When the bell rang, Travis let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. His plan had succeeded. He walked with confidence into that room, dressed in samurai garb, ready to enlighten the others, including Waller, on the other side of the Boxer Rebellion. After about ten minutes, though, he was floundering for more to say. He couldn't believe that everything was crumbling so quickly. Travis' heart had sank when the others began to chant "cuckoo" like they had so many times before. It would have been enough to make him admit defeat and sit down when his own nemesis, Waller, actually stepped in to help.
The thought made him turn to face his principal. After what happened, Travis started to think that maybe he had been wrong about the older man. So much time had been spent fighting Waller that he never actually thought about him as a person. Sure, he hated RFR, but that was because it threatened the peaceful environment he created. To Travis, the radio station was an outlet, a forum for free opinion, a place where he can be at his most calm. For Waller, it was nonconformity, which meant chaos. He knew chaos wouldn't be tolerated if the system wanted to work. Travis finally seemed to understand that. He didn't like it, nor did he agree with it, but he understood it, and respected Waller's anger at it.
There was no anger in Waller at that moment, though. Only quiet dignity as he looked at Travis with an expression akin to affection on his face. With a start, Travis realized he was staring. A blush formed at his cheeks, one he didn't want to think too hard on its existence, and he fought it down.
"Um, Mr. Waller?" he asked.
"Yes, Mr. Strong?" Waller replied, crisply.
Travis took a deep breath before speaking, "I- I just wanted to thank you. And apologize. You really helped me back there when you could have let me fail. I'm sorry for embarrassing you before. I got cocky. Now I see that teaching isn't so simple as it seems. Thank you for helping me see that."
"Well, Mr. Strong, that is my job. To educate. You made a mistake. I'm not going to say that I didn't make one as well. I should have looked up the material more carefully. Consider us even, son." He patted Travis' shoulder lightly and Travis had to fight down that blush again.
"Even so, sir. Thank you. By the way, what did you think of the book?"
"Fascinating. I had no idea those people were so deceived by their empress. Or about how outlandish the stories they were told. It surely makes for great history, however tragic it is," Waller said.
Travis nodded. "Yes, I agree. This has always been a period that I was enthralled with."
"Oh? Is that so, Mr. Strong?"
"Yeah. Sometimes I feel like I was born at the wrong time." Travis grinned.
Waller smiled back, but it came out as sort of a grimace. "No one is ever born at the wrong time, son."
"Perhaps. But when I start to talk about the Rebellion and other aspects of that time, my friends just tune me out or mock me." Travis paused. "Maybe someday you and I can discuss it. As colleagues, even."
Waller laughed a little nervously. "Well, that day is a long time coming, unfortunately. But you know the door to my office is always open, should you need to talk to someone."
"I know, sir. Thank you," he replied.
They stood there a few moments, unable to think of something else to say. The air in the room was thick and uncomfortable and, for once, Travis thought it wasn't just him. Waller was looking a little fidgety, more so than usual anyway, and the notion that he might be the cause made Travis' insides flip. Again, he didn't want to contemplate that too closely. He just knew that he had to leave, but didn't want to.
Waller broke the silence, as if sensing his thoughts, "Don't you have another class to get to?"
"Oh. Right. Yes, of course I do. I better go then." He turned to walk to the door and then stopped suddenly.
"Was there something else, Mr. Strong?" he asked.
It was the sound of Waller's voice that suddenly made Travis do what he did. He wasn't sure why, but he turned back and walked up to Waller. "Just this." Travis hesitated for just a second before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Call me Travis."
"T—that is inappropriate," Waller stuttered.
Travis didn't answer, just shrugged and walked back to the door and out. He knew he didn't want to think about what he just did too much, but he knew he would anyway. Especially when he got home, with nothing but the image of Waller touching his cheek and blushing brightly, eyes cartoonishly wide. The thought didn't seem so bad anymore. Travis smiled and headed to his next class.