NaNo Day Five
Oh my god, I'm so tired.
Okay, I have to work tomorrow, so I'll try to make this quick, but you know me.
First off, thank you for your comments ♥ ♥ ♥. I am reading them, really, and loving them, but it's been a kind of crazy few days (obvs), so give me a day or two to catch up.
I'm falling into the two problems that I always have with my writing:
one; I am way too reliant on dialogue and have never really mastered how to break dialogue up with description and narration.
two; The characters and their arcs are taking over the main plot.
One of the bad guys still hasn't been properly introduced, although I keep getting around it by saying that the prologue, which is from Allison's point of view rather than Alan's, will introduce the person who turns into one of the main antagonists. She should still appear in the rest of the story more than the ONE time that she's come up, though, so I have to work on that. I haven't really developed the plot, aside from moving Alan along on his journey, and the more I think about what's the come, the clearer it becomes that the "plot" is really second to getting the characters where I want them to be with each other, mainly bringing Danny back. I'm loving writing for Dan and writing about Dan and Alan, but I miss Danny something fierce. Dan and Alan are fun, but Danny and Alan are like a well-oiled machine, and they just... gosh, they love each other so much. I can't wait to see Danny again.
Anyway, things are still moving. I meant to stop at 10k today, but I ended up writing almost 1000 additional words because I got so wrapped up that I had to finish the scene. I'm not sure what tomorrow is leading to, but I'll come up with something, I'm sure.
I'm kind of mad that writing was so hard today. It might have been lingering excitement about the election and I KNOW that part of it was agreeing to take my cousins to the mall in the early afternoon, but I didn't get really started writing until after eight pm which meant I was rushing, as I have to be at The Bookstore at eight am. I really wanted to write another, unrelated story today about Dan throwing an election party and the whole gang showing up. Dan loved last night. The boys did too, and Felicity, but Dan... it's the sort of thing he lives for. I wrote some dialogue in my head:
"LAURA! ALAN! WHAT THE HELL?" Dan shouted down the hall.
"You're going to wake the babies!" Felicity hissed, but Dan ignored her and waved his beer bottle at her in a vaguely shushing fashion.
"What the fuck is taking so long? You missed them calling Pennsylvania! You'd better not be fucking in my bedroom!"
"You say these things just to piss me off, don't you?" Danny asked.
"No," Dan said, "but it's a great side-effect."
Anyway, that's neither here nor there. I will try and write that tomorrow. Here is today. Alan meets Laura, has a good week or two, calls his sister, and bumps into someone on the roof.
***
Today: 3285
10952/50000
***
(If you remember, we left off here:
"Hank is as straight as they come," Dan assured him. "He just doesn't have any other friends and tends to get territorial. Also, I like how you assumed there was something going on that could possibly upset him if we were dating."
Alan felt his ears heat up. "Not to be presumptuous," he said weakly. "I just mean--"
"Nah, it's cool," Dan said dismissively. "If I were flirting with me, I would want to tap that, too.")
Managing to regain his equilibrium, Alan said, "Well, there's nothing wrong with a little self-love now and then."
"I'm resisting the urge to say 'That's what she said,' but, frankly, it's overwhelming and I don't know if I'm going to make it," Dan said. "Pop culture dictates that it's the correct response, and I'm highly susceptible to outside pressure."
"That's what she said," Alan said, giving Dan a smirk of his own. Dan burst out laughing.
"Well played, Alan Pratchett. Well played. I think you've officially passed a test I didn't even realize I was giving you," Dan managed to say, once his laughter had died down. They were crossing the grass to the entrance to the Butler Building and Alan was feeling pretty good about himself. He hadn't seriously flirted with anyone in... god, eight years?...and it wasn't something he had been good at to begin with. It felt refreshing, but certainly strange. A part of his brain was still insisting that this was akin to cheating, and his chest ached a little. He hoped that would pass with time. He needed to stop feeling like he was just waiting for Danny to get back from an extended business trip, and maybe flirting with someone new would be the cure he was looking for.
"Well, I'm glad I've gotten your approval," Alan said. He held open the door to the building and let Dan go ahead of him. Dan was in the same black sweater and slacks from Friday, or at least very similar ones. At least he looked good in black.
"The copy room is all the way down this hallway on the right," Dan said, pointing to the bend in the hallway. "It's the last door down that hall."
"Thanks," Alan said. "Maybe I'll remember that this time."
"Paper's in the cabinets in the closet," Dan added. "For some reason, it's locked, but the code is 1-2-3-4-5. I've gotta go argue with Sunita about getting my kids into the library this afternoon."
"Sounds like fun," Alan said, grinning. "I'll see you around."
"Count on it," Dan assured him.
Alan watched Dan disappear into the library. He continued to watch as the doors slammed shut, standing in the hallway until he heard the tell-tale click of heels pounding down the staircase.
"Oh, wonderful!" a French-accented voice said, dripping with frustration and sarcasm. "Someone who's as lost as I am."
Laura Carter's long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun. Instead of the jeans and rumpled button down shirt she had been wearing the past two times he had seen her, she was wearing a knee-length black dress and calf-high boots. She did not look pleased.
"Did you get directions from Hank Silverman?" Alan asked.
"Is he the weasel-y looking one?"
"Yeah, he tried to get me, too," Alan said. "Dan showed me how to get there. It's just down this way."
"Is it really down this way, or he is just fucking with us as well?" she asked.
"I'm pretty sure it is down this way," Alan said, "if only because I'm pretty sure we're flirting and he probably doesn't want me to seek revenge this early into it."
"Some men like that sort of thing," she said. "Ryan in particular seems to enjoy having his ass kicked."
"Still," Alan said, taking Laura's bitter deadpan as a cue not to start laughing, "I think we're pretty safe. Down the hallway to the right, through the door, the paper is locked in the cabinet."
"Locked?" Laura said. "What is this, some sort of hazing?"
"No, no," Alan said. "Dan gave me the code. It's okay."
Laura shook her head, but followed him down the hallway. The copy room was exactly where Dan said it would be, and it was also empty. The code to the storage closet worked, and it was fully stocked with paper and not the spring snacks that Alan had half expected. He let Laura make her copies first, settling down at the spare desk shoved into the corner.
"So what brings you to Beaumont?" he asked once Laura had closed the machine and stood back to wait.
"Work," she said absently.
"Well, I mean, what were you doing before?" She glanced at him sharply. "Middle school, high school, college?" he supplied. "Private? Public?"
"Oh!" She relaxed a little, and muttered something to herself in French. "Oh, of course. I taught English in France," she said. She paused. "That's how I met Ryan. He was teaching English too. In college. About ten years ago."
Something about her manner seemed wooden and odd, but she relaxed after a moment, and Alan dismissed it. "That sounds wonderful," he said. "I've never been to France, actually. My ex and I kept saying we were going to go--my dad's ladyfriend has a house somewhere in the south of France and she was always encouraging my siblings and me to make use of it."
"Do you know where?" she asked.
"Not off the top of my head," he admitted, frowning. "I could ask my dad."
"Oh, it's not that important," Laura insisted. "If you think of it, but don't make a special call on my account. What about you? Where are you from?"
"Here," Alan said. "Well, New York, actually, but about forty-five minutes from here. About twelve years of public school, middle and high school, and a year at a private high school."
"And you teach one of the sciences, yes?" she asked, turning back to take her copies out of the tray. Alan took her place, running off his worksheets for the rest of the week.
"Chemistry," he said.
"I was never one for science," she admitted. "What brought you to Beaumont? Were you unhappy where you were?"
"Yeah," Alan said, not looking up from the rumbling copy maker. "You could say that. It's funny, I was actually just beginning a job search when the Beaumont opening came up online. I guess I lucked out."
"That's how you found out about it?" Laura asked. "On the internet?"
"Yes," Alan said. "Thank god. I couldn't have taken another full semester where I was." He turned around, chewing on his lower lip. It was a rather odd line of questioning. He wondered if there was some sort of cultural divide that he didn't know about. "Anyway, I'm here now and so are you. Are you and your husband enjoying yourselves so far?"
The look that passed over Laura's face couldn't be called anything other than a grimace.
"Ryan is enjoying himself immensely. Of course, Ryan always enjoys himself when I am out of my element. But I'm adjusting. This is radically different than my last job."
Definitely the cultural divide.
"It gets easier, I promise," Alan assured her. "These kids are so brilliant... I know it's overwhelming at first, but I think the fact that they enjoy themselves so much is more than worth the added challenge."
"That's good to know," Laura said. She gathered all of her copies together. "It was lovely to speak to you, Alan. I look forward to seeing you around."
"You too!" Alan said. "I live up in 4D. I don't have a lot of furniture yet, but feel free to stop by whenever you want, both of you. I'm trying to actually cultivate a social life for the first time in a year and a half, and it helps to have friends."
"We would love to," Laura said. "I'll see you."
***
The first week passed more quickly than Alan expected, and before he knew it he was closing in on the end of week two. Things seemed to be going back to normal at Beaumont, at least as far as Alan could tell. The mood was less sombre, and he heard laughter and complaining in the teacher's lounge. Most of the teachers still kept to themselves, but Alan stuck so close to Doug that it didn't matter. Sunita Shah smiled at him in the hallways, and Laura sought him out on their shared lunch period, and aside from them and an occasional check-up from Allison, his exposure to the rest of the staff was minimal. Well, except for Dan. Well, except for Dan and Hank.
Things with Dan hadn't so much proceeded as they did continue on in the same manner as they had been. They bumped into each other in the hallways, flirted blatantly in front of the rest of the faculty, but went no further. Alan was trying to work up the nerve to ask him out, but the pressure to do so in the same witty, irreverent tone as their flirtation was a little much, not to mention the fact that he was still feeling sick when he thought about a new relationship too much. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he'd never be ready. Maybe he'd left the part of him that needed another person in Danny Stevens' luggage, or in their old house in Centennial.
Maybe he just needed to bite the bullet and get on with his life.
Hank, of course, posed another problem. While his time with Dan hadn't increased noticeably, Hank was everywhere he looked. He didn't say anything or do anything, he was just... there. Doug brushed it off, saying that Hank was just an oddball who didn't like things out of place. He assured Alan that Hank would get used to him eventually and find something better to do with his time, but in the mean time, it was unsettling.
He pointed it out when he called his sister that Thursday night, eyes on the patch of sky he could see from his living room window.
"I feel like I have a stalker is all," he said, shivering absently, even though he knew Hank was three buildings over and not lurking outside his second story window. "I turn around, and there he is."
"Maybe he's got a thing," Cynthia says. "As much as it both disgusts and pains me to admit it, you're an attractive guy, Alan."
"Dan said he's straight as a pin," Alan said absently and dismissively.
"Excuse me?" Cynthia said after a pregnant pause. "Who said?"
"He's just a guy who works here," Alan said. "It's not a big deal. Daniel is an exceedingly common name."
"Yeah," Cynthia said. "Right. Speaking of--"
"No."
Trust Cynthia to know both the best way to get his full attention and the quickest way to piss him off.
"Alan, I was out in California last week, and--"
"No!" Alan nearly shouted. "Cynthia, don't you even dare."
"If you would just talk to him, Alan--"
"He made his choice."
"He was a huge part of your life!"
"And he chose to throw that away. I'm done, Cynthia. I'm trying to put it behind me, but I can't do that if you and Dad and everyone else keep bringing it up."
"You can't ignore him forever, Alan!"
"Watch me." There was an edge to his voice that he didn't normally use with his sister, but she was pushing buttons that she knew better than to push. "Anyway," he said, straining to recapture the easy-going tone of the early conversation and knowing it was impossible, "It's a nice night. I think I'm going to take a telescope up to the top of the main classroom building. My neighbor, Doug, told me there's an undisrupted view up there."
"Sounds like fun." Cynthia's voice was flat and aggravated. "I'll leave you to it."
"Thanks," he said.
"This isn't done, Alan," she said, but before he could response, he heard the click at the other end of the line. He held onto the phone for another few seconds before lowering his arm and dropping it onto the end table.
Over the past two weekends, he had managed to move almost all of his things into the apartment. It looked like a completely different place when stuffed with his book cases, couch, and entertainment center. His books lined the walls, his photos were hanging up, and the spare bedroom was stuffed with the boxes from his old house that he still hadn't unpacked. It looked more like home, but in the silence after his phone call, it felt like some mockery of what home used to be.
He hadn't been lying when he said it was a nice night. It only took him a few moments to find his coat and scarf and collect one of his telescopes from the spare bedroom. His gloves were missing, but he needed to clear his head, and he figured that was what he had pockets for.
He paused in front of Doug's door and debated asking for company. Doug was good at knowing when to pry and knowing when any further digging would be a bad idea. Still, he didn't think companionship was what he was looking for tonight. It would probably be better spent on his own, staring up at the stars, reminding himself that this was all for the best.
It was a quick walk across campus, but the cold bit more than it had when he left school a few hours earlier. Thanksgiving was only a week away and the weather had started to reflect it. The leaves were quickly disappearing from the trees and he could smell winter in the air, just around the corner. Winter used to be his favorite season. Christmas was a wonderful affair in his family. Although no one could claim any real religious affiliation, family was important to them. He loved the preparation and the bustle and the joy. Had loved them, at least. The last Christmas he celebrated had fallen flat, for all of them. His apartment at Durst had remained bare, and the long, cold winter spent on his own had sucked all the joy out of the season. He was hoping to make this year better, but the memories still lingered.
His fingers fumbled with his keys, but it wasn't long before he was in the building and walking up the back staircase to the roof. When he pulled out his keys to open the last door, he found it was already unlatched. Cautiously, he proceeded onto the roof, his mind flashing to a million nightmare scenarios, despite the fact that Allison's voice was ringing in his head, reminding him that Elizabeth Gaynor and Donna Ashby disappeared off-campus.
"Seriously, Gus.... No, man, you're a fucking lunatic, now could you please... Jesus." It was Dan's voice, and good to hear. Everything else aside, he'd feel like shit if he was murdered and his last conversation with his sister had been an argument about Danny Stevens. He crept out of the shadows and stepped onto the roof, telescope still tucked under his arm. Dan was sitting on the ledge, cellphone tucked under his ear, cigarette dangling from his fingers. When the door slammed behind Alan, he turned, looked surprised, and then smiled.
"Yeah," he said into the phone. "No. Gus, I don't care... I don't care. You're crazy, I don't care, and also you're crazy.... Gus, look, I really don't want to talk to you anymore, especially because someone a lot more attractive and a lot less crazy just joined me on the roof, so I'm going to hang up now."
True to his word, he snapped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket.
"Hi," Alan said.
"Hey," Dan said. He took a long drag off of his cigarette and waved.
"I was just going to clear my head," Alan said. "Take a look at the stars."
"I was just fielding another call from my psychotic ex," Dan said. "We've been broken up for two months and I still have to hear about all the crazy shit he pulls. Good times."
"Sounds like it," Alan said. "I dated a guy like that in college. He practically stalked me after we broke up. I found out later that I popped his gay cherry. He wrote a song about me and everything. It was... kind of creepy. My sister used to call him my sneaking shadow."
"Used to?" Dan asked.
"Well, after a while he became The First Daniel," Alan admitted.
"The First Daniel?" Dan asked. He took another drag off his cigarette.
"You'll like this," Alan said. He rubbed his freezing fingers together before stuffing them back in his pockets. "My ex's name was also Daniel. Danny, actually. The first one went by Daniel, the second one went by Danny."
Dan squinted at him for a moment, and Alan felt his cheeks heat up under the scrutiny.
"You're making that up," he finally said.
"Hand to god," Alan said, holding up his hand for a moment before hurriedly shoving it back into the pocket of his peacoat.
"I don't even know what to do with that information," Dan said. He dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, then pulled the pack out. "There are so many things I can say that I can't even pick one. They're all too good." He offered the pack to Alan.
"I don't smoke," Alan said.
"I don't either," Dan replied. "Smoking on the roof doesn't count."
"Yeah?" Alan asked. He finally moved forward, joining Dan near the ledge and leaning his telescope against it. "Tell that to your lungs."
"Only when my students or my boyfriend get to be too much, and only on the roof," Dan said. "Those are the rules. It usually takes me about three or four months to smoke a pack. That's two or three packs a year, when you factor in summer vacation, and sometimes it's less than that. I think I'm doing pretty well." He shoved the pack back into his pocket and crossed his arms. "Anyway."
"Yeah," Alan said. "I was just..."
"Telescope, yeah," Dan said. "You said that. Rough day? You look a little green around the gills."
"I'm fine," Alan said. "A little chilly. Better, now that I'm outside." Better now that he was talking to someone. To an attractive man he was interested in, at that. He was moving on. Regardless of what Cynthia thought, of what his father thought, he was ready to move on and he was doing it.
Really.
Any second now.
"Listen," he finally said, swallowing past the lump in his throat, but Dan's phone rang again, interrupting him. Dan pulled it out of his pocket and cursed under his breath.
"Hold on one second," Dan said. He opened his phone. "Hey, what's up? Uh-huh? That's great. I'll be by to get him in like, ten minutes. Yeah. I'll leave now." Alan watched, rubbing his hands together again and trying to decipher what was happening. Once Dan hung up, Alan stared at him expectantly.
"I gotta go," Dan said. "It's getting late, and I've got The West Wing and The Simpsons waiting on my TiVo." When Alan's face fell, Dan smiled sheepishly. "Just kidding. I actually have to pick my dog up from the vet, but the television is important too. Were you saying something before my phone rang?"
Alan opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. "Nothing," he said. "It's not a big deal. I hope your dog's okay."
Dan began to root around in his pockets. "My dog's an idiot, but he'll be fine." Seemingly finding what he was looking for, Dan pulled something dark out of his pocket and then took two steps forward, right into Alan's personal space. His stomach jumped into his throat. "Anyway, I think you need these more than I do." Alan pulled his eyes away from Dan's face just as he was pressing something into Alan's hands. It took him a second to realize it was a pair of gloves.
"Thanks," he said, finding himself breaking out into a grin. Dan didn't step away.
"Just so you know," he said, taking advantage of the two inches he had on Alan, as well as their closeness, "I'll be by at some point tomorrow to collect both the gloves and compensation for the rental."
"Compensation?" Alan asked dumbly. Dan smirked and stepped back.
"Yeah. I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something. Have a good night."
For the second time in as many weeks, Alan found himself staring at a swinging door long after Dan had gone.
Okay, I have to work tomorrow, so I'll try to make this quick, but you know me.
First off, thank you for your comments ♥ ♥ ♥. I am reading them, really, and loving them, but it's been a kind of crazy few days (obvs), so give me a day or two to catch up.
I'm falling into the two problems that I always have with my writing:
one; I am way too reliant on dialogue and have never really mastered how to break dialogue up with description and narration.
two; The characters and their arcs are taking over the main plot.
One of the bad guys still hasn't been properly introduced, although I keep getting around it by saying that the prologue, which is from Allison's point of view rather than Alan's, will introduce the person who turns into one of the main antagonists. She should still appear in the rest of the story more than the ONE time that she's come up, though, so I have to work on that. I haven't really developed the plot, aside from moving Alan along on his journey, and the more I think about what's the come, the clearer it becomes that the "plot" is really second to getting the characters where I want them to be with each other, mainly bringing Danny back. I'm loving writing for Dan and writing about Dan and Alan, but I miss Danny something fierce. Dan and Alan are fun, but Danny and Alan are like a well-oiled machine, and they just... gosh, they love each other so much. I can't wait to see Danny again.
Anyway, things are still moving. I meant to stop at 10k today, but I ended up writing almost 1000 additional words because I got so wrapped up that I had to finish the scene. I'm not sure what tomorrow is leading to, but I'll come up with something, I'm sure.
I'm kind of mad that writing was so hard today. It might have been lingering excitement about the election and I KNOW that part of it was agreeing to take my cousins to the mall in the early afternoon, but I didn't get really started writing until after eight pm which meant I was rushing, as I have to be at The Bookstore at eight am. I really wanted to write another, unrelated story today about Dan throwing an election party and the whole gang showing up. Dan loved last night. The boys did too, and Felicity, but Dan... it's the sort of thing he lives for. I wrote some dialogue in my head:
"LAURA! ALAN! WHAT THE HELL?" Dan shouted down the hall.
"You're going to wake the babies!" Felicity hissed, but Dan ignored her and waved his beer bottle at her in a vaguely shushing fashion.
"What the fuck is taking so long? You missed them calling Pennsylvania! You'd better not be fucking in my bedroom!"
"You say these things just to piss me off, don't you?" Danny asked.
"No," Dan said, "but it's a great side-effect."
Anyway, that's neither here nor there. I will try and write that tomorrow. Here is today. Alan meets Laura, has a good week or two, calls his sister, and bumps into someone on the roof.
***
Today: 3285
10952/50000
***
(If you remember, we left off here:
"Hank is as straight as they come," Dan assured him. "He just doesn't have any other friends and tends to get territorial. Also, I like how you assumed there was something going on that could possibly upset him if we were dating."
Alan felt his ears heat up. "Not to be presumptuous," he said weakly. "I just mean--"
"Nah, it's cool," Dan said dismissively. "If I were flirting with me, I would want to tap that, too.")
Managing to regain his equilibrium, Alan said, "Well, there's nothing wrong with a little self-love now and then."
"I'm resisting the urge to say 'That's what she said,' but, frankly, it's overwhelming and I don't know if I'm going to make it," Dan said. "Pop culture dictates that it's the correct response, and I'm highly susceptible to outside pressure."
"That's what she said," Alan said, giving Dan a smirk of his own. Dan burst out laughing.
"Well played, Alan Pratchett. Well played. I think you've officially passed a test I didn't even realize I was giving you," Dan managed to say, once his laughter had died down. They were crossing the grass to the entrance to the Butler Building and Alan was feeling pretty good about himself. He hadn't seriously flirted with anyone in... god, eight years?...and it wasn't something he had been good at to begin with. It felt refreshing, but certainly strange. A part of his brain was still insisting that this was akin to cheating, and his chest ached a little. He hoped that would pass with time. He needed to stop feeling like he was just waiting for Danny to get back from an extended business trip, and maybe flirting with someone new would be the cure he was looking for.
"Well, I'm glad I've gotten your approval," Alan said. He held open the door to the building and let Dan go ahead of him. Dan was in the same black sweater and slacks from Friday, or at least very similar ones. At least he looked good in black.
"The copy room is all the way down this hallway on the right," Dan said, pointing to the bend in the hallway. "It's the last door down that hall."
"Thanks," Alan said. "Maybe I'll remember that this time."
"Paper's in the cabinets in the closet," Dan added. "For some reason, it's locked, but the code is 1-2-3-4-5. I've gotta go argue with Sunita about getting my kids into the library this afternoon."
"Sounds like fun," Alan said, grinning. "I'll see you around."
"Count on it," Dan assured him.
Alan watched Dan disappear into the library. He continued to watch as the doors slammed shut, standing in the hallway until he heard the tell-tale click of heels pounding down the staircase.
"Oh, wonderful!" a French-accented voice said, dripping with frustration and sarcasm. "Someone who's as lost as I am."
Laura Carter's long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun. Instead of the jeans and rumpled button down shirt she had been wearing the past two times he had seen her, she was wearing a knee-length black dress and calf-high boots. She did not look pleased.
"Did you get directions from Hank Silverman?" Alan asked.
"Is he the weasel-y looking one?"
"Yeah, he tried to get me, too," Alan said. "Dan showed me how to get there. It's just down this way."
"Is it really down this way, or he is just fucking with us as well?" she asked.
"I'm pretty sure it is down this way," Alan said, "if only because I'm pretty sure we're flirting and he probably doesn't want me to seek revenge this early into it."
"Some men like that sort of thing," she said. "Ryan in particular seems to enjoy having his ass kicked."
"Still," Alan said, taking Laura's bitter deadpan as a cue not to start laughing, "I think we're pretty safe. Down the hallway to the right, through the door, the paper is locked in the cabinet."
"Locked?" Laura said. "What is this, some sort of hazing?"
"No, no," Alan said. "Dan gave me the code. It's okay."
Laura shook her head, but followed him down the hallway. The copy room was exactly where Dan said it would be, and it was also empty. The code to the storage closet worked, and it was fully stocked with paper and not the spring snacks that Alan had half expected. He let Laura make her copies first, settling down at the spare desk shoved into the corner.
"So what brings you to Beaumont?" he asked once Laura had closed the machine and stood back to wait.
"Work," she said absently.
"Well, I mean, what were you doing before?" She glanced at him sharply. "Middle school, high school, college?" he supplied. "Private? Public?"
"Oh!" She relaxed a little, and muttered something to herself in French. "Oh, of course. I taught English in France," she said. She paused. "That's how I met Ryan. He was teaching English too. In college. About ten years ago."
Something about her manner seemed wooden and odd, but she relaxed after a moment, and Alan dismissed it. "That sounds wonderful," he said. "I've never been to France, actually. My ex and I kept saying we were going to go--my dad's ladyfriend has a house somewhere in the south of France and she was always encouraging my siblings and me to make use of it."
"Do you know where?" she asked.
"Not off the top of my head," he admitted, frowning. "I could ask my dad."
"Oh, it's not that important," Laura insisted. "If you think of it, but don't make a special call on my account. What about you? Where are you from?"
"Here," Alan said. "Well, New York, actually, but about forty-five minutes from here. About twelve years of public school, middle and high school, and a year at a private high school."
"And you teach one of the sciences, yes?" she asked, turning back to take her copies out of the tray. Alan took her place, running off his worksheets for the rest of the week.
"Chemistry," he said.
"I was never one for science," she admitted. "What brought you to Beaumont? Were you unhappy where you were?"
"Yeah," Alan said, not looking up from the rumbling copy maker. "You could say that. It's funny, I was actually just beginning a job search when the Beaumont opening came up online. I guess I lucked out."
"That's how you found out about it?" Laura asked. "On the internet?"
"Yes," Alan said. "Thank god. I couldn't have taken another full semester where I was." He turned around, chewing on his lower lip. It was a rather odd line of questioning. He wondered if there was some sort of cultural divide that he didn't know about. "Anyway, I'm here now and so are you. Are you and your husband enjoying yourselves so far?"
The look that passed over Laura's face couldn't be called anything other than a grimace.
"Ryan is enjoying himself immensely. Of course, Ryan always enjoys himself when I am out of my element. But I'm adjusting. This is radically different than my last job."
Definitely the cultural divide.
"It gets easier, I promise," Alan assured her. "These kids are so brilliant... I know it's overwhelming at first, but I think the fact that they enjoy themselves so much is more than worth the added challenge."
"That's good to know," Laura said. She gathered all of her copies together. "It was lovely to speak to you, Alan. I look forward to seeing you around."
"You too!" Alan said. "I live up in 4D. I don't have a lot of furniture yet, but feel free to stop by whenever you want, both of you. I'm trying to actually cultivate a social life for the first time in a year and a half, and it helps to have friends."
"We would love to," Laura said. "I'll see you."
***
The first week passed more quickly than Alan expected, and before he knew it he was closing in on the end of week two. Things seemed to be going back to normal at Beaumont, at least as far as Alan could tell. The mood was less sombre, and he heard laughter and complaining in the teacher's lounge. Most of the teachers still kept to themselves, but Alan stuck so close to Doug that it didn't matter. Sunita Shah smiled at him in the hallways, and Laura sought him out on their shared lunch period, and aside from them and an occasional check-up from Allison, his exposure to the rest of the staff was minimal. Well, except for Dan. Well, except for Dan and Hank.
Things with Dan hadn't so much proceeded as they did continue on in the same manner as they had been. They bumped into each other in the hallways, flirted blatantly in front of the rest of the faculty, but went no further. Alan was trying to work up the nerve to ask him out, but the pressure to do so in the same witty, irreverent tone as their flirtation was a little much, not to mention the fact that he was still feeling sick when he thought about a new relationship too much. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he'd never be ready. Maybe he'd left the part of him that needed another person in Danny Stevens' luggage, or in their old house in Centennial.
Maybe he just needed to bite the bullet and get on with his life.
Hank, of course, posed another problem. While his time with Dan hadn't increased noticeably, Hank was everywhere he looked. He didn't say anything or do anything, he was just... there. Doug brushed it off, saying that Hank was just an oddball who didn't like things out of place. He assured Alan that Hank would get used to him eventually and find something better to do with his time, but in the mean time, it was unsettling.
He pointed it out when he called his sister that Thursday night, eyes on the patch of sky he could see from his living room window.
"I feel like I have a stalker is all," he said, shivering absently, even though he knew Hank was three buildings over and not lurking outside his second story window. "I turn around, and there he is."
"Maybe he's got a thing," Cynthia says. "As much as it both disgusts and pains me to admit it, you're an attractive guy, Alan."
"Dan said he's straight as a pin," Alan said absently and dismissively.
"Excuse me?" Cynthia said after a pregnant pause. "Who said?"
"He's just a guy who works here," Alan said. "It's not a big deal. Daniel is an exceedingly common name."
"Yeah," Cynthia said. "Right. Speaking of--"
"No."
Trust Cynthia to know both the best way to get his full attention and the quickest way to piss him off.
"Alan, I was out in California last week, and--"
"No!" Alan nearly shouted. "Cynthia, don't you even dare."
"If you would just talk to him, Alan--"
"He made his choice."
"He was a huge part of your life!"
"And he chose to throw that away. I'm done, Cynthia. I'm trying to put it behind me, but I can't do that if you and Dad and everyone else keep bringing it up."
"You can't ignore him forever, Alan!"
"Watch me." There was an edge to his voice that he didn't normally use with his sister, but she was pushing buttons that she knew better than to push. "Anyway," he said, straining to recapture the easy-going tone of the early conversation and knowing it was impossible, "It's a nice night. I think I'm going to take a telescope up to the top of the main classroom building. My neighbor, Doug, told me there's an undisrupted view up there."
"Sounds like fun." Cynthia's voice was flat and aggravated. "I'll leave you to it."
"Thanks," he said.
"This isn't done, Alan," she said, but before he could response, he heard the click at the other end of the line. He held onto the phone for another few seconds before lowering his arm and dropping it onto the end table.
Over the past two weekends, he had managed to move almost all of his things into the apartment. It looked like a completely different place when stuffed with his book cases, couch, and entertainment center. His books lined the walls, his photos were hanging up, and the spare bedroom was stuffed with the boxes from his old house that he still hadn't unpacked. It looked more like home, but in the silence after his phone call, it felt like some mockery of what home used to be.
He hadn't been lying when he said it was a nice night. It only took him a few moments to find his coat and scarf and collect one of his telescopes from the spare bedroom. His gloves were missing, but he needed to clear his head, and he figured that was what he had pockets for.
He paused in front of Doug's door and debated asking for company. Doug was good at knowing when to pry and knowing when any further digging would be a bad idea. Still, he didn't think companionship was what he was looking for tonight. It would probably be better spent on his own, staring up at the stars, reminding himself that this was all for the best.
It was a quick walk across campus, but the cold bit more than it had when he left school a few hours earlier. Thanksgiving was only a week away and the weather had started to reflect it. The leaves were quickly disappearing from the trees and he could smell winter in the air, just around the corner. Winter used to be his favorite season. Christmas was a wonderful affair in his family. Although no one could claim any real religious affiliation, family was important to them. He loved the preparation and the bustle and the joy. Had loved them, at least. The last Christmas he celebrated had fallen flat, for all of them. His apartment at Durst had remained bare, and the long, cold winter spent on his own had sucked all the joy out of the season. He was hoping to make this year better, but the memories still lingered.
His fingers fumbled with his keys, but it wasn't long before he was in the building and walking up the back staircase to the roof. When he pulled out his keys to open the last door, he found it was already unlatched. Cautiously, he proceeded onto the roof, his mind flashing to a million nightmare scenarios, despite the fact that Allison's voice was ringing in his head, reminding him that Elizabeth Gaynor and Donna Ashby disappeared off-campus.
"Seriously, Gus.... No, man, you're a fucking lunatic, now could you please... Jesus." It was Dan's voice, and good to hear. Everything else aside, he'd feel like shit if he was murdered and his last conversation with his sister had been an argument about Danny Stevens. He crept out of the shadows and stepped onto the roof, telescope still tucked under his arm. Dan was sitting on the ledge, cellphone tucked under his ear, cigarette dangling from his fingers. When the door slammed behind Alan, he turned, looked surprised, and then smiled.
"Yeah," he said into the phone. "No. Gus, I don't care... I don't care. You're crazy, I don't care, and also you're crazy.... Gus, look, I really don't want to talk to you anymore, especially because someone a lot more attractive and a lot less crazy just joined me on the roof, so I'm going to hang up now."
True to his word, he snapped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket.
"Hi," Alan said.
"Hey," Dan said. He took a long drag off of his cigarette and waved.
"I was just going to clear my head," Alan said. "Take a look at the stars."
"I was just fielding another call from my psychotic ex," Dan said. "We've been broken up for two months and I still have to hear about all the crazy shit he pulls. Good times."
"Sounds like it," Alan said. "I dated a guy like that in college. He practically stalked me after we broke up. I found out later that I popped his gay cherry. He wrote a song about me and everything. It was... kind of creepy. My sister used to call him my sneaking shadow."
"Used to?" Dan asked.
"Well, after a while he became The First Daniel," Alan admitted.
"The First Daniel?" Dan asked. He took another drag off his cigarette.
"You'll like this," Alan said. He rubbed his freezing fingers together before stuffing them back in his pockets. "My ex's name was also Daniel. Danny, actually. The first one went by Daniel, the second one went by Danny."
Dan squinted at him for a moment, and Alan felt his cheeks heat up under the scrutiny.
"You're making that up," he finally said.
"Hand to god," Alan said, holding up his hand for a moment before hurriedly shoving it back into the pocket of his peacoat.
"I don't even know what to do with that information," Dan said. He dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, then pulled the pack out. "There are so many things I can say that I can't even pick one. They're all too good." He offered the pack to Alan.
"I don't smoke," Alan said.
"I don't either," Dan replied. "Smoking on the roof doesn't count."
"Yeah?" Alan asked. He finally moved forward, joining Dan near the ledge and leaning his telescope against it. "Tell that to your lungs."
"Only when my students or my boyfriend get to be too much, and only on the roof," Dan said. "Those are the rules. It usually takes me about three or four months to smoke a pack. That's two or three packs a year, when you factor in summer vacation, and sometimes it's less than that. I think I'm doing pretty well." He shoved the pack back into his pocket and crossed his arms. "Anyway."
"Yeah," Alan said. "I was just..."
"Telescope, yeah," Dan said. "You said that. Rough day? You look a little green around the gills."
"I'm fine," Alan said. "A little chilly. Better, now that I'm outside." Better now that he was talking to someone. To an attractive man he was interested in, at that. He was moving on. Regardless of what Cynthia thought, of what his father thought, he was ready to move on and he was doing it.
Really.
Any second now.
"Listen," he finally said, swallowing past the lump in his throat, but Dan's phone rang again, interrupting him. Dan pulled it out of his pocket and cursed under his breath.
"Hold on one second," Dan said. He opened his phone. "Hey, what's up? Uh-huh? That's great. I'll be by to get him in like, ten minutes. Yeah. I'll leave now." Alan watched, rubbing his hands together again and trying to decipher what was happening. Once Dan hung up, Alan stared at him expectantly.
"I gotta go," Dan said. "It's getting late, and I've got The West Wing and The Simpsons waiting on my TiVo." When Alan's face fell, Dan smiled sheepishly. "Just kidding. I actually have to pick my dog up from the vet, but the television is important too. Were you saying something before my phone rang?"
Alan opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. "Nothing," he said. "It's not a big deal. I hope your dog's okay."
Dan began to root around in his pockets. "My dog's an idiot, but he'll be fine." Seemingly finding what he was looking for, Dan pulled something dark out of his pocket and then took two steps forward, right into Alan's personal space. His stomach jumped into his throat. "Anyway, I think you need these more than I do." Alan pulled his eyes away from Dan's face just as he was pressing something into Alan's hands. It took him a second to realize it was a pair of gloves.
"Thanks," he said, finding himself breaking out into a grin. Dan didn't step away.
"Just so you know," he said, taking advantage of the two inches he had on Alan, as well as their closeness, "I'll be by at some point tomorrow to collect both the gloves and compensation for the rental."
"Compensation?" Alan asked dumbly. Dan smirked and stepped back.
"Yeah. I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something. Have a good night."
For the second time in as many weeks, Alan found himself staring at a swinging door long after Dan had gone.