“It was Alec’s idea,” Theo offers, because of course it was. Alec didn’t just fill their house with photos of him and Theo, he filled it with all the people who love Theo. Hell, there are more photos of Jason and Theo together than with Alec, and knowing that Alec did that—made sure to remind Theo with tangible proof he’d never lose Jason—means more than he will ever be able to explain.

“Of course it was,” Alec smirks, dropping into Theo’s lap. “I’m a fucking genius. Should’ve gone into interior decorating but no, I had to decide to switch my major and go for a doctorate of physical therapy, and now I’m going to be in school until I die. Unless I expire from studying first, which is a definite possibility.”

“If it’s that bad, why did you pick that major again?” Jason asks, still not entirely sure he understands.

Alec shrugs. “I had some really good physical therapists after my accident, and I thought it might be nice to find a way to help other athletes remember they can have a life after an accident too, you know? That they’re more than just their sport. It’s easy when you push your body that hard to think that’s all you are, and I just want to help. Instead, I’m going to die from studying too much.”

“You won’t die,” Theo assures him.

“We don’t know that yet, the semester only started this week. Speaking of the new semester,” Alec sighs, lowering Rio to the ground before standing up. “I’m going to get started on some reading. I’ll leave you two boys alone, don’t get into too much trouble without me.”

Theo’s grin is wide when he seeks out Alec’s face, that smile widening further when Alec gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before meandering into the kitchen. Jason feels a renewed appreciation for his brother. He loved him before, but seeing the way Alec treats Theo—how deeply happy he makes him—well it’s impossible not to love him even more.

There’s nothing in the world that makes Jason happier than when the people he loves are happy.

“So,” Theo says, grabbing a paper plate off the top of the pizza box. “I was a little worried you might not make pizza night this week. I know once the semester starts it’s harder.”

“Don’t remind me. Between classes and practice, this week has been grueling, but the first game isn’t until next week, and I was feeling—” Jason pauses, trying to articulate it. He’s never been great at parsing his own emotions. He can tell when his friends and family need something but when it comes to himself, it’s more of a vague blob inside his chest most of the time. If he’s not happy, which he usually is, it’s kind of hard to make sense of it all. “I dunno.”

“You know nothing will change now that me and Alec are getting married, right? If that’s been on your mind.” Theo piles a plate with several slices of pizza before passing it to Jason. “You’re always going to be my best friend, and this is always going to be your second home.”

Jason takes too big a bite of pizza, nodding with his mouth full. He does know that, so he’s not sure what the unsettled feeling in his chest is, the one demanding he come visit Theo despite being exhausted after a full week of teaching and coaching. He’d stopped at his place to feed his dogs and take them for a walk but then came here immediately after.

“So,” Theo continues, clearly picking up on Jason’s disinterest in talking about himself. “How was the first week of classes?”

“Good,” Jason answers, popping open the can of his beer and gulping down enough to parch his thirst. “I’ve got a mix of grades this year, so it’ll be good to get a feel for all of them. A lot of the kids I’ve taught before, which is nice because then I know what they need, you know?”

“And the teachers? Caldwell still have a stick up his ass?”

“Fucking Caldwell,” Jason grumbles, frowning at the name alone. He’d been Theo and Jason’s senior English teacher and had made no secret of how much he disliked the football team when they were in school, a feeling which he apparently extends to football coaches. “He was a dick when we went there, and he’s still a dick now. Sometimes I wonder why he still has a job. Part of me thought he’d be nicer once I started teaching, but I swear every year that passes gets worse. He hates me. No one hates me, Theo.”

“To be fair, I think Caldwell hates everyone.”

Jason hums, knowing Theo is right but disliking it all the same. Rather than linger on Caldwell, his mind supplies him thoughts of someone else entirely. “There is one new teacher though.”

“He a dick too?” Theo asks.

“Nah,” Jason shakes his head. “He’s—interesting. Name’s Mr. Miller.”

Theo sits up straighter. “Interesting how?”

“I don’t know. He’s pretty for a guy.” Jason shrugs, thinking about Emerson’s distinctive hair and delicate features. He’s the kind of guy Jason might have pointed out to Theo in a club if he were still single. He glances over his shoulder to see Alec leaning over the kitchen island with his head buried in a text book, his headphones on and his pencil tapping a mile a minute. He’s pretty sure Alec can’t hear him, but he’s not willing to risk being murdered for voicing that thought out loud. “He was kind of a mess in an endearing way.”

“Damn, first day and you’ve already found a stray.”

“Emerson isn’t a stray,” Jason protests.

“Oh it’s Emerson and not Mr. Miller?” Theo arches an eyebrow and Jason curses. This is the downside to having the same best friend for over two decades. They notice everything. Even when there’s nothing to notice.

“Look, he was having a rough time, and I helped him out, and that’s that. I think he’s gonna be a good fit at the school,” he says, thinking of the little bit he overheard from Emerson’s first class. “We need more teachers like him. That’s all. I just wanna make sure he finds his place here. For the school.”

“For the school,” Theo echoes, something unreadable in expression.

“Exactly,” Jason grins, something in him settling. This was a good idea. Pizza, beer, and bestie time definitely cure all. His year is going to be great, and maybe he can make sure Emerson’s will be too. For the students, and the school of course. Not for any other reason at all.