The smell of roasted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes filled the kitchen as your mom hummed along to some old jazz song on the radio. You barely glanced up from your phone, half-listening as she chatted about her “new boyfriend” between flipping the vegetables in the oven. She’d been giddy for weeks now, always dropping little hints about him—kind, smart, a total gentleman.

You hadn’t paid much attention. After all, your mom’s dating life wasn’t exactly at the top of your list of concerns. But tonight was different. Tonight, you’d be meeting him for the first time.

“Be nice,” she warned as she set the table.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, already planning to keep the small talk to a minimum. It wasn’t like this guy was going to stick around anyway—none of them ever did.

When the doorbell rang, your mom practically floated to answer it. You stayed in the dining room, scrolling on your phone, until you heard her voice brighten even more. “Spencer! Come in! Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Thanks for inviting me. It smells amazing in here.”

Your heart dropped.

No. No way.

You turned slowly in your chair, your palms growing clammy as you watched him step into the room. Spencer Reid. Professor Reid. Your Criminology teacher. The man you’d spent the better part of the semester daydreaming about during class.

And now he was here. In your house. Smiling at your mom like she hung the moon.

“Sweetie,” your mom said, oblivious to your internal meltdown, “this is Spencer.”

You stared and his eyes flicked to yours, and for a split second, you thought you saw recognition flash across his face.

“Y-you’re…” you stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Your teacher,” he finished softly, his brows knitting together in what you could only describe as mild panic. “I didn’t realize…”

Neither did you, apparently.

Your mom laughed, completely missing the tension crackling between the two of you. “What a coincidence! I told you he was a teacher, didn’t I? Isn’t that funny?”