Peter
Lunch was Peter's truest form of freedom. Many might puzzle at such a statement, wondering how a 45 minute period could lend itself the ecstasy of liberation. Those questioners simply didn't understand the beauty of lunch at a high school. Peter would spend all day teaching to an entire class things that had to be approved by an entire department of people It was a hideous censorship with emphasis on money and time. Entire sections of knowledge could be cut out on the whim of the so-called 'experienced'. At meetings, time became currency and Peter would auction away every last cent he had for the wonders of labs. Hands on science. His students' faces lit up in a combustion equation of hydrogen, oxygen and excitement whenever they heard they could actually do something with their knowledge. Would the music department simply give the students their music sheets to study, write out formulas of C D E, but never let them pick up an instrument or vibrate their vocal cords? You don't get the true sound of it that way, you can't feel the rhythm. Peter didn't want his students to grow deaf to the harmony of science. Lunch became so important to him because of this. He did't have to buy time when the time belonged to himself.
The students with the best ears came during this time. The ones that truly cared for the subject like he did. In class, he taught the introductory course to chemistry, the advanced placement version as well and then taught a single period of biology. At lunch, however, he could be whatever he wanted to be. On this specific winter afternoon, he was an ecologist, showing off the salmon eggs he'd gotten for the bio kids. He was in the midst of explaining the wonderful effect of these tiny scarlet orbs would have on their environment as adults when the time ran out.
Chattering happily with one of his most enthusiastic students, a brunette boy with hair much lighter than Peter's, he had started to walk out the door with him. Peter was hoping to see if he still had time to catch even just a quick word with Jeremiah. It was towards the final words of this conversation that he was knocked back by another teacher rushing down the halls. The student who was luckily both tall and fast, part of the basketball team, managed to keep Peter from falling back. A little frazzled, the science professor straightened himself up and swept hair from his eyes to view the cause of the collision.
The two teachers met eyes and easily recognized each other, Peter feeling his heart sink instantly. Harsh, unnecessary words slipped past Eric's lips. The darker haired man dropped his gaze for a moment wiggled his toes beneath the circulatory organ, where it had fallen upon his feet. His dismay was obvious on his face for almost a second. The basketball athlete could taste the tension with its gelatin-like texture and so quickly offered up his goodbye. ("See ya, Mr. K!" "See you tomorrow.") Biting into his soft lower lip, Peter watched the boy leave before he turned his light blue gaze to Professor Walker and forced a kind, practiced smile.
"That kid's name is Erin -with an E. I have two of them in my class. Erin with an E and Aaron with an A. It's crazy. But they're both great kids." There were those watching eyes again, staring with a humorless intensity. Just like back in the classroom, Nicole waiting for a real answer. A proper one. Except there was so much more hatred in this man's eyes and Peter's discomfort was much more intense.
Why can he just leave me alone? That thought would go safely unvoiced. Peter didn't have anything against Eric, except for his unrelenting anger. When they had first been introduced, Peter had been very happy to meet the taller man. He was obviously someone important to Jeremiah, someone who had been there for him for so long and so often. Peter wasn't even jealous of the obvious rumors he'd heard floating in his classroom, since such a bond was so rare and important. But then came Eric's sharp tongue and Peter still had the cuts from his first lashing. He still tried his hardest to stay civil, to be friendly towards Jem's important friend. No matter how goddamn hard he was making it for him.
The younger man held onto his own wrist loosely, tracing the ghostly raised line that spanned its width as a nervous habit. He glanced to the sign in question and laughed. There was no humor in such a sound, just an anxious bubble of air escaping from the intensity of the situation. "Embarrassing? I don't find it embarrassing. I think it's a great way to get the kids excited for the labs." Peter sucked his cheek in slightly, chewing on it. "Don't you like to get your students excited?"
It wasn't meant to be accusatory. It was truly an inquiry, a young inexperienced teacher always looking to learn from his fellow professor. Perhaps, however, now was not the time to b hunting out lessons...
