"I've heard you have some… remarks about how I lead my class, Ms Clark."

The weekend was now over and instead of groveling by Kelly's feet the entire weekend he'd gone out with a few friends of his and had a good time. A really good time. Sadly, it left him with a lingering headache and a want for more. Which quite tired his patience and seeing Kelly throwing dirty glances in the hallway didn't help things. It wasn't easy being Mr. Congeniality where there was someone who hated his guts and had, despite it all, good reason to.

Naomi threw him a glance, sitting back at a desk, appearing as though he'd just said that it was snowing in Aspen. It was refreshing to be around someone who didn't have an obsessive need to talk about everything and to acknowledge the plainly obvious.

"You heard about that?" she asked, smiling broadly but the smile soon disappeared and she proceeded by staring at him as though she knew exactly what he was about, "So what of it?"

In an indifferent, official voice, he said simply: "If you have any comments about my teaching in the future I would appreciate it if you come to me with them instead of gossiping them around to the staff," He was extremely annoyed by it, especially because Kelly was most certainly going to voice her… theories to the principal and that would mean, since they were so close, that he would be more closely monitored than before. "Only because you're in high school doesn't mean I am. What you say does have repercussions."

Naomi laughed. "So you and Ms Taylor are hot and heavy after all? I heard rumors about it but… honestly, are teachers really allowed to date? I thought you all had to assign yourself to a convent or something before coming here."

Ryan smiled. Her wit was clearly underestimated. "Or get married. But that's pretty much the same thing."

"You know what, Matthews?" Naomi asked, leaning forward, only being about half a meter away, "You're so full of shit."

"Why thank you, Ms Clark. So you wouldn't mind if I gave your last essay a C, would you?"

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself.

Naomi flared up, the anger clearly visible on her face and for a moment, Ryan thought she'd slap him like she'd done to the Ward boy. But she didn't, unfortunately. Instead she sent him a glare and stormed out the classroom, declaring that he was impossible. Ryan watched her leave, grinning at her. He was going to give her an A though. It'd been a surprisingly good essay, and he was pretty certain it wasn't copied.

/

The next time he saw Naomi, she came into class looking like someone who had just jumped out of a fashion magazine. For once her curly hair had been subdued and she'd straightened it, which was surprising and he wasn't sure if it was entirely something that suited her. He'd seen her with her curly hair too many times so it'd sort of become part of her look. But she did look classy, very much so in fact. She looked more adult somehow… or maybe that was just her makeup talking.

As she walked in and took her place, Ryan's eyes swept over the room, noting that the boy George lingered his eye at his classmate a little bit longer than necessary whereas Naomi, as always, had no idea he existed. Interesting. He fought the urge to comment on her sudden appearance and managed not to in the end. After all – she wasn't late. Sometimes Ryan had the feeling that she showed up late just to spite him.

Not that he minded.

"Alright, everyone," he said, kicking off the day's first lesson, "Take your seats and we shall begin." He leaned over his desk, giving each of them a glance. Naomi stared at him defiantly, leaning back in her chair as though she was about to watch a show.

The idea of rocking that superior demeanor little was almost too tempting but thankfully he managed to suppress that urge till later. Right now he had a class to teach and everything else aside, he did love what he did for a living. It felt important.

"Did you all read the assignment for today?" His eyes scanned the crowd. Half of them were already asleep; a quarter was looking around confused over his sentence. Did they really have homework? The rest were nodding calmly. Ryan couldn't help but smile. "Come on people, I specifically said last week that to this lesson you had to read three chapters of the book." He took up his own copy and waved it in the air, hoping some of them would get the idea.

A passive murmur passed over the classroom. Most teachers probably threw a fit when the students didn't turn things in on time but Ryan wasn't one of them. In high school he'd been far from the model student so it felt hypocritical of him to get angry over something he did himself.

"Okay, it seems like some of you haven't read this…" Ryan scratched his chin, suddenly remembering that he'd forgotten to shave. Again. He needed to think of an alternative approach to this mess. So much for that lesson plan… He looked up again and saw sheer terror in some of their eyes. Okay, today he'd be the good cop. "Tell you what," he continued, "Pair yourselves into groups of three or four and discuss the book based on these questions," he gave a bunch of papers to the girl on the front row and watched as they were all given out to each student, "Hopefully there'll be at least two of you in your group that has actually read the book."

Some students giggled. Sarcasm was always a big crowd pleaser.

He sat back on his desk, not bothering to place himself on the chair. He wanted to be accessible in case there were any questions. He'd had too many teachers as a kid who preached behind a desk and that was all the wrong ways to go about it. He'd rather sit on his desk and participate in his lesson rather than observe it. High school kids might be filled with hormones but most of them weren't stupid. He could learn as much from his students as they could from him. That was the golden rule of society after all.

"Mr. Matthews," Naomi raised her perfectly manicured nails into the air.

Ryan bit his lip, not missing the little spark in Naomi's eye. This better be good…



Around them, people began to glance at them. The verbal abuse that Naomi had to endure English class was a source of great pleasure for her enemies and for her friends it was something that they observed so that they could talk about it during lunch later. He knew very well how teenagers worked.

"Yes, Naomi?"

"I met Ms Taylor in the hallway and she said that she wanted a word after class."

The room filled with a typical 'Ooooohhh' sound and the good mood that Ryan had been determined to have all day took a serious blow. Of course. Fucking perfect, wasn't it? He looked down briefly not to let his annoyance show, recomposed himself and looked up again, straight at Naomi.

"Okay, I'll remember that," he turned to the rest of the class. "Now finish those questions otherwise I'll make you write it as homework and we wouldn't want that would we?" He walked around to his desk and sat down on the chair. He needed to think.

/

The night had always been his friend, as far as Ryan was concerned. Most of the stuff that was done in the dark of night never saw the light of day, figuratively speaking. His secrets were kept secret and he was free to live his life as he pleased. As long he made certain not to go to the same club too often. He was familiar with the Beverly Hills scene so whenever he went he was probably considered a regular but he made certain to vary his hang-out spots. Today, he was meeting Charles and Lenny for a drink. And a smoke. But the latter was such a given that Ryan never considered it anymore.

The club was filled almost to the breaking point. The music was screaming out of the speakers and everyone was running around in designer clothes or with expensive drinks in their hands, pushing themselves around in the crowd, looking for their group. Ryan, on the other hand, did not have any drinks and as far as he was concerned, he didn't belong to a group. Charles and Lenny in their entire glory were, for all intents and purposes, assholes. Brainless assholes, but what didn't one endure in the name of childhood friendship?

He was almost by the corner, trying to squeeze himself between a few tables when suddenly he felt himself bump into a table. It wouldn't be that sever if it hadn't been that when he looked down his eyes came upon Naomi.

What was it was this girl? Was she everywhere or was he simply unconsciously stalking her? Or the other way around?

Preparing himself to continue about his business, because he really didn't feel like talking to a student on his day off, he suddenly noticed that her eyes were red and cheeks were slightly flushed. She was visibly upset about something and as much as it pained him to admit it and no matter how much he liked making her life just a little bit more difficult, he couldn't quite ignore the fact that she looked so fragile.

Maybe it was a bit of curiosity, a pinch of sympathy and a bit of respect that made him stay put.

Naomi, however, pretended to be oblivious to the fact that she was in a noisy club, crying by herself. "Oh, it's you," she said dryly, tilting her head upwards as though it would cheer her up. She tried her best to treat him like garbage but maybe it was because she was so vulnerable that Ryan got the impression that she rather have someone she could trash than sit by herself.

"Here to bitch about another paper?" she asked, trying as discretely as possible to wipe her tears.

Wow, it seemed to be quite serious. The realization dawned on him and as though it was muscle memory he sat down opposite Naomi before he had a chance to reflect. He wasn't Naomi Clark's biggest fan by a mile, but it was cruel to just ignore her. Besides, Charles and Lenny weren't even there yet and Naomi was about the most entertaining company he could find at the moment.

"What're you doing?" Naomi said, glaring at him through the glitter of her tears. Even though the lightning was dim they were clearly visible in the dark. "Go and be a loser somewhere else, will you?"

She took a sip of her drink, alcoholic no doubt, and tried to not-so-gracefully ignore him by looking in another direction. Ryan smiled. He had to give her credit. She wasn't going down without a fight, was she?

They sat in silence for a while. As Naomi realized that he wasn't going anywhere, she began to look more in his direction, but she still tried to not to look at him. She probably wanted to be alone, but if she did she'd chosen a seriously fucked up place to be alone in. They continued a few moments more in the same silent manner, which was only interrupted when he himself ordered a drink, before Naomi decided to acknowledge his presence.

"Why are men such assholes?" She looked up at him again, looking straight at him, her voice trembling and Ryan imagined that it took great strength for her not to break down. In a few moments he'd gotten more respect for her than he'd ever had in a year.

He did not rush the question, but rather took a moment to think about it. What was he supposed to say? 'Sorry kid, that's life' or was he supposed to give her a more hopeful sort of answer? Truth be told, he'd rather avoid conversations like these since he was terribly bad at them. Not to mention that he belonged to the category that believed that words weren't much of a comfort.

"Don't know. Flawed DNA?"

Naomi's lips curled upwards slightly but it was not yet a smile. She looked down in her drink, creating circles with the little umbrella. "Good one." Her voice seemed to have lost all glow and force.

Ryan took a large sip of his drink. Vodka, lovely stuff. "You realize that's probably the first decent thing you've ever said to me?"



Naomi looked at him, her eyes indifferent, as though she told him that if he was looking for excuses he better look somewhere else. Whatever, it wasn't as though he was looking for one. Most students worshipped the ground he walked on and thought he was all that, so it was nice to have at least one in the audience that was constantly skeptical.

Naomi took the drink in her hand, sweeping it all down in one sip. "I need another one," she said, "And if you stop me, I might just kill you." With that she walked over to the bar. Ryan leaned back, observing the scene. Well, he wasn't stopping her. It was her life.

After an hour or two, the initial awkwardness of getting wasted with your teacher subsided and while drinking they began to share stories. Not about themselves, no because that was against the Rules, but of people around them. Mostly of how people around them were so unbelievably stupid and all the crap stuff they got themselves up to. Neither of them had any expectations of the other and before Ryan really had the chance to realize the fact that he was talking with a student, he'd begun talking about Charles, Lenny and the rest of his asspack of friends and the time where they had decided to drive, drink and party all at once and they had ended up in a ditch. Okay, that had happened more than once, but he wasn't telling Naomi that.

"You know what, Ryan," Naomi said, putting the drink aside for a minute, laughing, "You're not quite the loser I pegged you out to be."

"Likewise."

They both laughed. He refilled his own drink. At this point he'd given up ordering drinks and had progressed to bottles. However, he never refilled Naomi's drink. She was still not quite allowed to drink and it was up to her whether or not she was to have another one, so that was her job to fill her own. Naomi reached over for the vodka, refilling her glass.

There was an unspoken agreement that they'd split the tab later.

"Haha. At school, people adooore me," Naomi said, laughing as she watched the alcohol land in her glass, "They wanna be me." The bottle landed on the table with a large thump on the table. For a moment it looked as though it would fall over, but thankfully, it didn't. Ryan looked at her as she spoke, shaking his head.

"You're telling me. 'Oh, Mister Matthews, you're such a goooooood teacher. Can you give me an A because I really deserve it'."

Naomi raised her eyebrows, still laughing. "Seriously? That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard."

She refilled her glass.

"Most people tend to be." Ryan began to search his pocket. Damn, he wanted a smoke. The alcohol had, besides making a bit more disoriented, also made him crave a good smoke. The years of combining drugs and drinks left its marks.

"You lookin' for something?" Naomi asked, staring at his hands roaming around in his pockets.

Fuck. The only reason he was even here tonight to begin with was because he was out and Lenny was going to give him some. Double fuck.

Suddenly, Naomi suddenly dove into her purse, searching for a bit before fishing out a perfect smoke. Sure, it was a regular one and not his usual preference, but it was better than nothing. He raised an eyebrow at his table-sharing friend. "You smoke?" he asked, sounding suspicious.

"No," Naomi said flatly, "Just at parties. I just keep them in my bag in case anyone else does."

Ryan nodded, taking the cigarette. "I'll be back in a while then."

TBC