'Job interview'

James Montez never thought he'd be back at Manson. Not ever. He had hated it, for the last year he was here. Why come back? Because no one else would hire him. Maybe the old headmistress would feel some pity for him. She did used to like him.

He sighed, waiting for the headmistress to come and interview him. They were desperate for teachers now. He studied art in college. So here he was to apply to be the art teacher.

When the door finally opened, he turned, only to see a face he thought he wouldn't see again. Ever.

Rachel was correcting essays when she heard a knock on the door. Maybe it was the man who had come to interview for the art position. Finishing Blair Walker's essay, which was actually pretty decent, she set down her pen and opened the door to her office. She opened her mouth to say hello, but her eyes widened when she saw a face she had prayed to never see again.

"JAMES MONTEZ?" She nearly screamed, scowling at him. As much as Rachel wanted to slam the door in his face, she didn't.

James couldn't help but smile. "Hello Rachel. Long time no see?" He said, with a small grin. "wow" he said again, he really couldn't believe it "Where's the old lady? Did you kill her off?" He asked, running a hand through his thick hair. "God I thought you jumped ship and moved to Paris or something" He said, "After you went to college of course... Did you end up going to Yale?" He asked, completely forgetting the interview.

Rachel glared at him. "She retired." Rachel spat, crossing her arms. This was the last person on the entire fucking planet - hell, the entire fucking galaxy that she ever wanted to see again. "No, I didn't." Rachel said. "And I went to Yale. Graduated top of my class, though I'm sure that's something you can't say."

"God you're the same as ever aren't you?" He asked, smirking. "Of course you did. Yale. Just like you wanted. nice, No I went to a local college. I got a scholarship and it was affordable and that would work so I could also maintain my jobs while attending college. I graduated a year late, but I still had a home" He said "Now how about that interview?"

"Lovely." Rachel spat, narrowing her eyes at him. God she did not want to see him. At all. "You have the job. Now please, get the fuck out of here." She said to him, reaching to close the door to her office.

He put his hand out to stop the door "Just like that?" he asked "Man you're going to get all sorts of weirdos with interviews like that" He said, smirking "Or did you just give me the job because you think, no because you KNOW I'm kick ass"

Rachel scowled at him. "Have you ever thought that maybe I'm not in the mood to talk to you?" Rachel spat angrily, "You are such an ass," She scowled at him. "I don't want you working here, but if I told you know, you wouldn't leave me alone. So leave me alone, and get the fuck out."

James looked down, and let his hand drop, putting his foot in the way of the door "Rachel... listen. Can we talk? About back then? About what happened? As mature adults as opposed to pissed off brokenhearted teenagers?" He asked, his face had gone serious, "Please?" he asked, with a pleading look.

Rachel sighed, crossing her arms at him. Pushing the door open, she let him in to sit down. Sitting down in the chair across from him, she rested her head in her hand. "What is it you want to talk about?" She asked him, tapping her foot against the chair.

"All those years ago. When we..." He had wanted to tell her for ages, but now he couldn't find the right words. "My mom, she was really sick. And that girl, I can't even remember her name, she saw me crying, and she wanted to talk, and I don't even know how but.... you know.. I..." He put his head in his hands "Rachel I'm so sorry. God you have no idea how sorry I am"

Rachel bit her lip, sighing. "And you didn't tell me?" She asked. "James, I'm really sorry about your mom, but why didn't you tell me?" Rachel was slightly mad at him now. "And there's no empty cottages. I'll talk to Mr. Walker later, they'll build you a new one. So you'll be staying in my house."

"I couldn't. I was... I didn't want to tell you my problems. I didn't want to be needy." He said quietly "Because I knew that I was going to fuck everything up as per usual, and I didn't want to fuck things up with you because with you everything felt so-" He stopped.

"Live.......... with... you?" He said "Like, in the same house? No duh. Um, okay?"

"Really? You couldn't tell your girlfriend that your mother was about to die?" Rachel spat. "That's bullshit."

"Yes." Rachel said, crossing her arms again.

"Rache, you know how I am. I HATE when people pity me. I hate it. It makes me feel little and" He took a deep breath "I know. I fucked it up" he said quietly. "I am sorry Rachel." he said, and for some reason, he fell back into his old habit, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

"What? Just you and me?" He asked

"There's a difference between that and not telling someone that your mother is about to die, James!" Rachel exclaimed angrily. He kissed her, making Rachel even more angry. Pushing him off her, she glared. "Unfortunately."

"God dammitt!" He almost yelled "Fine. Thanks for the job" he said and stormed out of the room. He knew it now. He still loved her.

Rachel scowled at him as he walked out of the room, sitting down in her chair. She regretted giving him the job. He had broken her heart, and now she had to see him and work with him. Damn, she thought, going back to correcting the Latin papers.

James stood outside her door for a moment, wanting to go back in. But he didn't. He couldn't. What was he supposed to do, run in and tell her how he felt? She'd laugh. He didn't blame her. He had been an idiot. He still was. But he was an idiot who was possibly maybe a little bit in love with the one and only Rachel Emerson