Chapter Text
“You have nine minutes left to finish your paper—for the love of God, Mr. Maximoff. Stop biting your pen.”
In her years of teaching, Agatha had developed a private catalog of student types.
There were the brilliant ones who treated her class as a stepping stone on their way to ivy leagues. There were also the quieter students who are not necessarily exceptional, but not troublesome either. These kids were just steady enough to pass through high school without leaving much behind except decent grades and polite nods in hallways.
And of course, there were the pen-biters. Far too many pen-biters.
Every year without fail, at least a handful of students gnawed on writing utensils as though chewing hard enough might produce an argument for their essay.
Tommy Maximoff being one of them, who finally obeyed after her warning, lowering the poor abused pen and putting it to actual use. Around him, the rest of the class bent lower over their papers, the room filling with frantic scratching as twenty-something students attempts to handwrite seven hundred words in fifteen minutes.
A skill they should already possess, frankly.
If someone enrolled in AP English without a rough instinct for word count by sight alone, Agatha considered that a personal gamble on their part. Granted, it was technically her job to make things easier, but she knows exactly when a student was struggling versus when they were simply hoping she’d lower the bar.
She moves seamlessly between rows, her hands clasped behind her back while her heels clicked against the floor, glancing over shoulders as she passed by. The classroom felt oddly spacious today, with several chairs being notably unoccupied.
The absence did not surprise her at all. Nearly a third of the class was missing, and Agatha knew exactly where they were.
She also knew why they're not here in her class joining the rest of their peers in writing essays under Agatha’s wrath—no, Agatha’s guidance.
Unless someone had suddenly developed a medically fascinating condition involving synchronized lateness, none of them would be getting a pass for it.
As if summoned by nothing more than her patience wearing thin, the classroom door flies open. A small cluster of students stumbles into view, all looking disheveled.
Agatha lifts a brow as they approach. Billy, the other half of the Maximoff twins, takes the lead clearly by default. “Ms. Harkness, we are so sorry for being late.” He starts while catching his breath. “Ms. Vidal had us working on this activity, and we didn’t realize the time—”
He keeps talking while Agatha stops listening. She doesn’t need the full explanation. She got everything she needed the moment he said the name.
Ms. Vidal.
Of course it has to be that woman. The irritation quickly settles in, blooming quietly in her chest at the thought of Westview High’s most known biology teacher—Rio Vidal.
Agatha couldn’t care less about her fellow faculty members, but Rio.. well, Rio made quite the impression.
She remembers the day they met with perfect clarity.
It was before the semester started, during one of those painfully long orientations. The entire high school department gathered into the gym while Principal Harkness, the ever delightful head of this institution—droned on about increased workload, “student engagement,” and other unnecessary topics made to prolong everyone’s suffering.
Agatha lasted four minutes. Five, if she was being generous.
She stood up from her seat, ignored the pointed look from the front, and excused herself before she said something that would get her into trouble before the school year even began.
The hallway outside was blissfully quiet. Agatha took it in while it lasted, fully aware it was on borrowed time before the students arrive to dismantle it completely.
She passed the gym wing, nearing the end of the hall where a supply room sat. It’s mostly cleaning stuff such as mops and waxes, the kind no one thinks about twice.
Which is why the noise coming from inside made her pause.
That was.. odd.
Agatha slowed and pressed her ears against the door, her brows knit slightly as the sound intensified now that she’s closer. She can’t make anything out of it except for the screaming being unmistakably human.
That was inconvenient for her, who does have a general preference of not getting involved in other people’s problems. But if someone was actively being murdered in a supply closet, it would be terribly awkward to ignore.
With a sigh that suggested she already resented this, she stepped forward and pushed the door open.. and immediately wished she hadn’t.
“Yeah right there, fuck yes—”
Oh.. Oh.
Agatha slammed the door shut with impressive speed, staring straight ahead hoping that if she didn’t move, reality might rewind itself. It did not, of course. She would very much like to soap her eyes, possibly her entire brain, to remove the image out of her system.
A woman with dark, wavy hair was pressed against the wall. Her fingers were threaded tight in another woman’s hair who was conveniently in her knees. Agatha didn’t recognize the one against the wall.The one kneeling, however, was none other than the quirky Carol Danvers from finance.
Look—Agatha did not care what the faculty did in their personal time. She is not one to judge either for whatever sexual escapades they engage in but a supply room? At school? During orientation?
How low can you possibly get?
With a disgusted exhale, she turned and walked back toward the gym. She decided that whatever fresh hell awaited there could not possibly rival what she’d just witnessed.
The assistant principal, Lilia, had taken over the stage as she clicks through the academic calendar. Agatha sank into a chair in the back row and with zero guilt, she pulled out her phone. She opens safari and goes straight to wordle.
She was midway through a particularly move involving vital vowels when the chair beside her shifted. Agatha didn’t look up at first but she noticed a familiar navy blue slacks so she raised her head.
Siting next to her with a bright facial expression was the same woman from the storage room, hence she recognized the clothing.
Fucking hell.
“Hi!” The woman greets her with a toothy grin. “I’m Rio Vidal. I’m new here.”
She even extended a hand while Agatha simply stared at it. God only knew where that hand had been in the last ten minutes and there is no way she’d touch that voluntarily.
“Agatha.” She replied flatly, barely hiding the disgust in her face.
Rio’s hand lingered for half a second too long before she let it drop, recovering with that same effortless smile. “Nice to meet you, Agatha. What subject do you teach?”
Agatha’s attention had already returned to her phone, her not so subtle way of saying she doesn’t want to engage in a conversation. “AP english.”
Rio remained oblivious. “Oh, that’s amazing. I teach biology. How long have you been here?”
Agatha didn’t look up as muttered, “Frankly, your questions do not interest me.”
Rio placed a hand over her chest in mock offense. “Ouch! You wound me.”
Agatha flicked her eyes up, unimpressed. “Do I?”
“I was just trying to build rapport.” Rio shrugged, but she was still smiling like this was all part of the plan. “But okay. Message received.”
“Try building it with someone else.” Agatha replied, already standing. “And next time, lock the door before you do anything extracurricular.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Rio’s face but it fades almost as soon as it appears, replaced by something far too composed for someone who’s just been caught red-handed. If anything, she looks unbothered.
It’s certainly not the reaction Agatha was hoping for.
There’s no embarrassment nor an attempt to explain. Rio doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest, which is the most irritating part of all.
Before she can fully leave, she stops in her tracks at the sound of Rio calling her name, the syllables catching just enough to pull her back despite every intention to keep walking. “Agatha?”
“Yes?”
Rio leans back in her chair, completely at ease. “Guapa.” She mutters, the word rolling off her tongue with that same infuriating ease.
Agatha’s expression doesn’t change, but her eyes narrow just slightly. “Excuse you?”
“Pretty.” Rio clarifies, as if the translation is necessary.
Agatha stares at her in disbelief. She knows what guapa means. She also knows what pretty means. “Are you trying to flatter me?” She asks, her tone dry enough to sand wood.
“Well, not really.” Rio shrugs again before adding, “It’s today’s wordle. Thought I’d help you out in case you were struggling to find the word.”
Agatha lets out a quiet breath through her nose, something dangerously close to a laugh if it weren’t so restrained. “What an incredibly generous use of your time.”
Rio doesn’t say anything more, except she did a teasing salute in Agatha’s direction before shifting back in her seat. She turns her attention toward the speaker at the front, not bothering to spare Agatha another glance.
Agatha turns on her heel again, already walking away before she can say something else. She’s pissed that she’s going to have to open wordle later and pretend she doesn’t know the answer.
Which she thought is the worst part—except it isn’t, because later, when she finally opens the site with every intention of salvaging what little dignity remains, she types the word pretty, only to pause as something about it feels.. off.
Her gaze remain steady on the screen, her brows pulling together slightly as the realization settles in. Six letters. Pretty has six letters.
Rio didn’t spoil it—she tricked her.
She sets the phone down with grace, because reacting any stronger than that would only validate the situation further. Agatha Harkness does not lose composure over something as trivial as a word game, even if the said word game has just been weaponized against her.
“Unbelievable.” She whispered, more directed at herself than anything else. Because really, the offense here isn’t even Rio—it’s that Agatha easily fell for it.
From that day on, Agatha decides on exactly two things. First, she will personally burn her english degree for failing her. And second, she truly, genuinely does not like Rio Vidal.
Ever since that unfortunate introduction two months ago, Agatha and Rio’s professional relationship has existed in a state best described as barely tolerable. Fate, in all its cruelty, has seen fit to assign Rio the cubicle directly adjacent to Agatha’s.
Rio really does smile every time she sees Agatha, always attempting to start a conversation even when Agatha pointedly refuses to engage. She offers nothing more than silence or, at best, a look that should have discouraged anyone else by now.
Rio doesn’t stop at her overly friendly persona. Without fail, she greets Agatha with some variation of a wordle spoiler.
“Today’s wordle is honey.” She’ll say one morning, entirely too casually.
Or, “I’m pretty sure it’s tongue.”
Or worse—“Have you tried pheromones?”
And every single time, Agatha ironically falls for it.
Not immediately, of course. Agatha does not blindly trust anyone, least of all Rio Vidal. There is always a moment where she considers the possibility of deception. Then, like a fool—she types whatever suggested word Rio gave anyway only to realize seconds later that the word is either the wrong length or wildly incorrect.
Naturally, she attempts to adapt with the impending spoilers. She begins opening wordle first thing in the morning, solving it with ruthless efficiency before Rio even has the chance to ruin it for her.
This worked for exactly three days.
On the fourth, Rio appeared in the faculty room doorway with coffee in hand and a grin that is suspiciously bright.
“Done your wordle yet?” She asked.
Agatha doesn’t even look up. “Yes.”
Rio hummed as she stepped inside. “Shame. I was going to tell you the answer.”
“I’m aware.” Agatha replies flatly.
Rio nods. “Who would have thought of truck? I honestly came up with track and trick before that.”
Agatha stills at her desk, and that alone is enough for Rio to notice immediately. “Oh my God.” Rio breathes, delighted, “You didn’t—”
“I did not.” Agatha cuts in immediately. “You spoiled it. Again.”
Rio laughs and that was perhaps the most irritating sound Agatha has ever heard.
From that point forward, it becomes a game. Rio throws out words like bait and she’s not even consistent with it. Sometimes she lies and sometimes she tells the truth which means Agatha can never fully ignore her.
This also means Rio has, somehow successfully embedded herself into Agatha’s daily routine through nothing but nonsense and audacity.
Other than her infuriating habit of spoiling things unprovoked, there’s also the matter of her reputation—Rio Vidal has established herself as Westview High’s resident womanizer in record time.
Agatha doesn’t get it. What exactly is the appeal about her? The toothy grin? Her academic intelligence? The complete lack of shame?
It’s baffling, truly, but Agatha makes a conscious effort not to dwell on it. She doesn’t care what Rio is or what she does.
However, one of the things Rio does that directly affects Agatha is her schedule. Specifically, the fact that she teaches biology right before one of Agatha’s classes, sharing several of the same students who walk in from Rio’s room and into hers.
More often than not, Agatha’s students come in late. They are usually breathless from rushing up flights of stairs, armed with flimsy excuses that differ in wording but somehow always circle back to the same person.
Rio Vidal.
Again, Agatha doesn’t concern herself with what other faculty members do. That includes what they do in their own teaching time but the moment it starts interfering with her own class, perhaps a conversation is necessary even if it is the last thing she wants to endure.
“Stop.” Agatha raises a single finger, and only then does Billy finally stop talking.
She makes a show of glancing at her wrist watch. “If I were you, I’d get started. You only have five minutes left to complete what’s written on the board.”
There’s a collective pause followed by their synchronized panic.
“But, Ms. Harkness..” Kamala tries, already halfway to pleading, “Could we maybe get an extension? We were held up in Ms. Vidal’s class—”
“Next time you can suggest Ms. Vidal invest in a clock.” Agatha cuts in smoothly. “So she knows when to end her class and you’d know when to arrive on time to mine.”
She smiles then claps her hands once, “Four minutes!”
The room erupts into frantic motion. The late students move with desperate urgency, scrambling to produce something within the rapidly shrinking window.
Agatha watches them for exactly three seconds before turning away, entirely unmoved.
Later that night, as she grades, she loses count of how many times she has to either pinch the bridge of her nose or massage her temple before writing yet another failing mark across a half-empty page.
She has no one to blame except Rio fucking Vidal and her biology fucking class.
“The faculty is gathering at Ko-Ven this friday for a trivia night.” Jen informs her as they walk side by side. “Are you planning on joining us, or are you going to pretend you have better things to do again?”
Jennifer Kale had started teaching the same year Agatha did. They shared over a decade of staff meetings and conversations that never quite crossed into anything resembling friendship outside of the workplace.
Jen was, at best, tolerable. She’s the only one who can match Agatha’s mean tongue, always ready with something sharp to throw back at her, never quite backing down and never running out of ways to push right back.
“No, I have far better ways to spend my evening than subjecting myself with you nerds.”
“We’re proud of being nerds, thank you very much.” Jen rolls her eyes at the dig. “I was told to invite you, which is the only reason I’m even asking. If it were up to me, I’d very happily leave you out of it.”
“Are you afraid I’ll be too good at it and it’ll make every single one of you look stupid? ” Agatha questions as they come to a stop just outside the faculty room.
“You’re so full of yourself, aren’t you?” Jen’s voice is laced with sarcasm as she turns toward the stairs without waiting for a reply. “Hope I don’t see you again today.”
“Same here!” Agatha pushes open the door, already bracing herself for noise but surprisingly, she met with none of it.
At ten in the morning, most of the staff are occupied. They are buried in their classes doing what they’re paid to do. Agatha, however, has a free period.
A rare and fleeting mercy.
She walks toward her cubicle, dropping a stack of ungraded papers onto the desk. She hurriedly lowers herself into her chair as she reaches for a small mirror.
She studies her reflection for a brief moment before pulling her hair loose from its ponytail. Dark curls fall over her shoulders, and she runs her fingers through them to undo the tightness and allow herself to relax—
“Hola, guapa.”
Agatha jerks violently in her seat, nearly knocking her chair back. “Jesus Christ!” she snaps, hand flying to her chest as her pulse spikes in immediate irritation.
A head rises from the cubicle in front of hers and Rio peeks looking entirely too pleased with herself. “It’s Rio, actually.”
Agatha forces her composure back into place, jaw tightening as she shoots Rio a glare.
“Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” Rio replies easily, pushing herself up from her chair with a folded lab coat tucked under her arm. “It’s not my fault you didn’t notice me.”
“Forgive me for not actively searching for you in every room I enter.”
Rio doesn’t miss a beat. “No worries. You’re forgiven.”
What an asshole.
Rio’s expression shift as she says, “Actually, now that you’re here, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I already did my wordle. You don’t have to spoil it yet again.”
“It’s not about that, although I’m glad to hear you figured it was haunting.” The word is definitely not haunting. “But uh.. well, I wanted to apologize for your students being late. It has come to my attention that I’ve been running over, and I know that cuts into your class time.”
Agatha keeps her expression neutral even though she’s glad that this is saving her the trouble of initiating the conversation herself. “I’d appreciate it if you were more mindful of that moving forward.” She says coolly.
“I would be.” Rio nods once then adds, almost too casually, “But we’re teachers, after all. I’m acknowledging my mistake, and I hope you’d also realize that a little consideration wouldn’t hurt.”
Agatha’s ears prick at that. There it is. Their students must have told her how Agatha would never give them consideration or even extra time extensions when they’re late to her class.
She rises slowly from her chair, meeting Rio at eye level. “You have a point. It’s just not a good one.”
Rio smiles, as if challenging Agatha. “How so?”
“As a teacher, you should understand the importance of time management. I cannot possibly be unfair to my other students who arrived early by giving those who arrive late a pass.” She explains. “I’m not unreasonable. I extend compassion when it’s warranted.”
“It is warranted.” Rio insists, holding her ground. “We’ve had a lot to cover. Labs take time, and sometimes it just—”
“Then adjust your lesson plan.” Agatha cuts in. “If you can’t fit it into the time allotted, that sounds less like a scheduling issue and more like a skill issue.”
Rio presses her tongue briefly to the inside of her cheek while Agatha refuses to blink.
They hold each other’s gaze longer than polite—until Rio finally exhales, a small smile returning as if she’s decided something. “Okay, Agatha.” She utters. “I hear you. I’ll keep it in mind. Every note taken, every concern acknowledged.”
“As you should.”
Agatha is already sitting back down, attention shifting to the papers on her desk. She hears Rio from the other side before the sound of movement follows.
She doesn’t look up to see Rio leaving, but she feels the shift in the room at the thought of not having her around. She cannot endure another minute with that woman.
The door opens and Agatha breathes in relief however, it shuts again as footsteps rush back in.
“Tell her I’m not here.” She overhears Rio says quickly, already ducking down into her cubicle.
Agatha’s brows knit as she finally looks up from her laptop. “What?”
The door sits directly in her line of sight meaning anyone who walks in sees her first. Rio, tucked further on the other side, is conveniently out of view unless someone actually steps inside.
Pathetic.
Before Rio can explain further, there’s a knock then the door eventually opens.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Harkness.”
Agatha finds a younger teacher standing at the doorway—Daphne, if she remembers correctly. She’s one of the newer hires and she’s not from this faculty room which means Agatha doesn’t bother to know her beyond a passing glance.
She looks around, almost hopeful. “Uh.. Is Ms. Vidal around?”
That should explain everything.
Agatha’s eyes flick briefly toward Rio’s cubicle. From where she sits, she can just catch the top of Rio’s head as she crouches low, clearly committed to whatever ridiculous hiding attempt this is.
Whatever Rio is trying to avoid is definitely not Agatha’s problem.
“Actually..” She starts, smooth as ever. “She is.”
From the other side comes a muffled, betrayed, “Damn it—”
Agatha ignores it. “Ms. Vidal, someone’s looking for you.”
There’s a pause before Rio slowly rises into view, looking like she’s reconsidering every life decision that led her here. She secretly glares at Agatha who manages to taunt her by smirking in return.
Rio exhales through her nose before turning, all charm snapping back into place as she faces the door. “Daphne.” She greets easily, as if she hadn’t just been hiding from the woman a few minutes ago. “What can I do for you?”
Agatha watches Rio and Daphne in passing, careful enough not to make it obvious but observant enough to catch the moment Rio’s hands settle briefly at Daphne’s waist as she guides her out of the room. She steers her toward somewhere quieter, someplace away from the reach of Agatha’s judging ears.
She rolls her eyes at herself almost instantly, as if annoyed that she even noticed what they were doing or that, knowing Rio and her reputation, her mind had immediately filled in what they were probably about to do.
She doesn’t think much of it after that, simply turning back to what she was doing as though the thought itself is beneath her attention.
A week passes by and to Rio’s credit, she surprisingly held up her end of things. Agatha’s students have been arriving on time. Early, at that. Billy, for instance, has taken to sitting in the front row before Agatha even steps into the room.
Agatha appreciates it although she refused to give complete credit to Rio. She believes it’s basic decency, something Rio lacks entirely. For the most part, at least.
If the faculty whispers are anything to go by, Rio has been making her rounds. Daphne apparently lasted all of a few days before being replaced by Kayla, the school nurse.
There is nothing particularly remarkable about Rio and yet for reasons beyond logic, the entire schools seems enamored with her despite the reputation.
All except her.
“Hola, guapa.”
Agatha doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. There is exactly one person in this entire school who carries the audacity to greet her like that.
Agatha continues sorting through the cupboard in front of her as if the voice behind her is nothing more than ambient noise. She sorts through the drawer because somewhere in here is a box of red markers Lilia insisted she “definitely put back,” which is code for someone moved it and now it is Agatha’s problem.
She can her Rio sighing dramatically. “No hello? No acknowledgment? Nada?”
Agatha doesn’t look back. “You’ll survive.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Rio continues as she steps closer. The faint rustle of her lab coat and the soft tap of her heels gives her away even without sight. “This is emotional neglect at this point.”
That earns her nothing but silence, but Rio doesn’t seem discouraged in the slightest.
“What’s your problem with me, anyway?” She asks, her tone balanced with a hint of teasing and something more curious underneath. “You don’t like me or something?”
Agatha pauses mid-reach, then lets out an incredulous chuckle without fully turning around, because the question itself is almost insulting in its simplicity.
She finally glances over her shoulder, just enough to see Rio leaning casually against the nearby counter. Her hair is clipped up while a few loose strands frame her face, softening the expression that is otherwise entirely too amused for this conversation.
“I just don’t think we’re.. compatible.”
“Compatible how, exactly?” Rio’s forehead creases. “I’m asking in good faith, I just get the feeling you’ve already sentenced me without a trial.”
“There’s a trial.” Agatha points out. “You can’t expect me to like you when all you do is ruin my wordle and make students late to my class.”
“Hey, they’re coming in early now!” Rio protests immediately. “And not ruin, no. I’m actually trying to help.”
Agatha didn’t mind her, though another thought begins to form and before she can properly stop herself, it slips out into the open air. “You’re also a womanizer.”
For a brief moment, even Agatha seems mildly surprised she actually said it.
Rio’s mouth goes slightly agape for a second, clearly caught off guard. Eventually, she finds her footing again. Her expression shifts as she processes the accusation and steadies herself enough to respond.
“Oh?” She mumbles. “Is that your issue, Agatha? Or are you secretly asking if you’d qualify?”
Agatha blinks once. She cannot believe what she just heard hence she nearly forgets to be offended. “What?”
Rio leans back slightly against the counter, looking far too smug yet again. “I’m just saying if I’m a womanizer.. does that mean you want to be one of my women?”
The silence that follows is immediate. Agatha can almost physically feel the heat spreading across her cheeks with humiliating speed. She straightens her stance instinctively.
“No.” She grits her teeth. “Absolutely not.”
Rio’s smile only deepens, “If you say so..” She replies simply, though her tone makes it sound like she doesn’t entirely believe it.
Agatha turns back to the cupboard as if the markers have suddenly become a matter of life and death, because looking at Rio any longer feels like a mistake she is actively trying to avoid making twice.
“Where the fuck is it?”
“What are you looking for anyway?"
“Red markers.”
Agatha is too focused on looking for it that she fails to realize Rio has moved behind her, or that she’s now standing far closer than she was a moment ago.
She only notices when she catches sight of Rio’s arms reaching up toward the top shelf, casually stretching to grab what Agatha couldn’t. Irritation flares at the thought of letting Rio “help” her. She’s already preparing a remark so she turns back abruptly to stop her.
But Rio in that same moment happens to be looking down as she adjusts her grip on the box, and the timing is disastrously off.
Their movements align just enough that Agatha’s words die before they even form properly, the space between them closing in an instant as her lips meet Rio’s own.
Agatha freezes, breath catching sharply as she pulls her head back instantly. Rio on the other hand is clearly caught in the same moment but recovering in a different way.
“I wasn’t trying to I swear—” She starts to explain, anxiously rubbing the back of her neck. “I was looking down.”
“Were you?” Agatha asks, though she already knows Rio is telling the truth.
“I’m not trying to make a move on you, Agatha.” She deadpans, as if the clarification should be obvious. “It was an accident.”
Agatha’s fingers lift to her lips unconsciously, as though she’s trying to confirm it actually happened. It happened and it’s real. She really just shared a kiss with Rio Vidal.
Not less than a smack, yes—but still undeniably a kiss.
They’re still standing far too close. They’re close enough that Agatha can feel the faint warmth radiating off Rio’s body, something irritatingly distracting about how little space exists between them now.
Neither of them moves right away, as if both are quietly recalibrating the situation.
“Agatha..” Rio speaks first but Agatha gasps a little when she becomes abruptly aware of something pressing against her thigh from Rio’s position.
Oh.. oh.
“Fuck.” Rio exclaims in surprise, voice tight in a way Agatha hasn’t heard before. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Rio steps back quickly as if distance itself is the only thing that can fix what just happened, her hands lifting in reflexive apology. “No—no, that wasn’t—this isn’t what it looks like.”
Agatha watches her for a second longer than she intends to, because Rio looks genuinely thrown off now, the usual confidence cracked just slightly at the edges.
Rio clears her throat, grabbing the box of markers again. “I’m sorry.” She adds, quieter this time. “I didn’t mean to.”
Agatha’s gaze flicks to Rio’s face, then away, then back again. She smiles in amusement before speaking. “What was it you said earlier?” She inquires, placing her hand under her chin. “About me wanting to be one of your women?”
“Dear God..” Rio mutters, clearly mortified now. “Don’t.”
Agatha ignores her entirely as she grabs the box from Rio before stepping away. “I think it might be the other way around..”
Rio drags a hand down her face. “Agathaaaa—”
“There wasn’t even touching involved, hon.” She mocks. “Is my mere presence doing this to you?” She once again glances at the visible strain in Rio’s pants.
“That’s not what this is.” Rio insists, and for the first time since Agatha has known her, she actually sounds flustered. “It’s just.. just, you know!”
“Sure.” Agatha smoothly turns over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to whatever this is then.”
A pause follows, heavy with everything neither of them is willing to address properly.
Then, just before she fully exits the room, she adds because she clearly can’t help herself “I won’t be of any help with that.” Agatha makes a show of gesturing at Rio’s middle. “Unlike some people, I have the decency not to conduct extracurricular activities on school grounds.”
And then she walks out, leaving behind a speechless (and most likely, semi-hard) Rio Vidal.
The next day, Agatha spots them before they spot her.
Rio is walking down the hallway with yet another woman beside her. Faculty, from the looks of it. The woman is laughing at something Rio said, head tilted just slightly toward her while her hands casually ghosts over Rio’s arm.
Agatha doesn’t slow her pace as they approach each other, though her eyes linger just long enough to assess the situation. When they cross paths, Agatha being Agatha—she does not let it go easily.
“New one?” She questions, not even bothering to mask the judgment in her tone as she glances between Rio and the woman beside her.
The woman blinks, slightly caught off guard while Rio on the other hand forces a tight smile.
“Good morning to you too.” Rio replies slyly. “Wonderful day, isn’t it, Ms. Harkness?”
Agatha ignores the greeting nor the poor attempt at small talk. “You do move quickly which reminds, how’s Daphne, by the way?”
For the briefest second, Rio’s smile twitches, just enough to suggest she knows exactly what Agatha is implying. “I wouldn’t know, unfortunately. I haven’t seen her in awhile.”
“What a shame.”
The woman beside Rio clears her throat awkwardly, suddenly very interested in the floor.
“Anyway..” Rio continues, glancing briefly at the woman before looking back at Agatha, “We were just discussing lab schedules. Nothing scandalous, in case you were worried.”
“I wasn’t.”
Although, a traitorous part of her mind does briefly wonder if Rio meeting this woman yesterday meant she had resolved whatever situation Agatha may or may not have indirectly contributed to.
In other words, did she help with Rio’s blue balls?
Rio hums. “Mhm.. Of course not.” She glances at her companion and adds, “I’ll catch up with you later?”
The woman simply nods and walks off, leaving Rio alone with Agatha in the hallway.
A mistake. For both of them, fairly.
Rio turns back to her, arms folding loosely as she studies Agatha with that same infuriating calm.“Are you keeping track of who I’m seeing?”
Agatha lets out a soft chuckle, “Bold of you to assume I even think of you in my spare time, let alone track your social calendar.” With a faint lift of her brow, she adds, “Let’s just say students talk. Faculty, even more so.”
“They talk too much.”
“Then give them less material.”
“And where would the fun be in that?” Then Rio grins, as though she remembers something. “By the way, today’s wordle is charm.”
“Don’t.” Agatha glares at her. “Do not start with that again.”
Rio lifts her hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m helping.”
“You’ve never helped a day in your life.”
“That’s not true.” Rio counters, grin widening. “I’ve been very helpful with your wordles. You just don’t appreciate it.”
Agatha massages her temple for a brief second before dropping her hand again. “Do you derive actual joy from this?”
Rio beams. “Kinda. It’s been really fun seeing you squirm.”
Rio’s been toying with Agatha for as long as they’ve known each other, and she’s finally had enough of it.
“You know what..” Agatha looks at her dead in the eye that signals something deeply unwell is about to be said. “I genuinely hope you get one of your women pregnant.”
Rio’s world seems to stop moving upon hearing that. “.. What?”
“Maybe even four of them at once.” Agatha adds, almost thoughtfully. “That way you’ll be too busy working for the rest of your life to pay for child support instead of terrorizing mine.”
The panic is evident in Rio’s face, her brown eyes wide and uncharacteristically unguarded as tries to process the sheer absurdity of what she just heard.
“Hey—no, no, don’t put that out into the universe!” Rio gasps, immediately stepping back as panic fully takes over her usual composure. She reaches out on instinct and knocks against the nearest wall, which is not even wood so that does absolutely nothing to satisfy her superstitious desperation. “Absolutely not. We are not manifesting that. Not today, not ever!”
Agatha’s face is void of any emotion while she watches Rio spiral.
Rio continues to move in place, too restless now to stand still. She knocks again for good measure—this time against the door of one of the nearby classrooms in the hallway. “Jesus Christ, Agatha. That’s not funny. Take it back.”
“I’m not taking it back.”
“Take it back.” Rio insists, pointing at her now, half-serious, half-panicked in the most ridiculous way possible. “Say you don’t mean it.”
Agatha raises a brow. “I absolutely mean it.”
See, Agatha doesn’t actually mean it—but for the sake of the game, she says she does. She’s not about to subject some poor women and their potential kids to a certified womanizer.
Then again, maybe Rio wouldn’t be the worst parent in the world. Agatha only knows her on a surface level and it would be unfair if she refuses to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Still, it’s worth it just to see the panic flash in Rio’s eyes.
Rio groans, knocking once more against the door. “You’re trying to curse me!”
“If it works, I’ll consider it a success. My ancestors from Salem would be so proud.”
Rio stares at her in exasperation. “You are actually evil.”
“Shouldn’t you know that by now?”
Rio actually looks mortified as she mumbles something under her breath and walks away without looking back at Agatha, moving a little too fast as though she’s trying to outrun something.
Agatha allows herself the faintest hint of a smile with the satisfaction that settles in her chest as she watches her go. Finally. She’s gotten under Rio Vidal’s skin just as much as Rio has gotten under hers.
Even score.