Rafael Solano never meant to become a teacher. All through his education, he was always that one kid who always seemed to coast through school with charm and his contribution to the championship swim team. He never knew anyone could be as happy as he was the day he finally was handed his diploma. A career in teaching was about the last thing he ever thought he would do. That is, until an administrative error ended him up in a "Designing Curriculum & Instruction" class and, well, it all started from there.

And he really loves teaching. He really, really loves it, he does. After he gets over the early hours, meager pay, and the smell of sweaty middle schoolers, he looks forward to teaching his students all he can about History. Since he was hired a couple years ago, he quickly was made a favorite among his eighth graders- especially the girls, a fact that he pretends not to notice- and even was given the privilege of being assistant coach to the swim team. His coworkers were decent, the parents are usually too over swept by his charisma to scream at him too badly, and he's yet to have a girl- ahem, woman- to, ah, mensturate for the first time in one of his classes. There are few things that could have make him happier with his job.

Until the seventh grade English teacher retired, that is.

It's not even that he didn't like Mrs. G. She was a very nice woman, always passing out candy and trying to set all the other young, eligible bachelors up with her daughter, who Rafael has met and is also, admittedly, a lesbian. She was fine, as far as most people go. The thing that was good about her leaving was her replacement.

"Heard the new Mrs. G starts today." Zaz, his best friend and the sixth grade Math teacher, started off with as he sat across from his seat in the teacher's lounge before school one morning.

"Hm?" Rafael mumbles through a mouth full of Cheerios.

"I also heard that she isn't hard on the eyes, either." Zaz snickers and wags his eyebrows, which makes Rafael roll his eyes and nudge his friend with his elbow.

"Don't nail the new English teacher, I'm begging you." He still smiles, holding back his laugh just enough for Zaz to know he's amused.

Zaz holds his hands up in his defense. "Hey, I'm just putting that out there." And, with a wink, he exits the teacher's lounge, leaving Rafael and his styrofoam bowl full of soggy Cheerios alone. Shaking his head light-heartedly, he looks down at his cereal to decide that a nutritious breakfast is just not worth it, and stands up to throw out his trash. He does so, and checks around to make sure he hasn't left anything behind before turning to leave, only to run straight into someone.

"Oh!" They both gasp, stumbling back as a box the other person, who turns out to be an unfamiliar woman, was holding drops to the ground.

"Dammit!" The woman groans, falls to her knees to pick up everything that came out of the box when it dropped.

"Here, let me help." He kneels in front of her and collects as much as he can, until everything is gathered, when they finally look up at each other so he can hand her all the papers he managed to grab and-

Alright.

She's attractive. Very attractive, in this endearing way that also isn't that endearing at all, and he's kind of feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

"Here," He tries his best to turn on the charm, but finds it kind of hard, which has never happened before.

"Thanks," She replies with a smile and takes the papers, never breaking eye contact.

They stay like that for a beat before Rafael speaks. "Uh, sorry I ran into you."

She reddens and sheepishly looks down. "O-oh, no, my bad, I wasn't looking where I was going." Slowly, they both get to their feet, and she reaches out a hand to shake. "Um, I'm Jane. Jane Villanueva, I'm the new English teacher."

His eyes widen a bit as he takes her hand, remembering what Zaz had been saying about her looks earlier. Well, he wasn't wrong. "Rafael Solano. You're the new Mrs. G?"

She giggles and he kind of wants to make the sound his ringtone. "I guess, yeah. You're the first person to call me that, but sure."

He grins. "Well, Mrs. Villan-"

"It's Miss, actually." She corrects him with a smirk, and his heart soars a little.

Trying to act as collected as possible, he nods, smile growing. "Miss Villanueva. If you need any help with anything at all, just let me know."

She jolts as if remembering something, and pulls a folded sheet of paper out from the pocket of her dress. "Yes, actually, do you think you could help me find room 203?"

This is it. This is your big break. "Of course, it's just- here, let me show you." As casually as possible, he leads her out from the doorway of the faculty lounge and in the direction of the classroom she's in search for. On their way, they fall into a silence that's not awkward, but not really comfortable, either, the both of them waiting for the other to say something. "So…" Rafael jams his hands into his pockets. "What brings you to Miami Central?"

She shifts the box in her hands. "Oh, you know. I graduated, I needed a job, et cetera et cetera. I've lived here my whole life, so I figured I might as well stay where I know."

"Have you always wanted to be a teacher?"

"Well, I don't know. I've always liked kids and I liked school enough, so I figured this would be a good fit for me." She shrugs her shoulder. "I love it, I do. A lot."

She's uncomfortable, and he can tell. "But it's not what you want to do?" He guesses, raising an eyebrow, and she reddens.

"I-I mean…" She stammers for a moment, searching for an answer, but seems to give up. "How could you tell?"

"Just a guess." He pauses. "What do you want to do, then?"

She shrugs again, the side of her mouth rising just enough for Rafael to detect it. "I always… Kind of wanted to write?" The end is more of a question than a statement, and she looks up to meet his gaze. She laughs in disbelief. "I've never really said that out loud, I don't think." Her excitement makes him smile bigger than he should. "I never really followed through with that because… It just isn't practical, I guess." She answers exactly what he was going to ask before he even needed to. "I'm sorry. I can't believe I just met you and I'm telling you all this."

"No, no." He shakes his head. "I'm glad you did." He's about to open his mouth to add more, but a quick glance up makes him realize they've reached their destination. "Well," He stops, turns to face her. "Here we are."

"Here we are." She repeats, a little more softly. A moment passes with them just staring at each other without speaking, but they're interrupted by the warning bell sounding off. "You didn't… You didn't have to walk me all the way up here, you might be late to your homeroom."

Her concern makes his stomach flip a little. "Don't worry about it. You can pay me back by letting me read your first book."

She laughs. "It's a deal." She sticks her hand out and they shake on it. "Thank you, Mr. Solano."

"No problem, Miss Villanueva."

He is late to homeroom, which his students give him grief for, but he finds it difficult for himself to care.