At least, he hoped he had.
That was why he’d run away, after all. To shake off the boy he’d been; to find himself in a big city like Baltimore, and maybe, just maybe...
Learn not to be so afraid.
But he almost couldn’t bring himself to speak, while the silence demanded an answer. “I’m not a student anymore,” he corrected, almost under his breath. “It’s...it’s me. Summer. Summer Hemlock. Your new TA.” He made himself look up, even if he didn’t raise his head, peeking at Iseya through the wreathing of smoke that made the man look like some strange and ghostly figure, this ethereal spirit swirled in mist and darkness. “Hi, Professor Iseya. Hi.”
Fox Iseya narrowed his eyes at the young man in the doorway.
He had nearly forgotten his new TA would be arriving today—or, more truthfully, he had put it out of his mind, when he was not particularly looking forward to training and shepherding an inept and inexperienced fresh university graduate in handling the fractious, contentious group of spoiled degenerates that made up the majority of Albin’s student body. He only needed a TA to ensure his replacement would be properly trained when he retired. Otherwise, having a second presence in the classroom was little more than an unwanted but unfortunately necessary nuisance.
The nuisance he had been expecting, however, was not the man standing awkwardly in the doorway, face half-obscured by the collar of his shirt.
The Summer Hemlock he remembered had been a gangly teenager, so pale he was nearly translucent, all angles and elbows everywhere. Fox recalled seeing more of the top of his head than anything else, a shaggy mop of black falling to hide blue eyes and a fresh, open face; he’d always huddled in his desk with his head bowed, and mumbled inaudible things when called on in class.
The young man in front of him almost mirrored that posture...but that was where the resemblance ended.
Summer was tall and athletic now, a lithe runner’s build outlined against his dress shirt and low-slung jeans; pale skin had darkened to a glowing, sunny tan that stood out vibrant even in the smoke-filled murk of the room. The lank mess of his hair had been tamed into a stylishly bedheaded tousle, perhaps in need of a trim but framing his face and rather strong jaw attractively. Too-wide, nervous blue eyes had deepened, shaded by firmly decisive brows.
Considering that Fox guided his students through to senior graduation and rarely ever saw them again, it was rather bizarre to contrast the boy he had taught with the man who had apparently come to take Fox’s place, when he retired next year.
But right now, he didn’t have time to think about that.
Not when Dr. Liu was currently racking up exponential increases in charges for property damage.
Fox flicked two fingers, beckoning. “Sand. Join the chain. Let’s do our best to keep this contained.”
Summer’s head came up sharply, and he looked at Fox for a single wide-eyed moment—and that drove home that sense of bizarrely unfamiliar familiarity, when Fox recalled quite clearly that direct eye contact could turn the boy into a stammering wreck, cringing and retreating. That moment of locked gazes lasted for only a second, before Summer nodded quickly and averted his eyes.
“Of course, sir—yes.”
Summer strode forward swiftly on long legs, and skirted around Fox to pick up a bucket and scoop up sand from the massive black trash bin that had been repurposed specifically to deal with Dr. Liu’s regrettably frequent “accidents.” The man was a nightmare and a half, and Fox supposed they could consider themselves lucky it had been two months since the last time the good doctor had practically burned the school down.
But they were running out of empty classrooms to repurpose for chemistry lessons while previously damaged rooms were repaired, and Fox intended to have words at the next faculty meeting.
Honestly, he didn’t understand how Dr. Liu still had a job.
And he quite firmly directed the chemistry teacher out of the way once more, as he returned to marshalling the emergency response group to put out the secondary fires that had erupted from jumping embers and ample fuel throughout the room. Fortunately this was rather a practiced habit, at this point—and within twenty minutes the blaze was contained, the last of it smothered beneath sand and fire extinguisher foam. They had, regrettably, learned years ago that Liu frequently worked with substances that only burned hotter when doused with water.
At Albin, the students weren’t the only ones who often had to learn from experience.
Yet throughout the suppression efforts, Fox repeatedly found his gaze straying toward Summer. His apparent shyness had vanished the moment he dove into the fray, joining the others rather energetically and hauling bucket after bucket of sand to chase down one sparking blaze after the other before it could get out of control.
By the time the clouds of smoke began to thin, Summer was a mess—his once-white shirt smeared with soot and ash, streaks of it along his cheeks and jaw, underscoring one eye in a rakish dash like face paint. But he was laughing, as he helped an older student shovel sodden, charred remnants of notebooks into a trash bag.
But the moment Fox called, “Mr. Hemlock,” Summer went stiff, every bit of ease bleeding out of his body to leave his back rigid and his shoulders tight.
Hm.
Interesting.
Summer glanced over his shoulder, looking toward Fox but not quite at him. “Yes, Professor Iseya?”
“Leave the cleanup to Dr. Liu. It’s the least he can do to compensate for his crimes.”
“Hey!” came from the corner Liu had sequestered himself in. Fox ignored him, crooking a finger at Summer.
“If you’ve brought your possessions, fetch them. You can use my suite to clean up and change. We have matters to discuss.”
Summer ducked his head, scrubbing his hands against his jeans. Beneath the smears of soot streaking pronounced cheekbones, tanned skin turned a decided shade of pink. He nodded quietly, obediently.
“Yes, Professor Iseya.”
Fox frowned. There was something...off about Summer’s
