Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 36

The professor's eyes doubled in size. "What?"

"You heard me," the headmistress assured him, a newly acquired lowness to her voice, "I've got my bag packed, ready to go. Liz is already there. I dropped her off after I left my friend's, who apparently is your friend too because they know you very well—more than I even know you."

His eyebrows knit together in suspicion. "Who?"

Chrissie scoffed. "It doesn't matter who, Brian. I just wanted to see you before I left; know for sure that I was making the right decision."

"You can't do this to me, Chrissie!" Brian darted across the room, grabbing Chrissie by the arms for the second time that night and shoving her back into the window. "It's not fair!"

"What's not fair, Brian, is that you left me for him..." she pushed her husband away from her and straightened her posture, "...after I told you I was pregnant. I told you I was going to have your child, and what did you do?" She threw her hand to the side, her finger pointing at the door. "You fucking ran away with the town's sleaziest transvestite!" The professor's cheeks burned a bright red. "You ran away with him, and you left me all alone that night, thinking that I had no one I could turn to because...because for all I knew, I didn't." Chrissie dropped her hand to her side and explained, "Timothée found out about us, Brian, and about the baby, and I was lucky he let me go home with him that night."

"...you think you're a winner, Chrissie; that you've played your cards right and finally got what you've always wanted, but in reality, you're just as much of a loser as the two of them. And you want to know why?" The headmistress bit her lip, Roger shortening the distance between the two of them and whispering darkly, "Because their lives aren't the only ones you've fucked over by getting knocked up. Yours is too."

With those final three words, the blonde turned on his heel and marched down the hallway, Chrissie's hands clenching into fists by her sides as her mind spun rapidly. This wasn't what she wanted or planned to happen, and she didn't know what to do next. All she knew was that the blonde had ruined everything—everything—and so, despite the chaos bubbling up and churning inside of her, she managed to collect her fleeting thoughts enough to cry out, "You're fired, Roger! You're fucking done here, you hear me? I don't ever want to see your face around here again!"

Her rash, resentful decision was met with what appeared to be indifference, with Roger angrily throwing open the set of doors and breaking outside. The headmistress stood in the middle of the hallway for a bit, tears spilling from her eyes uncontrollably and lips quivering with despair. She swiped pathetically at her wet cheeks and forced herself down the hallway, falling into the pair of doors that Roger pushed through and pressing her hands against the cold windows.

Meanwhile, escaping down the hall in the opposite direction was Ray—a devious smirk slathered across his face as he stumbled his way back into the gymnasium after sneaking off with another teacher who'd slipped away long before Ray did. Despite a few wrong turns and dead ends, he found Timothée and Tim sitting on the bleachers together, a small collection of shot glasses on each of their sides—some empty, some waiting to be chosen next—and one in each of their hands. The unlikely pair, both abandoned by their respective partners, clinked their glasses together and brought them up to their lips, tipping their heads back and downing the shots in one fell swoop. The smiles crawled onto their faces quickly subsided as Ray approached them, the headmistress's husband instantly recognizing him from past faculty Christmas parties.

"Hi, Ray," Timothée greeted dully, trying to sober himself as much as he could for the conversation; knowing that the conniving teacher liked to mess with the party guests and use their drunken slip-ups as blackmail whenever he needed a favor.

"Timothée," he replied with a growing smirk, his eyes flickering over to the other man, "Tim."

"What do you want, Ray?" the headmistress's husband muttered.

"Oh, I just wanted to ask you how you're holding up," the women's studies professor answered, squeezing his way in between the two men and making himself comfortable.

Timothée's eyebrows furrowed together. "Why?"

"Didn't you hear? Your wife got knocked up by that tall astrophysics professor." He held out his hand and Tim instinctively offered him one of his shot glasses. The teacher happily accepted it and took a quick sip, smacking his lips together in disappointment of the lack of kick the beverage possessed.

The headmistress's husband chuckled awkwardly, thinking this was just another one of the troublemaker's antics. "Funny, Ray."

"No, I'm serious. I heard her tell that music instructor that apparently you two haven't had sex in months, and that she only told you she wanted a divorce to cover up the fact that the baby was his."

"Damn," Tim interjected, ignoring the narrowed side-glance from his original drinking buddy and picking up another shot glass—this one for himself. "You see, that's why I don't fuck with girls. They're too problematic. Marriage. Kids. You don't have to deal with that shit when you're with a guy."

"Who are you to say something about marriage and kids when you and your boyfriend are more business partners than actual partners?" Timothée sneered.

The brunette sat forward, throwing an accusatory finger in his direction and replying tersely, "You don't know anything about us."

"I know that he took the stupid job my wife offered him to get away from you!"

"Hey now," Ray cut in, dropping a hand on each of their shoulders, "No need to get catty, boys. We're all on the same side, here, remember?" The two men rolled their eyes and turned their heads in opposite directions. "Why don't I get us some more drinks, yeah?" the women's studies professor suggested, wasting no time in jumping down from the bleachers and heading for the open bar that was still going strong.

An awkward silence fell over the pair as Ray disappeared, replaced by Chrissie shortly after—the headmistress taking the brunt of Timothée's rightfully directed anger when she begged to leave. His unwillingness to submit to her pleas forced her to stay; to think about what she was going to do and how she was going to get out of this.

She sniffled and blinked away the tears blurring her vision. "But he wasn't the one I wanted to go home with, Brian." She poked the professor in the chest, this time less harshly. "You were."

"Chrissie, I'm sorry," he tried to apologize, wanting to appeal to her in a desperate attempt to change her mind, but his efforts proved futile when she shook her head in disagreement.

"No, you're not. You ran off with Roger because you didn't care about me, or our child, and you still don't. You only ever cared about him, Brian, and I'm an idiot for thinking that that would've changed when he left for...for..."

"America," Brian mumbled, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head down in defeat.

"America," the headmistress repeated softly, heaving a shaky sigh and finishing her thought with the shrug of her shoulders, "You left me, Brian, and you never really came back that night. So, I don't know what else to do. I just can't keep playing pretend with you. It's exhausting."

The professor pressed his lips together, finding it hard to argue with her. "So this is it, then?" he croaked, "You're just going to leave, and I'm never going to see my daughter again?"

"Not until you get your priorities straight," Chrissie muttered, slipping away from him and out into the foyer where her bag had been sitting the entire time. She threw on her coat and gathered her belongings, taking one last look at Brian—the pained expression on her face disguised by the shadows as she yanked open the front door and pulled herself through.

It was only when the door slam shut behind her that Brian broke down—the weight of the situation crushing him; bringing him to the ground, hunched over with trembling hands masking the hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

I just wanted to do the right thing.