The bell usually brought a swift hustle from every kid in the room, but today James dragged his feet, planting them at the other side of Soul's desk. "Mr. E?"
The chair creaked as Soul leaned back, giving himself room to tap against the ruined old wood surface. "What's up, James?"
He narrowed those icy blue eyes at Soul, the hard squint of a kid trying to solve a puzzle. "You know that new guidance counselor?"
"Uh, sure. Ms. Albarn, right?" He tried to offer that like the weather, but he couldn't say his interest wasn't piqued.
There was a pause, a brief shuffle of feet before James cleared his throat. "She told me what you did."
What I did? His jaw wanted to plant on his chest, but Soul managed to keep it aloft enough to form the words: "And what's that?"
"About the stuff with my classes." James glanced towards the doorway before locking eyes back with him. "She got me transferred out of Parson's class to Mr. Kid's, and I wasn't there, but some of the other kids told me she flipped a shit on Ferrera. Threatened him with some guidance counselor stuff."
Soul tried not to let the shellshock set in, but his head was still whirling at the description. What the hell is guidance counselor stuff? And a transfer? How the fuck– and why the fuck would she give me the credit? "It sorta sounds like you should be thankin' Ms. Albarn."
"Well, I mean, I thanked her too, but she said it was you who suggested it, so… really, thanks, Mr. E." James shoved his hands awkwardly in his pockets, shoulder hunching slightly. "It doesn't really matter if I graduate, but–"
"James, it does." Soul leaned forward quickly, catching the boy's wandering eyes. "Listen, Ms. Albarn went out on a limb, okay? And I pushed for you too, so it does matter. You're gonna do this, you just needed some help first. So don't just thank me. Use what you got."
"I will." James shuffled for an extra minute before finally making the traditional hurried exit.
Soul sat staring at the door, mind still somewhere on a tilt-a-whirl. His hand reached for the phone, but it only got far enough to absently tap the plastic of the receiver. He sighed, straightened his tie, and left with a little too much urgency to his steps.
Mid-bite was never the time for guests, but Maka had no choice as the door simply opened without a knock. The mouthful of apple kept her from spitting venom at whoever dared to barge in without warning.
"Maka–" She was now all too well-aware of her comically chipmunked cheek as that asinine smirk—the one that maybe she could call handsome—broke across Soul's face. Worse yet, the chuckling started as he leaned in the doorway. "Sorry, see you're busy."
She covered her mouth, hoping that her eyes were transcribing the message: Stop being an ass and tell me why you're here interrupting my sweet, silent revelry after twenty student appointments, three parent meltdowns, and one very pissed off Science teacher.
Soul seemed to catch at least a piece of this mental tirade as he continued: "But James King stopped me today after class."
She raised her eyebrows.
"Wanted to thank me– even though I'm pretty sure I heard it was you who did all the dirty work." He was no longer on display in the doorway, taking a step in so he could shut it gently behind him. The room was a thousand times smaller with just the two of them. "Did you seriously tell off Ferrera?"
Maka nodded, mouth clear of apple but now entirely useless when forming complete full sentences in the closeness that wasn't closeness. Is my blood sugar low or maybe I need more sleep because it's just– it's just him. Why does it feel like– like I have no idea what–
"Fuck." Soul chuckled, giving her some space as he stood straight to toss a hand through his hair. "I can't believe you did that over one kid. Maka, seriously–"
"It doesn't matter if it's one kid," Maka finally cut in sharply. "He needed help, and that's what I do. You had a way to fix the problem, so I don't see why it wasn't being done in the first place." She waggled her apple-filled hand at him. "And I gave you credit because you earned it. James placed trust in you for a reason, and that trust was what got him to agree to whatever I did."
"That's…" Suddenly there was a glow to his face that she couldn't stand, his smirk blossoming to ridiculous proportions. "That's really cool."
That smile is handsome. How that idea could both light a fire in her chest and send an icy stab to her gut was beyond her, but Maka lived through it all the same. She forced the apple back towards her mouth, trying to keep any idiocy from passing her lips.
"So, uh…" His eyes trailed away along with his words, his back suddenly tapping against the door. "Thanks for that. If there's ever anything else…"
"Well," Maka mumbled impolitely through another bite which she tried to cover with the back of her hand. "That's what we should do. Work together like partners."
"Yeah, cool." He rubbed at the back of his neck, feet shuffling like he was going to turn for the door. Soul did get far enough that his hand touched the knob, but he hesitated. "Layla really liked you."
"I liked her too," Maka offered quietly, dropping her hand away from her face. "We have some things in common."
"She said the same thing." His smile was still there, but those ruby eyes were suddenly searching for something in her face. "Well, okay, partners. I'll stop interruptin' your lunch."
Maka rolled her eyes. "I eat more than an apple. I just had a lot of meetings today and I need a pick-me-up."
"Not coffee?" Soul replied, now resting against the door instead of actually going anywhere.
Soul.
Spl milk.
No sugar.
She cleared her throat, hoping that the warmth that threatened to climb from there to her ears was staying put instead of flushing her cheeks. "I drank all I had this morning and meetings meant not leaving the building."
"You don't have to," he answered jovially. "Think you can walk and eat that apple at the same time?"
Maybe for a split second that was funny, making a smile dash across her cheeks before she squashed it. "I believe I'm that talented, yes." She got up from her desk but still couldn't close any distance between the two of them. It was a maximum of three steps before she was right on his toes.
"Then c'mon." He opened the door, easing out into the hallway to let her follow. She tried to absently munch, paying attention to the crisp fruit rather than the broad span of his shoulders or the way he'd rolled up his sleeves to show a bit of tan skin. "You can go to the shitty cafeteria if you really want."
"Do you really talk like that in the hallway?" Maka piped, glancing at a few student faces as she passed.
"Doesn't matter to them"—he waved an absent hand at the rabble as they passed—"and the only person who's ever said boo about it is you just now. We're not exactly a prep school."
"Do you curse like that during class?" She continued the incredulity, watching as it made his smirk blossom.
"Sometimes." He chuckled before glancing at her, eyes lingering over her face. "Layla gets on me now since she's old enough. Don't think that'll make me quit though."
"What would?" Maka added an extra step to her pace, coming shoulder to shoulder with him before snapping into her apple again.
He chuckled– a deep, healthy reverberation from his chest. "Maybe if you stuck a bar of soap in my mouth?" Added warmth rushed over her as his elbow prodded into her arm gently. "Sorta that last bit of cool I get to hold on to. Between the tie and– well, just life. Not really in my ragin' teens anymore." His laugh sobered, drying as he raised a hand to motion towards an upcoming door on their right. "Now, this's the place."
The tie and what? Maka wanted to ask but it was obvious the conversation was dead, murdered by his opening the door and ushering her in. Could it be called a faculty room? Not exactly. It had more in common with a closet than a room, but along the far wall was someone's old living room end table, adorned with one of the most beautiful contraptions known to man: a single brew coffee maker.
"Now, they hide some extra pods in the drawer"—he stepped forward to slide open the one in question—"but if you take it's only nice to replace. Usually they're just crap flavors people don't want, but caffeine is caffeine."
"You're a real addict, aren't you?" Without thought she moved to his side and it was a terrifying jolt for her to stop her own nudge before it happened. Her sway was about to bring her into contact—something that she really only limited to Blake—and it had happened horrifyingly easily. Their eyes met, and Maka tried out that old, bitter mantra she inherited from her mother: When it's a smile that handsome, there's no way you can trust it.
"Guilty." His warm laugh had returned, blazing away the chill she was trying to grip. His admission only fit with her original question, that smile in no way a ruse. "So, you need a cup, it's here. Now you can't say I've never done you any favors."
"I never said that in the first place," she snapped at the accusation but all he did was offer another chuckle.
"I guess payback for the thing with James, then." He took a step back, giving her space that didn't feel anything more than an inch. "You need me to guide you back?"
She instantly rolled her eyes. "I think I left a trail of breadcrumbs, thanks."
"Then…" He put a hand on the door, giving her one last flash of a smile. "I'll see you around."
Around. It was the way he refused to lose her eyes until the door shut between them that made her freeze. The clack of it closing started the thaw but it wasn't until she heard her mama's voice again that she could move, clutching her hand to her head.
When it's a smile that handsome, there's no way you can trust it.
She brushed at her bangs, trying to pull in a slow breath.
This time it was that sweet lilt that was still new: "Papa needs friends."
Well, that's alright. Maka forced another lengthy inhale. Friends. Handsome smile or no, we'll just be friends.
