Elise's POV
After leaving the classroom, Mr. Jones walked me through a few school protocols, including attendance sheets, staff meetings, and just the usual reminders. He smiled kindly before leaving me at my new office at the end of the corridor.
When I stepped inside, the space felt… untouched. Bare walls, dusty shelves, and several unopened boxes stacked neatly by the desk. It smelled faintly of paper and cleaning detergent, that classic "school office" scent. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
By the time an hour passed, I'd sorted files into drawers, placed my notebooks onto a shelf, and was finally down to my last box—the printer. I groaned quietly as I read the assembly instructions. Whoever designed these things seemed to enjoy making teachers suffer.
Just as I began sorting the printer parts, a commotion started outside the office—thudding footsteps, loud voices. It sounded like an argument, growing sharper every second.
I straightened up, brushed the dust from my hands, and hurried to the door.
When I stepped out, two boys were in the hallway, practically inches away from throwing real punches. One had a busted lip, the other's shirt collar was pulled halfway to his chin. My heart jumped in panic.
"Hey! Stop that right now!" I shouted.
They froze, startled by my voice. Both turned to look at me, guilt and frustration flashing across their faces. Without thinking twice, I grabbed each of them by the wrist.
"You—inside my office, now. And you," I said, tugging the other by the arm, "we're going to the clinic."
The injured one didn't argue. After getting him patched up by the nurse, I returned to my office, exhausted and slightly irritated.
But when I opened the door, I stopped cold.
The boy waiting inside wasn't just any student—he was that boy. The one who had been staring at me earlier.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. He was sitting casually on the chair, his posture relaxed, his eyes meeting mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I sighed deeply and took my seat behind the desk. "Alright," I said, trying to sound calm and composed. "Do you want to tell me what that was about? Why you two looked like you were about to strangle each other?"
He leaned back slightly, still holding that self-assured expression. "It's nothing new. Tyler and I… we don't really get along. Been that way for a while."
"And why is that?" I pressed, crossing my arms.
He shrugged. "His girlfriend broke up with him last semester. For some reason, he decided that was my fault. But—just to be clear—I was never interested in her."
I blinked, unsure how to respond, then sighed again. "Regardless of what happened between you two, as long as I'm here, I don't want to see you fighting. Understood? I can't stand it."
He nodded lightly, but there was that hint of amusement in his eyes again, as if he found my serious tone more endearing than intimidating.
I turned back to the printer box, hoping to end the conversation there. "You can go now," I said, crouching to gather the scattered parts.
But before I could start assembling, he moved from his seat, crossed the room, and knelt beside the box. "You're not really gonna do this yourself, are you?"
"I can handle it," I said quickly.
He ignored me, already inspecting the printer pieces with practiced ease. "Looks simple enough," he murmured, then began assembling it right there, his hands steady and efficient.
I considered stopping him, but honestly, I was too tired to argue. So I watched in silence, half-annoyed and half-impressed.
As he tightened the last screw, he looked up at me with that calm, easy smile. "I'm Mason Cole. Nineteen."
The directness of his tone caught me off guard. I realized that after all our interaction, I hadn't even known his name.
"Mason," I repeated softly, more to myself than to him.
He stood up, brushed his hands clean, and gathered the bits of packaging into a pile. Before leaving, he turned to me one last time.
"Here," he said, placing a small lollipop on my desk.
I blinked, surprised. "What's this for?"
He just smiled—a small, knowing smile—before walking out the door.
The office fell silent again, the only sound the hum of the newly assembled printer. I stared at the candy for a while, part of me annoyed, another part…uncomfortably curious.
Whatever that boy's deal was, something told me my summer at Silver Lake High was about to be far more complicated than I'd planned.