In Hate With You [mlm]

the seventh milestone

"Late again, James?" I scowl at Hannah, adjusting the bags on my arms before slamming the car door shut and locking the car.

She grins at me, amusement dancing in her eyes. Her arrival wasn't much earlier than mine - she's still unpacking supplies from her car, for god's sake.

I ignore her as I enter the school's playground, making my way around the shapes and benches scattered across the tarmac. Lines of colour span the width of the playground, forming football pitches and chess boards and a hopscotch.

Once I reach the door, with Hannah lingering behind me, I sign in and send a smile to the kindly receptionist sat behind the desk.

"Are you ready for this year's new starters, Mr Anderson?" The receptionist asks, her eyes meeting mine through waves of greying hair.

"Of course," I say, with a small smile teasing my lips. "I love meeting the new children."

She nods in agreement, and allow my lips to curve up in acknowledgement, my hands still tangled in the straps of the bags I'm carrying.

Hannah shadows me until I reach my classroom and dump the stacks of marking and arts-and-crafts kits onto the tables. She eyes me as I begin to pull pots of paint and tissue paper out of one of the bags.

"You're doing art on their first day?" She asks, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a bit risky?"

"If there's any time to get everything messy and covered in paint, it's the first day," I chuckle, carting the paints over to the side by the sink where I line them up, ready to be used. The tissue paper goes in the paper basket by the desk, where anybody can use it if they want to. "Great way to help them get over their nervousness is to jump right in with something fun and easy."

"I guess," she agrees, hesitantly. "What about the ones who don't like paint and..." she grimaces at the pots of glue as I reveal one after the next. "...mess?"

"I have plenty of stuff for drawing if they want pencils and crayons instead," I reassure her, more relaxed than I have been in days. "Don't worry about it, everything's going to be fine."

Hannah glances at me, her muscles less tense. I beam right back.

"I know you've worked the first couple of weeks before, I'm just nervous," she admits. My eyes widen as I see the time on the clock behind her.

"And I'm grateful that you're worried about me but you might want to worry about the arrival your own students?" I squeak, watching as her face grows almost comically anxious.

I turn to take the last pot of glue out of my bag, and when I turn back around, she's gone. A laugh escapes my lips and I shake my head.

My last bag is filled with as many musical instruments as I could find around my house, and in shops for cheap prices; anything from triangles and mini-drum kits to ukuleles and recorders.

Excitement is rushing through my blood, zapping against my skin.

Another teacher pokes his head around the door, greeting me with a friendly smile. His dark hair is woven tightly into braids that fall past his shoulders, knotted together by a single hairband. I vaguely recognise him from the staff-room, but his name slips from my tongue.

"Are you alright to welcome the new students in the playground with me, Mr Anderson?" He asks, his brown eyes kind.

"Of course, yeah, just let me tidy up this mess," I agree, eager to make friends with some of the other teachers.

"Great, thank you!" His smile widens, and he leans casually into the frame of the door as I pile the musical instruments in the corner of the room.

A few moments later, we step onto the playground together, chatting about the work he has set up for the Year Six children getting ready for their SATs. He has an amazing plan for the entire year, filled with activities that help them understand what they need for the exam but still have fun, and admiration warms my face.

Thankfully, Hannah comes to join us and I am saved from my embarrassment at my own lack of preparation.

"Ady! Don't run off, please!" I glance up at the name, my eyes catching on the small blonde-haired girl tugging on her dad's hand.

Dante is trying to guide her into the playground, his hand gentle as it soothes across her back. Beside him, Ady twitches anxiously, her eyes darting over the other children gathered in the playground.

"Go on then," Hannah nudges me, following my gaze. "Go say hello."

Walking towards Ady and Dante, I sigh as I hear her and the other teacher chuckle at my nerves.

Ady hides behind her dad's leg as I approach them, tightening her grip on her dad's hand. After waving a 'hello' to Dante, I smile softly at her, and her face brightens as she recognises me.

"Hi! Are you ready for your first day?" I ask, crouching down slightly to chat to her directly. She bites her lip, glancing up at Dante.

"It's okay to be nervous; honestly, I'm a bit nervous to meet you all." I admit, and she meets my eyes, her mind reassured by my words. "I'm Mr Anderson."

"I know," she says, her voice quiet but her eyes curious. "You were there when Mummy and I visited."

"Yes." My smile widens. She fidgets with her fingers, fiddling with a strand of her blonde hair. "Today we're going to be doing painting and art." As soon as I say the word 'painting', her eyes light up.

"I love painting!" She grins, stepping forward from her dad's shadow.

"Great! I do too," I say, sharing in her happiness. I look up at Dante, to see him frowning at us. "I don't think your Dad likes painting?"

"Nope," she agrees, shaking her head. "He hates the mess, even though when he bakes, he makes even more mess and gets it all over the kitchen." She gestures with her hands, and I chuckle at Dante's offended expression.

"I don't hate it," he protests, but she is adamant.

"Yes, you do, Daddy. Don't lie, you said lying was bad." She raises her eyebrows, all traces of nervousness gone. And then she catches my eye again, and retreats back a bit.

"Well, it was lovely talking to you and your Dad." I hold out my hand for her to shake, before straightening up. "Would you like to come inside with me so your Dad can go to work?"

Ady glances at Dante, still hesitant to leave his side. He nods at her, nudging her forwards and sending me a soft smile. Something flips in my chest, and I swallow.

I hadn't allowed myself a proper glance before, but now I notice his long hair knotted in a messy bun, strands tangling by the sides of his face, framing his hazelnut eyes.

He looks amazing, even though I am sure he can't have woken up that long ago. I run my fingers through my hair, well aware of my slightly dishevelled appearance.

I shake myself out of my stupor when Ady slips her hand into mine, a tentative smile exploring her face.

"Thank you," Dante murmurs, moving his head closer to my ear. "I don't think she'd have left without you." I shiver and force myself to give a quick nod.

"I don't mind at all," I'd do anything I can to help you, I complete. Now I just sound creepy.

Ady waves goodbye to her dad, and I guide her inside to my classroom, where most of her classmates are already waiting.

The bell goes for the beginning of the day, and I move to the front of the class to welcome everybody. There are around 25 kids in total, a mix of boys and girls, some gathered on the bean-bags at the back of the classroom, some sat on the mats at the front.

Ady sits beside a couple of boys at the front, and relief warms my heart as one of them introduces himself.

"Is everybody ready?" I ask, gaining their attention. Their eyes follow me as I write my name on the board. "I'm Mr Anderson, and today, we're going to be painting and making a mess."

A few of the children laugh, and one of the boys cheers. I swallow the anxiety growing in my throat, and begin to play a name game with them.

I don't need to worry; everything's going to be fine.