"I made art."

It was Friday, fifth period, and as promised, Emma had brought the extra grilled cheese to give to Ms. Mills as she stayed after class once again.

"You made art? Congratulations." Ms. Mills chuckled softly and carefully unwrapped the grilled cheese, muttering a "thank you" before taking a bite of it.

"Yeah. In art class, yesterday. I made something for you." She smiled proudly, pulling out a thick piece of parchment from her bag and handed it to the teacher. On it were the letters that made up Regina Mills and below that, in the bottom right corner, was Emma's signature of E. Swan.

"It's very good," she praised and moved to hand it back, but Emma shook her head.

"No, I want you to keep it."

"Thank you." Ms. Mills' smile touched her eyes. "I should hang this up on my wall of art."

"You have a wall?" Emma blinked, a sting of jealousy wringing through her.

"I believe the question you are looking for is if I have other students' art. And the answer is no." Ms. Mills' smile faded somewhat as she brought out a tack to place the new artwork on the poster board by her desk. The only other items tacked to the board were a calendar and a paper that stated the school day schedule.

"No one's ever made you anything? I thought people did that?"

"For their favorite teachers and, dear, let me tell you that I am no one's favorite." She rolled her chair back in place, eyes now locked on the partially eaten grilled cheese on her desk. Emma had noticed the tone that she had taken, and it made her frown.

"That can't be all true."

"Obviously, I am not deaf, Emma." Ms. Mills still hadn't taken her eyes away from the sandwich. "I do realize that I can be harsh sometimes, but I am merely doing my job. Being lenient - a friend of the students - does not get you very far. Being assertive is what I know." She sighed softly. "And that is why they call me names behind my back and leave my class."

"You can't be so sure. Maybe they didn't want to take this class. I should know. We just wanna take ones that promise easy grades so we have a smooth year." Emma shrugged, frowning at the way Ms. Mills' voice had shifted, as if she were afraid to speak her thoughts. It just made Emma's heart sink.

"No." Emma barely heard the negative comment. She leaned forward as Ms. Mills began to speak once again. "Mr. Booth's class grew. My students transferred, Emma. And it isn't just for Creative Writing."

"But we aren't allowed to switch teachers?" Emma furrowed her brows.

"They have their ways. Mr. Hopper is a pushover and when students come to him demanding they get a different teacher because they don't want to fail, well…" She chuckled darkly.

"Fuck," she mumbled.

"Language, Miss Swan, or have you forgotten that you're speaking with a teacher?" Ms. Mills quirked a brow, but the menace was absent.

"Sorry…"

"It's quite alright. I must apologize for telling you this. I shouldn't pour my grievances on you." She offered a tight, plastic smile before going back to her grilled cheese, making a mild look of distaste when she had found it cold.

"It's fine, honestly." Emma shrugged and played with a blonde lock that fell in front of her face.

"It's not, Emma. I've just…" Ms. Mills furrowed her brows. "I haven't told anyone this, yet, and it's been brewing for a while now."

"Oh… I thought that you'd have more friends. I mean… Usually teachers are friends with each other being coworkers and all."

"Barely. I only talk with a few, but I can't call them friends." Ms. Mills chuckled and shook her head, then paused. "I find it easier to talk to you, though, for… some odd reason."

"I know. I mean, I don't know, but I do."

"What the hell are you talking about, Miss Swan?"

Emma smirked and shook her head, completely losing her train of thought. "I know how you feel that it's just so easy to talk, because that's how I feel with you. Maybe it's because I'm afraid of losing my friends and I just don't want to talk about the deep, personal stuff. It's… it's not that I don't care what you think of me- because I do. I really do… And… Oh, gods, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"I know what you mean, Emma. You want to confide in someone, but you're just unsure of who. I'm here and I'm willing to listen and… I really am, dear. I don't want you to think that I'm not. I do quite enjoy the company and, by your writing…"

"Yeah," Emma mumbled and bit her lip, cutting her off. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I just can't talk to my parents about it… I don't really think they'd wanna hear about it anyways. I mean, I guess, I don't really know if you want to hear about it."

"I don't mind, Emma." Ms. Mills smiled softly. "You're a bright girl and I don't want you to burden yourself with these bottled-up emotions. It's not good and it can hinder you."

"And you," Emma suddenly said, breaking the eye contact that they had seemed to have connected themselves moments ago. "If… If you want to talk to me, you can. I know how it feels keeping things on the inside and I can only imagine what you have hidden underneath the Evil Queen."

"The Evil Queen?" Her brows rose now at the new term.

"My friend, Belle, she said people call you that. She took your class last year, I think. Belle French?" Emma tilted her head and smiled. "She means no harm. She liked, well, likes, you."

"Ms. French. I remember her. She was quiet. I quite enjoyed her work." Ms. Mills nodded slightly and shuffled through a stack of assignments on her desk. "And I have heard that term quite a few times, honestly."

"Yeah. She's damned good, but she says I'm better. I don't think so." Emma wrinkled her nose slightly, remembering the compliment that her friend had told her earlier on in the year. "I take art with her, too. She's so much better at it than I am."

"That's unbelievable." Ms. Mills quirked a brow, her chestnut eyes sliding over to the piece of art that Emma had given her. "You are quite the artist as I can see."

"Only when I do tiny projects." Emma shrugged nonchalantly. "Say, we're going to be starting to draw portraits in a week or two and I still need a picture. Uh..." She paused, snapping her mouth shut. What the hell was she doing?

"You are? Who are you going to use, or is it a self-portrait?"

"I wanted…" Emma blushed slightly and sat back in her seat. "I wanted to draw you."

Ms. Mills' eyes widened slightly, and Emma thought she just looked stunning with those lips slightly parted in response.

"Really?"

"I mean, if you'd let me. I still have to snap a picture." Emma shrugged slightly and continued to blush. "I mean… If it makes you feel uncomfortable…"

"I-It's fine. You just… took me by surprise, is all." Then the corners of her mouth turned upward, the smile on her lips stealing the air right from Emma's lungs. "I don't believe I have ever had a student that wanted to use me as an art project before. I must admit, it is quite flattering."

"So, you don't mind if I take your picture and draw that-... Your face?" Emma cleared her throat.

"Go right ahead, dear." Ms. Mills chuckled and watched as Emma pulled out her cell phone, then took a few steps away.

"Alright. Smile!"

And she did. And, oh gods, that smile just killed Emma. She nearly dropped her phone right there as she felt her entire body go weak. Swallowing thickly, she nodded and squeaked out a strained, "that's good," because that's all she could manage without looking like a damned fool. That woman was nearly smirking. Her eyes were sparkling with an almost devious shine and that smile was all too genuine.

Emma snapped the scene in front of her, a flash from her phone and a blinking teacher later, the blonde stared at the memory forever captured into the cellular device.

"Got it," she whispered.

"I didn't blink, did I?"

"No, you're perfect." Emma smiled, but it immediately dropped as soon as she realized what she had said. "I mean, it's perfect. See?" Then she held the phone up for Ms. Mills to look at the picture.

"I look like a zombie," she muttered.

Emma smiled in amusement because, no, she didn't look like a zombie, and yes, she was perfect. Soon Emma had slipped the phone back into her pocket and muttered her gratitude.

"What time is it?" She furrowed her brows at the clock above the door, double-checking to make sure she was seeing it correctly.

"It's about two-" Then her eyes widened. "It's sixth period."

"Government. I'm missing it," Emma muttered absently.

"I'll write you out a pass," Ms. Mills immediately responded, grabbing the little pad that sat on the corner of her desk. "You said Government, correct?"

"It's pointless to go." She shrugged. "I mean, I missed half the class, and we usually just go over notes in that amount of time and do nothing after. By the time I get there, that's where they'll be."

Maybe if she could just convince her…

"You do have to go to class, Emma. The office will call your parents if you skip."

"I'm not skipping. And they're pretty understanding. All I have to say is that I was talking to you." She played with a piece of her hair, keeping her gaze astray. "Why can't I just stay? It doesn't look like you have a class."

"It's my planning period." Ms. Mills' voice was soft as she pushed the pad away from her.

Emma quirked a brow. "Look, I've been here for half the class, just let me stay. I'll be good and go to class on Monday."

"Only this once, Emma." Ms. Mills' lips twitched despite the struggle of keeping that smile from coming.

"Thank you!"

"Not so fast," she chuckled.

"Sorry. Mr. Glass is just…" Emma shook her head and sighed, slumping back into her seat. She didn't know how to describe that man. He looked as if he didn't want to be there half the time, and that was probably why he usually only talked about notes on the board before going to his desk in the back corner.

"You have Mr. Glass?" Ms. Mills' eyes grew so big, Emma swore they were going to pop out of her skull.

"Yeah?"

"I can tell him that you're here. He'll mark you present." She rolled her chair over to the computer on the far corner of her desk, then picked up the phone that sat next to it. She dialed a few keys and waited, receiver up to her ear.

Emma wondered what the hell that was about.

"Hello, Sydney? ...Yes, this is Regina. I have a student of yours here with me… Yes. Emma Swan." The brunette had a devious smirk on her lips and Emma couldn't help but to whimper softly at this new side.

She broke from her thoughts as the brunette teacher spoke into the phone, her voice sharp, unlike it had been when speaking with Emma.

"I would appreciate if you were to mark her present for your class… Yes, she won't be coming in today. Wh… If you feel so inclined to…. Yes, I will. Thank you. Goodbye." Then the receiver was back into its cradle as Ms. Mills rolled her chair over to Emma once again.

"I shouldn't tell you this, but I will anyways. He said he would mark you present, even if you aren't in the class. Of course, the exception being you have a sick day."

"Seriously?" Emma gawked at the new information. What the hell kind of control did she have over that man? They must be dating if she could so easily convince the man to do that.

"Yes. Seriously." Ms. Mills smirked.

"Is that an invitation to stay during sixth period, now?"

"No."

"Aw…" Emma whined softly, but the smile on her face gave her away.

"You still have to go despite the attendance record. You must pass that class in order to graduate, as I'm sure you know. Do not take advantage of this," she warned, arms crossing tightly over the black sweater she wore.

The blonde nodded, her fingers drumming mindlessly on her thighs. "I won't. I promise I won't."

"Good." Ms. Mills nodded and shuffled through the papers on her desk.

And then the burning question spilled from Emma's mouth like verbal diarrhea, "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Pardon?"

"Like, are you two dating? I mean… You seemed-"

And then she started to laugh.

Emma swore if she could record Ms. Mills' laugh and play it back on repeat, she would never tire of it.

"No, dear. He seems to be infatuated with me. Don't tell anyone. Although, I'm quite sure that most know by now," she muttered. "I don't want the students to tease him about this. It's probably hard enough since I… laughed in his face…" She frowned, a look ghosting over her features, but it only lasted a moment before her face turned to stone.

"I won't. Trust me," Emma said, her tone light and airy.

"Thank you." Ms. Mills exhaled a breath that Emma was sure she didn't know she had been holding. "Keep this confidential. He's doing you a favor."

"And so are you. You're keeping me from his boring class. I don't want to sound like a bitch – pardon – or anything, but it's like he doesn't want to be there."

"He probably doesn't." And that's all she said before nudging away from the topic. "You should probably get ready. The bell's about to ring and I know how far the art hall is from here." Ms. Mills flashed her that winning smile once again before standing up, her dark beige slacks tightening against her thighs as she did so. "I can give you a hall pass so you're able to get there faster."

"Thanks." Emma stood as well with her backpack, grunting at the weight of it. She quickly took the small pass that the teacher had given her and flashed a smile. "Thanks."

"You already said that, dear." The brunette chuckled melodically and followed Emma toward the door. "Go on before the bell rings. It's sixth, there's going to be a large crowd around here soon," she urged, a gentle hand touching Emma's shoulder.

She was sure that Ms. Mills had felt the shiver coursing through her body from that one touch.

"Have a good day, Emma. I'll see you on Monday."

"Thanks. See you." Emma nodded and that smile, just like yesterday, could not be helped as she walked out the door and into the desolate hall. But she stopped, turned, and looked over to Ms. Mills who was now standing outside the door, holding it open against the wall. She shot her a confused look, but Emma merely smiled wider and waved.

"Have a good weekend, Ms. Mills." Then she shot off as the bell rang. She wasn't going to beat the traffic in the hallway, but she didn't mind so much. The surprised, and yet genuine, smile on the English teacher's face just made her day.

"Where the hell were you?" Belle immediately confronted Emma as the blonde took her spot in the art room.

"Sorry," Emma mumbled, attempting to keep her features stone. "I didn't hear the bell ring and I ended up staying in Ms. Mills' room halfway through the period."

"Did she call Mr. Glass?"

"Yeah."

Belle smirked. "I knew it! I heard him say your name, but it was so quiet, because everyone else was talking. He said he'd mark you present?"

"Ms. Mills convinced him to, I guess." Emma smirked, knowing just why that was.

"Because he has this crush on her," Belle voiced her friend's thoughts.

"Wh-... How did you know?"

"Everyone knows, but they don't say anything. I mean, I don't think everyone. But the people who have seen those two talk to each other, it's clear. He'd do anything she says."

"Yeah, I've noticed." The blonde rolled her eyes.

Belle chuckled and took out her sketch book as the bell sounded, indicating the start of class. She nudged Emma knowingly. "You're jealous."

"No, I'm not," the blonde mumbled, doing the same with her own sketch book. She opened it to where they had left off yesterday.

"Oh, Em," the voice beside her suddenly spoke. "Did you get a picture?"

"Yeah."

"She let you do it?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me about it!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Belle. Shut up."

"No. Tell me."

"Why?"

"I wanna know her reaction."

"Belle."

"Come on…"

"Shut up."

"Please."

"No."

"If you tell me, I'll shut up."

"... fine." Emma groaned and glared at her friend and her persistence. Why the hell was Belle so nosy? She wished Ruby were here sometimes, just so the little brunette would shut her mouth. With a shake of her head, she whispered, "she was surprised, but she didn't mind."

"Surprised?" Belle tilted her head, pausing her work. "How so?"

"I don't know." The blonde shrugged and pulled her phone out, hiding it underneath the table. She nudged Belle with her leg and smirked, the picture of Ms. Mills on her phone screen.

"I've never seen her smile like that."

"It's probably her photo smile." Emma felt a tug on her lips. "She knew I was drawing her."

"I would need you to put your phone away, Emma." The art teacher had spoken as she passed by the two friends' table.

"Sorry, Ms. Boyd…" Emma mumbled and quickly shoved the device back into her pocket. It wasn't until the blonde teacher had glided away that she backhanded her laughing friend's arm.

"Shut up."

"I bet you're going to have that as your background by the end of the semester."

"No, I won't."

"Okay…" Belle drew the word out, a knowing smirk on her lips.

"I hate you," Emma muttered, going back to their assignment.

Belle chuckled and mewled quietly before doing the same, "No, you don't."

"She has her picture!" Belle squealed, running over to the counter where Ruby was currently waiting on an older gentleman. The waitress looked up, dark eyes widening in surprise at her friend's sudden outburst, then she smirked, knowing who and what she was speaking of.

Emma had trudged in behind Belle, grumbling about how many ways she could kill and dispose of both her friends.

"Look at sourpuss over there." Ruby puffed out her lower lip to mock the blonde as she slid onto one of the stools. "Come on, Em, lighten up!"

She slid a mug of cinnamon hot cocoa in front of her and an iced tea in front of Belle.

"Shut up, guys," she grumbled and turned to Belle. "I told you not to tell her."

"I will as you tell me about this picture on your phone." Ruby smirked as Emma's other brunette friend just shrugged.

"It's for an art project."

"Sure it is."

"It actually is," Belle giggled. "The only reason why I know who it was going to be is because she sits right next to me."

Emma shot her a glare, then looked up to Ruby who quirked a brow. "I'm drawing her. She agreed to let me use her face. End of story."

"Uh huh…" Ruby licked her lips and bent over onto her elbows. "Did she like the grilled cheese?"

"It was cold," Emma muttered.

"Oh, shut up!" She swatted the blonde with a dish towel, only to roll her eyes when someone called for her. "I'll be back. Tell me the juicy gossip when I get back."

"You two are driving me crazy ever since I told you." Emma shook her head. "Why are you always teasing me about it?"

"We aren't." Belle frowned. "I thought you were taking it better than this."

Emma shook the hand off her shoulder and played with the steaming mug of cocoa in front of her. "Well, I'm not! I shouldn't have told you. This is why I don't share my goddamned feelings."

"Whoa! What the hell did you do?" Ruby rose both her hands in the air defensively as she headed back over to her friends. "What's up, blondie?"

"You guys! You're just constantly harassing me."

"Look, girl, we don't mean any harm." Ruby donned the same frown as Belle. She took the stool next to Emma and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. "You've never had a crush, or at least told us about it, before. We do this, you know? Tease each other when we have crushes."

"Yeah, but you just keep pushing me toward her like something's going to happen. It's not," Emma finally muttered, glaring coldly at the cocoa as if it were the offender. "She's my teacher."

"We just thought this was what you wanted. We're supporting your efforts, Emma. I mean, I've never seen you so into someone before," Ruby continued, her voice light and sympathetic. "We can back off if that's what you want?"

"It'd be nice." Emma buried her head into her arms.

"Are you still going to have lunch with her?" Belle asked softly.

"Yes," she answered quietly, honestly.

"You are?" Ruby raised her brows.

The blonde nodded. "Yeah. It's nice talking to her."

"Have you already given up?" Belle asked quietly.

Then Emma stared at her. "What else am I going to do?"

"Ruby! Get your ass back to work and stop gossiping!" Granny shouted from across the diner upon spotting her granddaughter.

"Give me a sec!" Ruby whined and turned back to Emma as she slipped from the seat. A hand found its way on her back. "Don't give up," she whispered before heading off to resume her work.

"I'd drink to that." Emma playfully lifted her mug, bumping it with Belle's glass before downing the lukewarm cocoa. Her phone buzzed just as she set the mug down, causing her to groan and pull it out.

"It's Mary Margaret. I have to go."

"Oh, alright." Belle nodded and wrapped an arm around her friend. "Talk to you later?"

"Yeah." Emma nodded and paid for her drink before heading out of the diner, thumb moving over her phone as she replied to her mother.