Chapter Text
"Hey, Mr. Berkman."
"Hello, Tommy."
"Good evening, Mr. Berkman."
"Jessica. Nice to see you."
"Out past your bedtime, Boomer?"
"Hey!" Roger spins around from his meet-and-greet with the crowded lot of buses and calls after the two snickering teens. "I'm Gen X, do your research." Though he doubts Miss Katsaros and Mr. Brown are capable of doing any research that doesn't involve locking lips on school property. Maybe if they spent less time playing tonsil-hockey and more time studying, they wouldn't have failed their final exam. And maybe if he hadn't given in to his colleague Barb's bullying, he could be at home relaxing right now, instead of out at the aquarium wasting a perfectly good Saturday night chaperoning hormonal kids.
"The senior class sleepover only comes once a year," she'd said, stirring her coffee smugly. "Wouldn't you like one last chance to grumble at your students before graduation?" Not really; he'd gotten most of his grumbling out by mid-May. Now he's just ready to eat some macarons on a sunny beach, or failing that, the comfort of his couch. If Barb doesn't twist his arm to take on summer school.
Glaring at their backs, he rolls his sleeves up higher, tightens his ponytail, and straps in for a night of frustrating "fun."
"Mr. Berkman?" A soft voice tickles his ears. "I didn't think you'd be coming out tonight."
Well, at least there are some good things left in this semester. With a grin, he turns towards the familiar face, her tawny cheeks dusted a rosy pink, and her magenta t-shirt a perfect match for the scrunchies that hold up her pigtails. "And miss a chance to see my favorite student? Not on your life."
Her heart-shaped earrings jingle when she giggles. "Oh yeah? Who's that?"
Tanya Martinez. A thoughtful, hardworking girl, with a knack for conversation and eyes as pale and gray as his own. One of his best students, and always a pleasure to be around. Especially when she smiles at him like this, sweetly enough to make Roger feel as if he's the most important person in the room. "Take a guess and I might give you extra credit on the exam."
"Kinda average height, always wears her hair in pigtails?" She holds out her hand, palm up. "I'll take that extra credit now, thanks."
"You got it—if you can tell me who won the War of 1812."
Tanya rolls her eyes. "C'mon, Mr. Berkman, we're not in class. Just let me enjoy the fish."
"Sure," he says, "but I don't see how fish can be more exciting than World History. I mean, all they do is swim. I can swim, too. It's not a big deal."
"Can you look good while doing it?" She asks.
Alright, she's got him there. Nobody wants to see a middle-aged man with a flabby stomach and graying chest hairs flopping around like a soggy noodle. "All I'm saying is my dentist has a fish tank in his office. It's not as big a deal as people make it out to be."
"Are you really gonna choose a root canal over your favorite student?"
"Oh yeah? Who's that?"
She crosses her arms and cocks her head to the side, lips pressed together tightly. Roger laughs. "OK, OK, you got me, kiddo. Why don't you head inside with the others now. We'll catch up at one of the tanks later, and you can give me pointers on how to impress a clownfish."
Those soft cheeks turn a deeper pink and, fidgeting, Tanya tugs on one of her backpack straps. "OK. Um—See you later?"
"I'll be looking forward to it." Though, as he watches her hurry through the doors, he can't imagine how his presence would be more thrilling than a shark's or stingray's. And he can't quite figure out why that should make him jealous.
Maybe it's his age showing, or the fact that Barb had guzzled most of the faculty's complimentary coffee, but it's nothing short of a miracle that Roger manages to stay awake past midnight.
Jesus Christ, do these kids ever sleep? Hour after hour of running around with their friends, playing Hide-and-Seek and going on scavenger hunts while he struggles to keep his eyes open in the very likely event that someone will attempt to hold a "twerking" contest inside the penguin exhibit. God knows if he were a penguin, that's the last thing he'd want to see on his doorstep. Or cave entrance. Whatever.
He yawns, scratching the coarse hairs on his chin.
It would have been nice to talk to Tanya for a bit. But he can't blame her for choosing her friends over an old fart like him. Regardless of how excited she'd seemed, and how he'd been anticipating it more than any display the aquarium could offer.
Well, at least he'll get to see her a little while longer. They can talk about the trip when it's over, and her growing pile of college acceptance letters, which dress she's decided to wear for prom. He hopes it's the powder blue one. He's always liked that color, and it had looked nice in the photo she'd shown him. Elegant, but cute. Definitely her style. Maybe he should volunteer to chaperone there, too. Barb wouldn't even have to tease him about it.
Roger frowns and stares down at the floor.
He's really going to miss her after graduation. And not just because she'd paid attention in his class, and raised her hand often, and always volunteered to help him sweep the room on Fridays. Truth is, he simply enjoys being around her, making her smile and laugh, listening to her gush about her day and her plans for the weekend. When he's with her, he feels…well, he's not sure how he feels. Calm, definitely. And needed. Cared for in a way he hasn't felt since before the divorce, over a decade ago. Happy enough to keep him smiling when he's at his loneliest. Because he knows he'll see her bright and early Monday morning. Even if those days won't last forever.
Right now, though, Roger is certain that he won't last much longer.
"I'm going for a walk before I keel over," he turns and says to Barb. "If the kids act up, just give them an angry glare for me."
Barb smirks, her eyes surprisingly bright and bag-free. Must be that fancy makeup they sell to aging fortysomethings with a caffeine and nicotine addiction. "I'm not going to find you passed out beside the eel tank, am I? Because I may or may not have brought some markers with me."
Great, and he thought the students would be the most immature ones here. "If I wake up with a penis on my face, I'm throwing a pufferfish at you."
"Just remember, Roger, only nerds fall asleep first. You don't want to be a nerd, do you?"
If it gets him home without crashing into a telephone pole, sure, he'll be a nerd all night long.
A corridor of gentle lights guides him away from the main atrium, rainbow corals and dancing jellies his companions on a journey to another world. He smiles at a pair of seahorses, waves to a school of angelfish as he passes by. Enjoys the tranquil scenery that ends in a darkened room with a tropical tank curving around two of the three walls. It's actually pretty nice here, without the crowds of bodies and echoes of voices smothering him from all angles. He doesn't need to try hard at all to picture himself floating among the fish, water warm on his skin, like the welcome embrace of someone special.
"Mr. Berkman?"
The voice sounds too gentle to be real, and Roger turns to find Tanya standing there, hands hidden in the pockets of an oversized red hoodie. "It's like 1AM," she says. "What are you doing up?"
Enjoying himself? "I should ask you the same thing."
"I'm eighteen, I can pull an all-nighter without a drop of caffeine."
"Well, I'm fifty-two and my back can't take so much as ten minutes sleeping on the floor. If I'm going to be up until sunrise, I figured I might as well spend it looking at something nice."
She glances away shyly, pulling her hands from her pockets to toy with the drawstrings. "Can I look with you?"
Roger smiles. "I'd like that. If you don't mind keeping this old man company."
The grin that lights up her face is all the answer he needs. "Scoot over."
She slides in beside him, until they're standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder, so close Roger can feel her sleeves brush his bare forearms.
It's the chill in here, he tells himself. They've got the air conditioning turned up too high. That's the reason he's shivering now. Finding himself moving even closer, to borrow some of her warmth. "Y'know, you were right," he says, peering through the glass. "These little guys aren't boring after all."
Tanya reaches across and points at a smallish fish as it darts by. "You sure you can't swim like that?"
"I'm more like this lazy one over here," he replies, lifting a finger to stab at the tiny fellow lounging in a pale anemone.
"He's not lazy," she says. "He's just having a good time."
"Huh. Then I guess I am like him." He points at another, farther back in the tank. "This one reminds me of you."
"Why's that?"
"Because it's got that bright pink stripe. And it looks like a ball of sass."
Tanya scrunches up her face in that adorable pout of hers. "Well, you're gonna look like this striped one once your hair starts going gray."
"Well you're as snippy as this crab."
"You're this one—"
"No, you're this one—"
They tease each other back and forth like this, pointing all over until their hands practically crash together and their laughter echoes so loudly he's surprised it doesn't scare off the fish. And for all his griping, Roger couldn't be happier that he'd come tonight, just to spend another moment with her, the two alone in their own little universe. Plus the fish, of course. Though they don't seem to judge.
Time passes too fast, their joy falls silent. Somberly, Roger presses his fingers to the glass, tracing the outlines of Tanya's prints. "So, what are your plans after graduation?"
She shrugs. "Going to college and getting the hell out of this state. Sorry, can I say 'hell' in front of a teacher?"
Roger chuckles. "I'll let it slide this time. As a graduation present."
"Y'know," she says, as she shows him a bright smile, "I got another acceptance letter last night. With a scholarship offer and everything. I mean, it's not gonna cover all my tuition, but maybe I won't be in crushing debt twenty years from now."
"That's amazing! You'll be majoring in History, right?"
"I think I'll start with English and see how it goes. I could write a story about you."
"If you do, make sure to mention how cool I am. And give me a few less wrinkles, maybe. Some more chin hair. Make me look handsome."
They share another laugh, but it only lasts a second before Tanya's smile wavers, and she quietly says, "Hey, Mr. Berkman?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really gonna miss you."
"I'll miss you too, kiddo," he grins. "But you're moving on to bigger and better things, and I couldn't be more proud of you."
A melancholy light flickers in Tanya's eyes, tugging at Roger's heart until it feels as if she's already gone. Then, without a word, she pushes herself up on her tiptoes and kisses him softly on the lips.
His body tenses at once—surprised, disbelieving. But soon enough, he finds his eyes slipping shut, and the instant she starts to pull away, Roger chases after her, captivated by the warmth of her lips, the sweetness of her breath on his skin. The way she whimpers, timid and innocent as he's always known her to be.
Why? he asks as he pulls her closer. When? as their kisses grow hungry, their tongues swim together in a beautiful dance. He never imagined she'd taste so good, never dreamed of something like this at all. Yet, here she is, in his arms. These are her lips against his, her hands on his cheeks, her thumbs stroking his wrinkles with all the care and tenderness in the world. His student. His friend. And right now, his everything.
He lets out a quiet moan and kisses her deeper, leaning down so she doesn't need to stretch too much. The thought of being found this way never crosses his mind, but even if it did, Roger doubts he would have cared. There's no room in his head for anything but Tanya.
In the end, he's the one who breaks it first—to catch his breath, to gaze into her eyes as they stand gasping in the light from the tank. Tanya's hands slip from his face down to his shoulders, his arms tremble around her waist. They stare in silence while reality sinks back in, Roger unable to speak, unable to escape the fear that something has gone horribly wrong.
Then, Tanya's lips curl into a smile, and caught in each other's embrace, together they laugh.
"Ramona Lyman."
A girl with jet-black hair approaches the podium, shaking the principal's hand as she accepts her diploma.
"Damien Mallard."
A blonde boy is next, flashing a smile to the audience.
"Mark Marone."
This one does a little dance, to the delight of his peers.
"Tanya Martinez."
The second her name is called, Roger jumps up from his seat and claps as loud as he can. To hell with their instructions to "hold applause until the end;" as far as he's concerned, she deserves every last cheer in the auditorium.
"Tanya! Congratulations!" He calls out. But there was never any need to shout. Because as soon as she sees him, Tanya turns and smiles, a memory Roger will cherish till the very end of his days.