Love blossoms in the fertile soil of proximity and affinity. As cute as the classic “meet cute” may be, two people who do not interact frequently enough are much less likely to form a lasting relationship. Of course, I enjoy romantic stories about protagonists from two different worlds meeting by chance and falling madly in love as much as the next person (or maybe a little bit more), but in life I’m a pragmatist.

Could a person’s perfect match be someone they’ve never met and never will? No, because then they wouldn’t be perfect. Lovers must run in similar circles to begin with and integrate into each other's lives well. Which is why school is the ideal playground for a matchmaker like me. A place where connections are made and similarities are highlighted by neat little divisions called departments. When matching two individuals, I first consider their affinities–similarities in personalities, interests, and values–and then their proximity–where they are likely to meet and interact.  

However, sometimes, despite high affinity and proximity, two hopeless fools can circle around each other without ever touching. Like Ms. Perez and Billy from Maintenance: both head over heels for each other, but too timid to break from their parallel lines to intersect. That’s where I come in. When nature needs a little push, I find ways to increase their proximity or highlight their similarities. I affectionately dub this process finding the greatest common factor. 

So, what is the greatest common factor between Ms. Perez and Billy from Maintenance? Might they chance upon each other in the school hallways? Perhaps. Could they meet in a salsa club they both frequent? Maybe. Perchance they go grocery shopping at the same farmers’ market at the same time. Less likely, but possible. But, what is guaranteed to draw them together? 

Of course, a maintenance problem in a certain Spanish classroom. 

So, early the next morning, before any other teachers arrive, I stand on Ms. Perez’s desk, unscrewing a fluorescent tube light just enough to flicker obnoxiously. Three knocks alerts me that someone is coming down the hall, spiking my heart rate a little. Of course, I could just tell anyone who questions me the truth: it’s not like I’m harming anyone or damaging any property, but some people are put off by my matchmaking behaviors and, if Ms. Perez found me, my plan would be a bust. 

So, I quickly replace the light’s cover and jump off the desk. I listen for a moment at the door and peek out the frosted window, trying to determine if the coast is clear. Nothing. I knock once, but get no response. Hopefully that means Mr. Wright is stalling whoever is coming further down the hall. I slide open the door as quietly as I can and peer around the corner. Two figures about a dozen yards from me give me pause, particularly considering that neither of them are Mr. Wright, who was keeping look out for me. Where did he go?!

I recognize both faculty easily: Principal Peeters and the pretty new English teacher. The woman is facing away from me and Peeters hasn’t seemed to notice me yet. He asks her something about how she is settling into her new job, and I deem him sufficiently distracted. I lock the room from the inside, dip out of the classroom as calmly and quietly as I can, and turn down the first hallway. Then I wait, listening to see if anyone follows me. 

A slow smile spreads across my face as I hear Peeters’ uninterrupted conversation. Looks like he either didn’t see me or think much of it. Once my heart rate returns to a normal level from my exhilarating mini mission, I notice he’s actually talking quite loudly. I don’t pick up what the teacher says in return, but Peeters’ voice carries clearly as he reminds the newbie to come to his office if she has any problems in the future.

I frown, wishing I could hear her responses. Did something happen to bother her? I’m torn between curiosity and finding where in the world Mr. Wright ran off to. I supposed I can always give him a stern talking to about abandoning a partner in crime later. Making my choice, I step into the hallway I just came from, walking straight towards the pair of educators. 

“Principal Peeters!” I call, waving slightly to grab his attention. 

Oddly, he grimaces at me. 

“Hello, Mei,” he responds through too thin lips. “Well, I better get to my office. Nice chatting with you,” he says to the other teacher. 

“Wait,” I halt him, confused by his cold behavior. Is he upset with me for some reason? “How’s Mr. Johanson doing?” When he doesn’t immediately respond, I start to worry. “You guys are still together, right?”

“He’s fine,” is all I get in response. “I really have a lot of paperwork to attend to. Let’s talk later, M– Ms. Huang.”

“Alright,” I say in a daze, but he is already gone. Well, that was really weird. 

“What did you do to get on his bad side?” the teacher whispers. 

I blink, turning to the beauty beside me. Up close, I can appreciate her soft features and flawless skin better. God, I hope she is single and looking. 

“Um, I have no idea,” I answer honestly. I shake my head and then remember my manners. “I’m Ms. Huang,” I say, extending my hand to her. “You must be one of the new English teachers.”

“Evelyn Hart,” she smiles at me sweetly, looking like a total angel. She shakes my hand, her own ridiculously soft. “What do you teach?”

“Precalculus. Eleventh grade. You?”

“Also eleventh. Advanced placement and standard.” 

“Wow, first year and you’re already teaching AP. I heard they overhauled the department over the summer, but what a great opportunity. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I actually have a couple years of experience in Charleston, but I’m really grateful I could walk right into a senior position here.”

Grateful? What a total sweetheart! The phrasing strikes me as distinctly religious. Maybe she’s Christian? We are in the Bible belt, so it’s not uncommon, particularly in small suburbs like ours, but…

“Charleston? What’s a big city girl like you doing here?” 

“To be honest?” She bites her lip. “Escaping my psycho ex.” 

My eyebrows shoot all the way up as she just hands me the most juicy piece of information ever. 

“Well, I’m sorry you must be having a hard time, but I’m glad you found your way here.”

“That’s really nice of you to say.” She smooths her wheat-colored hair behind one ear, smiling softly at me.

“I know it can be difficult moving to a new place, so if there is anything I can do, any… problems you encounter… don’t hesitate to ask. I know most all of the faculty.”

She laughs softly. “Principal Peeters said almost the exact same thing.”

I know. “Well, he is a really nice guy.”

“When he’s not bent out of shape?” she smirks. 

“Yeah, not sure what was up with that.”

“Maybe he didn’t like being outed to the new teacher?” she says pointing at herself. 

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Peeters is pretty open…” I bite my lip and then lean in closer to her. “I introduced him to his boyfriend last year after he came out, but I haven’t talked to either of them all summer. Maybe they broke up?” I mumble. 

That would be unfortunate. My couples, particularly adult ones, don’t usually break up, but it is the only reason for why he was uncomfortable around me that I can imagine. Ms. Hart gazes at the spot where the principal disappeared, a sort of sad look on her face. “I’m sorry he’s taking it out on you, but I know first hand how heartbreak can make you lash out at people around you. I’m sorry.” 

My heart throbs at her words, the truth of them cutting me deeper than I expect, unearthing feelings I thought were long buried. That’s when I decide right then and there, I like her. Empathetic. Honest. Sweet. Beautiful inside and out. Perfect for my handsome orchestra teacher. 

“Well, it’s just speculation,” I qualify. “More than likely I’m taking his behavior too personally, and he just had a bout of indigestion.” 

She laughs. Yes, I think we could get along very well. 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but some of us teachers go out on Friday night for drinks. You should come,” I tell her. 

“Well, I don’t drink, but I would love to hang out. Make sure everyone gets home safe.”

“That’s good, considering Mei’s tolerance is shit.” Mr. Wright’s voice coming from behind startles me. Where did he come from? No. Where did he go to begin with?

I whip around to face the traitor, trying to look as angry as possible. Of course, he’s completely calm, a lazy smirk on his face. 

“Well, at least I know my new friend won’t abandon me in my time of need,” I grit. “Unlike some people.”

His smirk grows wider. No shame, I swear. 

“Hi,” he holds out his hand to the other teacher, crossing in front of me. “I’m Thaddeus: Mei’s unreliable friend. And you?”

“This is Evelyn Hart,” I introduce. “She’s from Charleston, teaches eleventh grade English, and is an absolute angel.” 

“Clearly,” he drags her eyes down her, causing her to blush. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Thaddeus,” she says, taking his hand. 

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

I suppress a smile at his flirtatious behavior. Time for me to dip. 

“Well, I have a few things to prepare before first period. Have lunch with us, Ms. Hart?”

“Sure,” she says at the same time Mr. Wright says: 

“What could you possibly have to prepare, Miss ‘I write all my lesson plans a year in advance’?” 

I frown. Is he trying to stop me from leaving? “I need to personalize the lessons for each class. I’ll see you later.”

I give a meaningful look to Mr. Wright, trying to communicate to him something along the lines of “get to know her”. He inspects me in return, squinting slightly as if trying to decide my motivations. Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, and Mr. Wright knows me pretty well already. If he doesn’t like her, he can very easily just ignore my scheming. 

That must not be the case, as his eyes soften a little and he nods slightly. Is he finally taking the bait? He’s always friendly, borderline flirtatious, with the potential matches I’ve introduced him to in the past, but nothing ever sticks. Common factors between them were just too low, but this time, I’m closer to Mr. Wright than ever before. I just need to befriend Ms. Hart too and then, though me, increase their proximity. The only thing left to be seen is if they have more similarities than just good looks and friendly personalities. 

“She’s a middle child of five siblings, enjoys reading (obviously), poetry slams, folk and classical music, plays the piano poorly–her words, not mine–and has a three-year-old son.” Mr. Wright tells me on the way to the teacher’s lounge. 

“Wow, you got all that just talking with her in the hallway after I left?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m quite good at gathering intel.”

“Gathering intel?” a man says from behind me. “What are you up to this year, Ms. Huang?”

I spin around to see Principal Peeters smiling at me, no trace of his agitation from this morning. “It’s nice to see you again, sir,” I say politely, just to be safe. 

“It feels like it’s been ages!” 

Ages? I just saw him this morning. 

“We have so much to catch up on,” he continues, friendly as ever. “I thought you might be interested to know, Benji and I moved in together over the summer. It’s like a dream, all thanks to you.” 

So… he isn’t having relationship problems? Maybe he really did have indigestion. “I’m so glad!” I say, a little astonished, but mostly happy. “I was worried when you looked so upset this morning that something may have happened.”

“Upset? Oh, you must have just seen me before my morning coffee. You know how I am before my daily dose of caffeine.” 

Ah, I should have known. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Principal Peeters before he’s had his morning coffee, but he is a bit of an addict. “That’s a relief. Congratulations on the move.”

“It’s actually still pretty new, just last week. I’m thinking of having a housewarming party once we are settled, and, of course, you’ll both be invited.” He looks between Mr. Wright and me expectantly. 

Since Mr. Wright is being uncharacteristically quiet throughout this whole conversation, I take the lead, “That would be wonderful, thank you. Are you heading to lunch?”

“Ah, no. I was just doing the rounds to classrooms when I saw you and couldn’t resist saying hi.”

I nod and we exchange goodbyes, Mr. Wright mumbling something like, “See you then.”

“You’re acting weird,” I say matter-of-factly once we resume walking to the lounge. 

“Am I?”

“Yes, almost… guilty,” I decide. “Are you finally regaining your conscience after abandoning me to Principal Peeters and Ms. Hart this morning?”

He scoffs, “As if. From my perspective, I warned you just in time. Don’t blame me if I don’t want to be implicated in your harebrained schemes by being spotted loitering outside a random classroom.” 

“Then why do you keep volunteering?” I tease lightly. 

“Call it eldritch induced insanity, akin to worshiping Cthulhu.”

 “Cathu-what?”

“Cthulhu. You know, the horrifying sea god that drives unlucky white men who seek to understand it insane?”

“Are you comparing me to a sea monster?”

“More comparing your plans to a sea monster. All those tentacles trapping unwary souls. Which would make you Lovecraft. Fitting name now that I think about it.”

“Lovecraft?” I am beyond lost at this point. 

“Yeah, an American writer, but despite his name and unlike you, my dear Ms. Huang–” He boops my nose, causing me to recoil slightly. “–he wrote horror, not romance.”

Romance. Writer. Books. Greatest common factor! 

“I didn’t know you liked reading,” I say excitedly, completely distracted from his random reference. 

“I like a lot of things.”

“Huh uh, like classical music and kids,” I smirk knowingly. 

He stops abruptly in the hallway, narrowing his eyes on me. “This ground doesn’t have 300 taels of silver.” 

I blink in surprise at the obscure reference to Chinese literature. Apparently he thinks I’m not discrete enough in my intentions. “Am I really being that obvious?”

“Well, at first, I thought you just wanted me to scope out the fresh meat, but now I realize–”

“Fine! I admit it!” I raise my hands up in a surrendering gesture. “You got me, but you’ve got to admit: she’s pretty.”

He grunts in response, but it’s not a disagreement, so I’ll count that as a win.

“Come on, let’s hurry. I want to ask Ms. Perez how her encounter with Billy went.”

“And I guess we can’t be late for meeting up with Ms. Hart,” he grumbles. 

I laugh at his pouting. “That’s the spirit!”