Nicholas Gold glanced down at his watch more than ready for the evening to begin. The sooner it began, the sooner it would be over. Ever since he'd began teaching, he'd hated reunion nights. The periodic pilgrimage of forgotten students to their old high school always left him feeling much less than impressed.
Most of these kids weren't even worth being remembered. Not in a bad way, they were just faces to be taught. As long as Nick had been teaching mathematics, he'd seen a lot of faces. Most kids hated him simply because of the subject he taught and he was fine with that. Mathematics was a precise art, it required patience, skill, and determination. Not a skill set normally found in a high schooler more concerned with their date to the upcoming dance.
This particular reunion however, the ten year mark for the class, was one Nick was especially dreading. Fourteen years ago, he'd gotten word that a freshman had been placed into his junior level honors precalculus class. He'd been furious, flying into Principal Swan's office and demanding to know why some wee freshman, wet behind the ears, was allowed into his space. Principal Swan had laughed at him, to his face, and merely told him to give her a chance. Her! Apparently, this girl was something of a miracle with numbers and had placed fairly into his class. Fuming he'd left the office, determined to have the girl begging to transfer to freshman geometry before the first week was over.
How wrong he'd been.
On the first day of school, in had walked one of the smallest girls he'd ever seen. Not only was she entirely wee, but her face, hidden behind ridiculous chestnut ringlets, contained the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.
Though her appearance had deterred him slightly, he'd soldiered on with his plan, he was going to crack this Belle French. That first week had been hell. He'd thrown placement test after pop quiz after extra homework. He'd lost three of the juniors that actually should have been in the class.
Not Belle. No, she'd done everything he'd asked of her, and she'd done it well. Swan had been right, she was a wonder.
She'd been done with his classes, precalculus, AP calculus, and AP statistics by the end of her sophomore year. He'd sat with her final exams that year and marveled how she'd finished it all. The marvel was quickly squashed by a sadness that he wouldn't have her as a student come fall.
Imagine his surprise when Principal Swan informed him that Ms. French had signed up to his TA. She spend the remainder of her high school days in his classroom, grading his papers, making his coffee, and just being someone to talk to.
He knew it was inappropriate to feel anything more for her than fatherly affection, but he wasn't her father, even with their considerable age difference. Every day he'd fallen more and more in love with Belle French until he couldn't picture his life without her.
She turned 18 a month before she graduated and it had been the hardest month of her life, keeping his mouth shut while she was still his student. Finally, graduation rolled around and…nothing.
She'd slipped away after the ceremony and he'd never heard from her again.
Nick still wasn't sure how he hadn't killed his liver considering all the drinking he did in that summer. Now, ten years later, he was feeling as shaky as he did right after he'd quit.
Any moment now, any moment and she could walk through those doors.
Nick ran a hand through his now greying hair. He hadn't wished so hard for a drink in a while.
Why hadn't he just skipped this damned event? Principal Swan didn't really have any control over him, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd ditched a school event. No, just the thought of seeing his Belle, his after all these years and all this heartbreak, had him standing in the stuffy gym watching half inflated balloons pool on the floor.
Suddenly, the doors opened and the first wave of guests spilled into the room. Nick didn't recognize the first group, but a man much larger than those around him caught his eye. Gaston.
He'd dated Belle for a New York minute her junior year. It had been the first time Nick had thought about actually harming one of his students.
Gaston waved at him and he stiffly nodded his head in acknowledgment. Gaston was wearing a ring. Nick blanched. He shouldn't be here. He couldn't just stand here like a sitting duck. He had to get out of here.
The band introduced themselves and began their first song attracting the attention of the people arriving to the hall. Nick spun on his heel, fully prepared to stalk off to his classroom when he slammed into something.
With an ooph, he grabbed whatever had been in his way, half to steady himself, half to prevent the other person from falling.
Finally standing on his own two feet, he almost fell out of shock.
"Belle."
She was here, in the flesh. In front of him. How she snuck up behind him, he had no idea. The smell of her permeated every pore of his being.
He'd missed her.
"You're real." He stammered, squeezing her shoulders lightly.
She smiled, oh how he missed that smile, "Yes, I am. Hello Mr. Gold." She took a step back gently extracting herself from his grip.
That hurt.
Nick cleared this throat, willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. "Ms. French, I mean, I'm sorry. You surprised me."
She chuckled, "Well, that would be a first."
He allowed his eyes to sweep over her, appreciating the change ten years had had on her body. No longer the beautiful teenager, straddling the line between childhood and adulthood, but a woman. The most stunning woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He paused as he sneakily inspected her left hand. No ring. So she hadn't run off with Gaston then?
He swallowed, wishing again for that drink, and ran his hand through his hair once more. "You, look well. Please enjoy the festivities."
He'd gotten to see her, gotten to touch her. He'd heard her voice. It was more than he could've dreamed about and it would give him a warmth for many nights to come.
He forced himself to turn away from her, again facing the door to the hallway that led to the rest of the school, he could hide in his classroom until he was required for clean up. Maybe some painful manual labor could help wring her scent out of his mind.
He had his hand on the door when her voice reached him once more.
"Mr. Gold? Are you leaving? Already?"
Did she sound…sad? Why would she be sad? She'd run off at graduation? She'd been repulsed by the affections of her old monster of a math teacher.
He turned, only catching a glimpse of her in his peripheral vision, "Yes, dearie, I think it's for the best that I go. You have fun."
He heard the clack of her shoes on the hard gym floor before she was right next to him again, her hand on his arm. He stopped breathing.
"I didn't come all this way for you to get away from me again."
Nick almost stumbled at that. "Me?! You're the one that left! Ten years, Belle! Where have you been for ten years?!"
Belle took a step back as if he'd struck her. In some ways, he had. All the anger and disappointment from so long ago boiling to the surface. She glanced down at the floor before meeting his eyes again and taking a breath.
"Of course I left. What man would have wanted a silly, lovesick girl." She laughed bitterly. "I've spent these last ten years trying to find my own happiness, choosing my own path, but even after all this time, I'm back here trying to find you."
Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. She'd thought he'd been rebuffing her?! He laughed out loud, the situation was that ludicrous.
He pushed open the door, gesturing for her to follow him, the band was getting too loud to think. The short walk to his classroom transported him further than the ten years she'd been gone, back to a time when she'd last walked these halls with him. He should've gone after her.
He unlocked his door and held it open for her, she moved inside, forgoing the lights. The moon spilled enough into the room that they could see.
With the door closed behind him, Nicholas knew it was now or never. He took a deep breath. "Belle, how could you think I didn't want you? Then, you were the most beguiling creature I'd ever seen and now?"
She looked up at him, tears caught on her long lashes. "Now?"
"Now, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever beheld. You don't want to come back to your past and mess with me." He sighed, she didn't deserve him.
He studied the floor, waiting for the sound of the door so he could go feel in private. He felt a hand again on his arm and his head snapped up.
"You don't get to decide what I want, Nicholas Gold, I do." She stated, purpose in her eyes. She took a step forward, sliding her hands up his chest before she entwined them around his neck. Was this really happening? He had Belle French in his arms.
This was the moment. The one he'd been waiting for. He couldn't curse the lost years because that wouldn't bring them back, all he could do was move forward. He slid one arm around her waist holding her in place, the other slid into her curls.
"Oh, Belle." He breathed as she softly closed the distance between them.
Ten years and two days and he was kissing Belle French. Her lips were soft under his as she melted into his embrace. He gripped her curls more tightly, shifting her ever so much allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth. The mewls she made in his ear were sweeter than the most satisfying equation.
With a giggle, she broke away to breath, quickly pressing one more light kiss to his lips. Her blue eyes were sparkling with warmth as she tucked herself against his chest.
Ten years and two days had seemed to be an eternity, but if it ended with Belle French in his arms, it had all been worth it.