Of all the things he had done in his life–which is to say not that many–there was one thing Ryland Grace prided himself on. His reputation as the ‘cool teacher’.

Okay, it wasn't much to be so overjoyed about. But hey--can't a man flaunt his achievements? For years now, he had built up credibility in the form of little to no homework, relatability to his students, and most of all a pretty damn cool classroom. It was hard work, trying to tiptoe the line between 'cool and fun' And 'millenial cringe'. Especially at his age, and especially in front of twelve year olds.

But he did it. And the kids loved him. School trip? Everyone swarmed to his group. Who did they tell all the gossip to? Him, obviously. Who did old students come and see first? The answer was so obvious he didn't even have to say it.

Of course, that was only when you weren't in the picture.

Because, yeah, he wasn't the only cool teacher in the whole of Grover Cleveland middle school. Not that he minded. It wasn't some sort of competition. Not at all. The students could have two favourites, obviously, it wasn't like he was competing for the title of best teacher--

Except that... Yeah, he was.

There was just something about you that made him want to be better. Ryland had never thought of himself as particularly competitive--one of the main reasons he dropped academic research, really--but you ticked him off. When he walked past your classroom and saw your own decor, or if a couple of students would sigh in defeat when he showed up instead of you.

He was pretty sure that you were just as competitive as him, though. A small comment here, a passing glance there, it wasn't hard to see that you probably kept a tally of how many times you one-upped him. You'd keep a fun, friendly rivalry going in front of the students, at least. They weren't blind to the fact that some sort of little battle was going on, and it was better to pretend to be friends than have that awkward, fake professionalism.

The staff room was certainly different. Other teachers would get vaguely uncomfortable if one of you walked in while the other was already there, as if you were vinegar and bleach about to be thrown in the same bucket. Even your closest colleagues would try and steer you away from each other if it looked like you were about to cross in a hallway.

Today, of course, would be no different. The staff room had been rearranged to leave more of an open space, letting most of Grover Cleveland middle school's teachers fit into it comfortably for their annual Christmas-slash-end-of-year party. The students had gotten the afternoon off for their own little celebrations --most famously, and most importantly, the mid-year crowning of the best teachers.

To Ryland's horror, he had not won coolest teacher. You had. Okay, he had gotten 'funniest', but that just... Wasn't the same, was it. You had looked so smug when the student council heads had crowned you, and the little paper crown sat neatly in your classroom next to the ones you had won on the previous years.

He had no right to be mad, and he knew it well. You had won fair and square, even if it made him seethe internally. Ryland wasn't about to contest some silly little school ritual. But just because he couldn't do anything about it, it didn't mean he couldn't be really annoying.

So, just as you were about to pour yourself another drink at the makeshift bar, he wandered over inconspicuously. Everyone else was too busy having fun and laughing to worry about the two of you interacting.

"So, coolest teacher, huh? I was kind of surprised to see you win this year. Didn't you lose it with those six graders last week? I mean, that's a whole class that probably didn't vote for you, right."