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Nico kept his head down, like always, dark eyes trained to the floor the second that he got off of the bus. This was how it had always been, ever since he had started high school. Now, three years later he was seventeen, painfully awkward and avoided by all.
Nico continued walking straight, his eyes stinging, the Italian had not slept the night before. Nico did not want to face the day, five periods of classes he did not want to attend, the one class that he looked forward to attending was the final period of the day. Just thinking about it made Nico's face flush slightly.
At first Nico had hated his guidance counselor, he didn't want to be taking a Vocational class, especially Mechanical Shop class. This had all changed dramatically when he had walked into the room, the first student there. Nico's eyes scanned the classroom in silent awe, scraps of metal lined the walls, all different shapes and colors, the air smelled like burning iron and engine grease. The heat that blanketed the room was a comfortable contrast to Nico's usual chilled body temperature.
He moved to the back of the room, not noticing that another person was already there. The only thing that made the presence of another being known was a shout that came from what looked like a back room.
“Mierda!” A voice called out in Spanish, the tone was rich and light, Nico looked in the direction it had come from. The sound of a blow torch had stopped, Nico had not realized there had been a noise in the first place, almost like it was something that should have been in the room anyway.
A form came from a door that Nico had not noticed either, completely made of sheet metal it blended into the room. A boy came from the entrance, hair a mess of dark curls, his skin tanned and body lean. Nico watched as the other person moved to one of the strategically placed sinks and stuck his hand under the running water. He stared silently, his bag placed on the far right hand desk, all the way in the back of the room. He took in the other persons clothes, brown slacks, white, long sleeved button down with brown suspenders, his shirt had small scorch marks popping out in random places, like he had worked to close to an open welding tool and his pants were smudged with oil, like the bottom of his sleeves, which were rolled up to his elbows. Goggles were placed on top the other boys messy hair and elvish ears popped out from beneath the mess of brown locks.
Nico had not yet been noticed when other students started to filter into the room, one after another. The boy looked up now from where he was still rising his hand, a look of confusion on his face before he looked up at the clock hanging at the front of the room. The Latino boy quickly turned the water up and Nico briefly wondered what he had been doing in the room before the class had started. Nico's question was answered soon enough when the boy moved to the front of the room and sat atop of the teacher's messy desk. It dawned on Nico in that moment, the boy was the teacher, and Nico was screwed.
Now it was the final semester in school and Nico was no where closer to getting over his crush on Mr. Leo Valdez, in fact, it might have gotten worse. Nico had probably spent half of the year daydreaming and the other half writing them down or drawing them out in his coveted sketch book. All of these things were compiled in a red manilla folder, tucked securely in his backpack.
The day only seemed to grow longer, and Nico only grew more tired as he paid no real attention to his other classes, rather, idly sketching another picture of his Shop teacher. It was not as though Nico was the only person who had a crush on Mr. Valdez, he could name at least half of the girls in his class who had purposefully forgotten to put on gloves when working with the detailing torch just so that the teacher would rush over and pay them some attention. Nico did not blame them though. Really, whose idea was it to bring a twenty-one year old, fresh out of college teacher in to instruct seniors who were almost always sexually frustrated? Administration seemed to be lacking in their good ideas lately. Nico was not going to say that he really minded though.
Lunch marked the half way point of the day and Nico sat by himself, as always, back pressed into one of the lunch rooms uncomfortable blue chairs, pressed all the way in the corner, he contented to sketch, he had started it out simple, a rough sketch of Mr. Valdez, at his work station, goggles hanging loose around his neck, hands placed on the work bench a smirk playing on his lips. It had grown in the hours that Nico had been working on it. Flourished with detail and shaded with the idea of color. Nico had the time, his teachers never truly noticed that he was there and the students didn't pay him enough attention to wonder what he was sketching.
Two more bells passed and Nico felt a small torrent of butterflies kick up in his stomach. The boy made his way to his final class, head down and eyes never leaving the floor, finished sketch of his unrequited crush placed in his red folder. It took Nico a few minutes to get there, he had been purposefully dragging his feet.
The warning bell rang and Nico moved a little faster, reaching the class room just as the door was closing, he still kept his eyes down. Once he reached his table Nico slipped onto the bench and let his eyes drift up to the front of the room where Mr. Valdez was sitting a small grin on his face as he waited for everyone to get settled.
“Alright everyone! Today is the last day we're finishing up our writing projects, just turn them in to me during the last five minutes of class and then you're free to go.” He said cheerfully, hands on his hips as he stood at the front of the class, you could practically hear the longing sighs from the group of girls as he sent a wink out into the room. Nico flushed lightly, a bit of his heart wishing that the wink had been for him.
Nico both loved and hated that he had finished his project early, he loved it because that means he could spend the whole time in class idly doing nothing, only half having to pay attention to what was in his hands, he also hated it because he would not have to get help from Mr. Valdez, not that the boy would have asked for it anyway.
An hour and a half seemed to pass by quickly, Nico's head nodding every so often as though it were threatening to hit the desk. He was still tired, nothing of the day had woken him up fully and he knew that when he returned home, he would either pass out on the couch or spend another ten hours writing about what could never happen between him and his shop teacher. The bell rang.
Nico shot up from his chair, everyone else milling out of the room in an easy flurry, girls batting their lashes at Mr. Valdez, flirtatiously giggling that they would see him tomorrow. Nico moved silently behind the group, last in line and head down. A warm hand halted his escape.
“Nico, you forgot to give me your report.” Mr. Valdez stated, his tone soothing and calm, something like worry almost breaching the tone.
Nico froze under the hand, face heating lightly before he shrugged it off and reached for the black bag slung over his shoulder. Pulling out what he felt to be the write folder Nico handed it to the Latino. “Sorry,” he said shyly before leaving the classroom and than moving down the hall faster then he thought was possible.
Nico decided that he would walk home, hopefully wake himself up enough so that he could get a good amount of sleep at night. Warmth lingered on Nico's shoulder, from where Mr. Valdez had stopped him, it still smelled faintly of motor oil and cinnamon, a strange combination but wherever the twenty-one year old teacher was the scent followed.
Nico's walk home took him around thirty minutes, enough time to clear his head and to let the frigid bite of winter wake him up enough so that he would not fall asleep the moment he got home. The second he entered the house Nico let out a sigh of relief, no one but him would be home. The raven haired boy moved up the steps towards his room, shoes and jacket coming off as he went. Slipping into his surprisingly bright room Nico closed the door and locked it. He liked his privacy even if it was to just simply type and listen to music.
Setting his bag down on the chair Nico unzipped the top and felt for the red folder that he kept all the secret wants and desires locked away. He pulled it out and than stopped. Nico's heart began to jackhammer in his chest, pounding so fast that it drowned out any exterior noise. There was a red folder in his hands, it looked exactly like the one it should have been, aside from one minor fact, this folder had writing on it. Auto Engineering Process: By Nico di Angelo.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Leo had watched as his students filtered from the class, one after another, and at the end of the line was Nico di Angelo. Leo refused to let his heart skip a small beat as he noticed the boy. However Leo had yet to receive the boy's project and it being his first year as a teacher Leo really didn't want to have to fail anyone. Especially Nico.
The moment that the other had stopped, handed over a tattered looking red manilla folder and apologized he had was gone. Leo looked down at the folder in his hand and his brow furrowed, he knew that it was Nico's, the boy had just handed it to him, but there was no name, no title on it. Leo shrugged, he had to start grading or he'd be up all night, and Leo did not want that.
Leo was up all night. He had got home to his tiny apartment at five with half of the papers looked through and graded, all stacked neatly on his school desk. He had another ten or so to finish before he was done. Enough time to watch a movie and sleep. That was before he reached Nico's folder.
Leo flipped open the folder and instantly knew that Nico had not meant to hand give it to him. In the front was a picture, wonderfully done of Leo felt his face flushing, it was him, eyes covered by his goggles and hands fiddling with a few things of metal in his hands, it was amazing. Leo flipped through more of the folder, knowing that he shouldn't.
Leo's face remained red through the whole slew of pictures drawn, some were just of him, milling around the classroom, others were of him and Nico, sometimes just side by side, some were them playing chess, or video games, near the end of the pile they grew more. . . promiscuous. Those ones had Leo's face bright red and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was twenty-one, his bodies reactions should not be held against him. When he got to the writing though, the cherry color on his face slowly faded, as he read through each carefully written passage, one after the other. They made his heart clench and his face contort sadly.
“. . . I watched from afar, his hand brushing against hers every so often as they walked, talked, laughed. I longed for it to be me, to be the one beside him, I would not let his hand simply dangle there, I would take it up in my own, a statement, a declaration. He would be known as mine and I would no longer have to hold my head down, his strength would be enough to hold both of ours. . .”
They contented on like this, some in journal form others like a story, a quest almost, those are what made Leo's eyes brim lightly with tears as he neared the end.
“No! You can't! I won't lose you!” Leo cried, his voice strained and his body sore, covered in bruises that the harpies had inflicted with their pronged whips. Leo lay on the ground, his body shivering, though it was not cold. Leo had waited too long, taken too much time, he hadn't the chance to tell the other boy.
A group of people circled around them, sad eyes, down cast at the scene, Nico's, side cut open and dark blood dripping slowly to mingle in the dirt. He beckoned Nico closer and the boy followed, his knees hitting the ground where Nico's body lay, upper body hunched over so that the boy would not have to strain himself.
The look in Nico's eyes said that he was happy, that he would no longer have to fight anymore, he could be free, with his sister and he would no longer have to worry about protecting the camp, monsters that wanted to kill him, he would finally be at peace. And Leo, he would be broken. . .”
Leo read through the rest of the works and somehow he knew that this was a snapshot of Nico's wishes, his thoughts and his desires, Leo suddenly felt wrong having looked through it all, but he knew that Nico would know already that he had seen everything. Leo closed the folder and slipped it into his shoulder bag, he would talk to Nico tomorrow, after he was done grading papers.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Nico had moved through the entire motions of the day as usual, head down being avoided. It was all the same, except his hands were clammy, and he wanted nothing more than the entire day to pass as slowly as it possibly could so that he would not have to face his shop teacher. No, instead the day passed faster than most, almost as if every bell was against him. When the bell that signaled his shop class finally rang Nico did not feel the normal butterflies in his stomach, rather a sinking feeling of dread had replaced them.
Nico did not drag his feet as he headed to shop, nor was he the first one there. With head down, he entered the class and moved to the back right corner where he usually sat. Nico did not look up to see what Mr. Valdez was doing, he kept his eyes on his desk, his hands knotted together and his body hunched over, he wanted to look as small as possible.
“So, I finished grading all your projects last night,” there was a small hesitation to Mr. Valdez's words that forced Nico's eyes up. The teacher looked tired, his brown eyes not as mischievous as usual and his body slumped slightly. “I'll be passing them back with notes, today's just going to be an easy day, if you want to make corrections then go ahead, if not, please don't set anything on fire.” With that last bit of information Mr. Valdez was finished talking.
Nico looked back down, he did not want to think of the remarks that would no doubt be littering his work, maybe the Latino teacher had simply thrown them away, it made Nico's heart hurt to think about, but he would not blame the him.
Nico had not noticed that Mr. Valdez had reached his table until there was a red, tattered looking folder in front of him and the sound of footsteps retreating.
Nico's heart was thumping loud, deafening his ears to other sounds, he could see some of the pages sticking out, not how it was before, he knew that Mr. Valdez had read through it, all of it. The Italian did not dare to look up at his teacher, he did not want to face the embarrassment. Instead Nico simply opened it up. A note was attached to the first picture.
“See me after class.”
Simple, short, and to the point. Nico dreaded the final bell of the day.
It came much sooner than Nico wanted, the ring that he had been silently praying would not come. Nico knew that no matter how hard he wished it would happen none the less, and the bell had not disappointed. Every one else in the class seemed to leave rather quickly, like they could sense that something was going to happen the second that everyone had left the room. Nico did not move from his seat, his eyes were still trained downward, looking at the messy red folder in his hands. He could hear the door close and Nico clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to face the embarrassing fact of what had happened.
Nico heard the footsteps of the approaching Mr. Valdez, Nico looked up, he did not know why but he did. The expression on Mr. Valdez's face that he saw was more beautiful than anything Nico had seen the teacher make before. He was flushed, a hand scratching the back of his head in flustered embarrassment and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Nico fought his body to keep any sounds from escaping. This was a look he had never seen before, and something in the back of Nico's brain knew that he had caused it and Nico was proud of this fact.
Leo's hand shot out, it was holding a piece of paper.
“So, I know you're a senior and everything and you graduate in like a month and, well, um, here's my number and stuff, and yeah, um, I liked your pictures, so maybe once you're done with school and stuff you might want to get coffee or something.” Leo stumbled through his words, his hand shaking slightly as he held the number out for Nico to take.
Nico's dark eyes had gone wide, he had been expecting yelling, angry words, disgusted looks, pity, but he saw none of it. He flushed darkly and reached out a tentative hand for the piece of paper, half thinking that a camera would pop out and Mr. Valdez would laugh at him and say something like “gotcha!” None of those things happened as he pocketed the number with a shy smile on his face.
“I'd like that.” He said quietly, the smile on his teachers face made him smile back, not as big or as outgoing, but still a small smile that conveyed his happiness.
Nico stood, knowing that he was now free to leave the classroom, when he reached the door Mr. Valdez's voice called him back.
“Hey Nico, can I have your actual project this time?” He asked lightly, a tone of playful amusement lacing his words. Nico flushed before turning around, rummaging through his backpack, producing the right folder and handing it to his teacher.
They parted ways and Nico smiled lightly as he headed towards home. One month he told himself, one month and he knew that it would all be good.