I'm Your Guy - Melissa Schemmenti x F!Reader
A/N: [this is a repost im sorry guys :(] y/n is an artist, and the new art volunteer (and possibly teacher? Everyone seems to think so) , melissa likes artsy losers, and y/n likes hot messbian redhead milfs...yeah :)
Janine had been bothering Ava about their annual Peter Rabbit project for the fourth time that week, leading to a bickering match more akin to Ava verbally bludgeoning Janine to high Hell in front of the rest of the teachers.
For Janine’s sake, the others pretended to not hear the curve balls and hard truths Ava hurled at the younger woman, and ate their food. Once she was truly, finally done, Ava had given a dramatic sigh and a ‘fine’. Despite it all, Janine grinned from ear to ear, excited that she finally agreed to a new art teacher for the school.
“So…Ava agreed to get a new art teacher here! Isn’t that just great! It’s great…! Right guys?” The teacher sat her hands on her hips, looking at the camera with that prideful look everyone knew well.
“Janine-” Barbra raised her brows, the tired expression on her face had never been more apparent. “That’s wonderful, Ms. Teagues, but please keep it down, I have a terrible migraine.”
“Oh- sorry! I’ll- I’ll be quiet now. Yeah…don’t mind me! I’m not even here.” The brunette whispered sheepishly, grabbing her food out of the microwave as quietly as possible (it was still very loud),and continuing her silent (it was not silent) victory.
You weren’t getting paid for your time. That was okay, it looked good on a resume and you didn't mind volunteer work. It’s what got you through most of your Sophomore year of art school. If anything, you would be able to tackle one of the less well covered aspects of the arts- “Inspiring the Younger Generations”.
Most of the time people became art teachers from not being able to find stable work while freelancing. You did it because you had extra time on your hands. Working as a character designer had been steady going and much more relaxed than the college presented it to be.
Wandering your way down the halls of Abbott, the lights buzzed slightly in some areas, and flickered off and on in others. Well taken care of with what they were given, you could appreciate the staff for working with what they had. That seemed to be the majority of public schools in Philly these days. Approaching the front office, you peeked in, carrying your bag and portfolio with you. You weren’t sure what you’d need it for, but your Professors always said you should bring it, even if you didn't think you’d have to show it to anyone.
Ava looked up from her desk, narrowing her eyes and then glanced at your portfolio. The thought registered in her eyes and she gave a big smile, waving.
“You’re the new art teacher, right?”
“Not a teacher, but a volunteer, yes.” You confirmed with a small nod, smiling.
“Uhm. Same thing, teacher, volunteer, most of the time they become teachers. I don’t know why, this place is literally bottom of the barrel. I don’t complain, I ain’t the ones payin’ you.” She clicked her tongue, shrugging.
“I-I’m sorry, are- you the-”
“Principle? Yeah.” Ava nodded, pointing to the placard on her desk.
“Alright, Principle- uhm.” You looked around for anything that might have her name on it.
“Just call me Ava.”
“Alright- Ava, where should I go? Is there a class I should set up in or–?”
“Ion know, go check with the other teachers. They’re the ones who sit in the classrooms. The teacher’s lounge is over there somewhere.”
With a cursory glance towards the general direction Ava had gestured at, you nodded slowly, before figuring you’d be better off wandering around than talking with the ‘Principal’.
After about ten minutes of mindless wandering, and asking small children where the teacher’s lounge was, you came to the door labeled “STAFF ONLY” Testing the door handle, your were both surprised and horrified when the door opened swiftly. Coming face to face with a small, redheaded woman, you stopped abruptly, very nearly crashing head first into her AND the door. Quickly, you regathered yourself, looking down to see the woman’s disgruntled expression.
“I’m so sorry-” You bumbled out, smiling nervously. The woman in front of you grabbed your arm, steadying herself and sighing. “You’re fine, kid. Just watch where you’re going.” You nodded, Glancing up into the room and waving to everyone, before resting a hand on the teacher’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “I’m sorry, again.”
“Wait wait- wait a minute. Who are you? And why are you going into the lounge? Sleeper agent? You with the fuzz?” Narrowing her eyes, the redhead looked you up and down, her gaze hardening with each question.
“I’m the new art volunteer.” You reassured, looking over to the clock and back to everyone in the lounge. The teacher’s demeanor immediately softened, a warming smile spreading across her face. “New art teacher? I know Janine’ll get a kick outta that. You take care, hon. And welcome, by the way.” She slipped past you, patting your back on the way out. Just as quickly as she had arrived, she had left.
“Uhm- who’s that?” You asked, looking to the unfamiliar faces of the teachers for an answer.
“That’s Ms. Schemmenti, she likes being called Melissa by other staff, though.” A young, bright eyed teacher piped up, grinning and jogging over to you, already out of breath by the time she crossed the room. “I’m Janine. I’m the other second grade teacher. I was actually the one who requested we get a new Art Teacher!”
You wanted to correct everyone in that room, make it clear that you were JUST a volunteer, that this wasn't permanent, and if anything, you were slowly starting to hope you'd spend only a day or two here. The environment had felt foreign and vast, and now it felt foreign and overcrowded.
After a few introductions from Janine to the rest of the staff there, you began to relax a little. Small talk turned into light joking, and the tension in you eased significantly. Taking another sip from your coffee, you glanced over to Janine, who seemed to be looking at her computer with a heightened focus.
“Oh, Melissa’s asking for the new art teacher, says she needs to discuss books and what not to do with them…”
Janine and the others all cringed collectively at the mention of books, looking at you as Gregory spoke up. He had been quiet for the most part, so you figured when he spoke, you ought to listen.
“Yeah, uh- last year, Melissa ordered new copies of Peter Rabbit with her own money, brand new. Then Janine’s friend-” Janine cut Gregory off, squinting at him,”EX-friend. Emphasis on ex, we USED to be friends. But we’re- we’re not anymore. No way.” Janine nodded, continuing.
“Her name was Sahar. Long story short, she was a substitute art teacher who messed with Melissa, took all the books she had bought and turned them into an art sculpture. It was pretty crazy.” The young teacher grimaced, looking away.
“That was the angriest I had ever seen Melissa. In all my time here, I knew she was a step away from murder.” Barbara muttered, shaking her head. “I would recommend seeing her soon, her free periods are the only times when she isn’t with the kids. You’ve got–” She glanced at the clock,”Approximately 20 minutes until her free period is over. It was nice to meet you, Ms. L/N.”
Thanking Barbara for pointing you in the right direction, you gathered your portfolio in one arm and your bag in the other. After another couple minutes struggling to navigate the halls, you peeped in through the window to spot the allusive redhead sitting at her desk, chewing on what seemed to be a salad with some sort of fish in it.
You knocked twice, quick and light. After looking up to see your face and realizing it was you, Melissa offered a warm smile and gestured for you to come in.
“Hey! It’s the new art teacher! Come in, what’s the word on the street?” The redhead hummed, tapping something out on her phone before setting it down and turning her full attention towards you. For one reason or another, you found yourself beginning to get nervous. You preferred it when Melissa’s full attention wasn’t on you, but you said nothing about it. Clearing your throat, you instead pulled out your sketchbook, flipping to the most recent page.
“So I was thinking- since we’re going to be doing Peter Rabbit, and the premise is a mischievous bunny in a field of crops and what not, I figured I could make a larger diorama that the kids could paste their bunnies in and around to create a field full of bunnies! I’m not going to interrupt the process and tradition you and Ms. Teagues have with the paper plates, I think they’re adorable. I’m just the volunteer. I’ll pay out of pocket for materials and all that schmooze, so it’ll be pretty straightforward!”
Melissa had been quiet, listening to your proposal and taking the sketchbook from you, looking over the sketched out diorama you had planned. Something indescribable passed over her features, and she pushed her lower lip out with her tongue…she was thinking it over. Had you messed up? Were you already on the wrong foot?
“This sounds absolutely perfect! I got a guy who can dump off some craft stuff. I’m not too sure what you art kiddos are used to workin’ with but just know it ain’t gonna be fancy.” Melissa’s smile made your stomach do flips. You just smiled back and picked your portfolio up, trying to hide the growing warmth in your face.
“Thanks, Melissa. I’ll see you tomorrow-?”
“Works for me. See you, hon.”
With one more small wave, you rushed out of the class, heading straight home- completely oblivious to the fact that you’d left your sketchbook with Melissa. She had tried to call for you, but you had run out as fast as you had come in.
A few hours after your brief encounter with the 2nd grade teacher, you were sketching out some revised concepts for a show you had been asked to work on. Your phone buzzed, an unfamiliar number popping up on the screen. With a confused sigh, you read the message over, brain churning as you tried to figure out who this person was.
‘Hey hon, found your number on the inside cover of this piece of work. You left it with me after you left in a hurry. I’ll hold onto it!’
‘Had a peek inside by the way, your drawings and haikus are gorgeous! 🧡🧡’
You slapped yourself internally, realizing you HAD indeed left your sketchbook with Melissa that afternoon. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if you didn’t keep highly personal drawings and small poems scattered throughout the pages of what you considered your diary. She most certainly knew you were gay, and most CERTAINLY knew you had a thing for older women and redheads. Your life was over and it had barely even begun.
With another groan of embarrassment, you turned back to your phone, tapping out a quick response and slinking off to bed to go sulk yourself to sleep.
‘Hey Melissa! So sorry about that LOL 😭 I’ll pick it up tmr, I’m so so sorry omg!! Thanks again, ur an angel ’
You had gone to bed before you even noticed the near immediate response of your coworker.
‘No problem! Goodnight, hon. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow 🧡🧡’