The chalk squealed as Callum dragged it across the board, finishing the last equation with a sigh before setting the eraser to work. The gentle sweep of the foam against the whiteboard was the only sound in the empty room. The last period had ended fifteen minutes ago, and he was savoring the rare, quiet lull.
Then—
"Mr. Hayes?"
The voice made him freeze.
He turned slowly, already knowing who it was.
Lara stood at the back of the room, her schoolbag still slung beside her desk, arms folded across her chest, head slightly bowed. Her voice was small. Not her usual teasing cadence or honey-dipped purr. There was no glint in her eyes.
Only stillness. And something—off.
"Yes?" he asked carefully.
She stepped forward once. A hesitant move. Then another.
"I… didn't know who else to talk to."
His stomach twisted.
There was no flirtation. No performance.
Her face was pale, and her eyes didn't rise to meet his until the last second. And when they did, he nearly stepped back.
Raw. That was the word for it. Unvarnished grief. Or a near-perfect imitation.
But his body betrayed him.
His heart beat faster—not from attraction. Not even fear. But something worse.
Empathy.
That dangerous, human softness.
"My parents are finally divorced," she said. Barely above a whisper.
He stood still.
"They haven't told anyone. I wasn't supposed to find the papers. But I did."
Her hands fidgeted at her sides. She rubbed one wrist with her opposite hand, like trying to smooth away some invisible bruise.
He said nothing.
And then her fingers lifted to her eyes. Wiped fast.
Tears.
Real. Not dramatic, showy sobs. But thick, slow drops that clung to her lashes before spilling down.
She was crying.
The sight made something inside him splinter.
She sniffed. "I know it's not your job to care. But you're the only adult here who ever seems like they're actually listening."
He exhaled—quiet, long, like deflating.
"Come here," he said softly.
She moved.
Deliberate steps. Slow.
He didn't touch her.
But she touched him.
Arms circled around his middle. Her face pressed into his chest. She trembled—faintly, like a small creature trying not to shatter.
And he stood frozen. Arms hovering at his sides.
She clung tighter.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shirt. "I didn't mean to fall apart. I just… needed someone."
His hand rose cautiously. Stiff fingers barely grazing her back. Professional. Measured. Comforting.
That's all it was.
That's all it had to be.
Then—
knock knock knock
He flinched.
She didn't move.
click.
The door locked.
His breath vanished.
"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, pushing her gently back. His heart thudding at the realization that he has a female student and locked doors and no matter what it looks bad.
Lara looked startled. "I didn't want anyone to see me crying—"
Another knock.
"Mr. Hayes?"
The voice made his spine stiffen.
Ms. Kim.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
He rushed to the door, fingers fumbling at the knob.
It wouldn't budge.
He spun back. "Under the desk. Now."
Lara didn't argue. She dropped instantly, crawling beneath the wide oak desk.
Callum wiped his face, forced his mouth into something that resembled calm, and unlocked the door with trembling fingers.
He cracked it open.
Ms. Kim smiled brightly, a folder in her hand. "Hey! Sorry to bug you. I figured you might still be here."
"Yeah," he said quickly. Too quickly. "Just finishing up."
She stepped in.
He moved back automatically, trying to block the view.
"I have the new submission forms for the Math Club grants," she said. "Thought I'd drop them off in person."
He nodded, tight. "Sure. Let me take a look."
She took another step—closer to the desk.
His heartbeat roared.
"Here—have a seat," he said suddenly, yanking the nearest chair around and pulling it across from his own.
Ms. Kim blinked. Surprised.
But she sat.
Callum sat down, face arranged in a mask of tired calm. The desk loomed between them, but beneath it—he could feel Lara.
Her breath.
Her presence.
Knees nearly touching his.
Every instinct in his body screamed with tension.
"This is the updated budget?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Ms. Kim nodded. "With your edits. We just need your sign-off before Thursday. Everything's been approved, by the way. They loved your student proposal."
He gave a weak smile. "Great. That's… good."
His fingers flipped the pages mindlessly. His eyes flicked toward the floor every few seconds.
He could feel Lara shift slightly beneath the desk—barely a motion—but enough to make his throat tighten.