Book Club (Tagged and Open to Adults)

Surprisingly, Terrence was one of the first to arrive at the coffee shop, early enough, in fact, that he had time to deeply ponder what type of coffee to order before sitting down and there were still few people around.

Of course, it was possible that this would be it for attendees; he didn't know how much need there was for a book club in Pilot Ridge. He knew Ben didn't read, to begin with. At least he would meet a few people.

He kept his copy of Of Mice and Men on the table in front of him, ready to flip to whatever pages were discussed. The cardboard cup of coffee was off to the right, just out of reach of his book -- after all, he wouldn't want to ruin a book by spilling coffee on it.

Not long after he sat down there arrived a very pretty young blonde. He hadn't considered the book club as a way to meet women, but so far the other attendees were female. Was he going to be the only male? Not that it mattered to him, really, as long as they discussed the book.

"Ms. Gold, it's a pleasure to meet you," He nodded to her in greeting. "My name is Terrence Jordan."

He shrugged at her question and shook his head to indicate he wasn't sure what the plan was. "I'm not even sure who is in charge." He admitted, stretching his legs out under the table to the best of his ability.

And then another woman walked in. He rreally was surrounded by estrogen. "Helen, it's a pleasure. I'm Terrence. Ms. Gold and I were just discussing how to get started..."

Mitchell was late. Mitchell hated being late. But there was really no help for it: he had to take his daughter to her after-school art class, scold Elliot for not doing his share of the chores again, make amends to Elliot for scolding him, silently fret about the whole affair whilst grading papers, then suddenly looking at the clock to realize that he was late and he had no idea where in the library they would be meeting. This was all rather uncharacteristic of him, and so when he arrived at the library, he was cursing his rotten luck and lamenting the fact that his fellow book-club members would get the entirely wrong idea about him.

It was a damn good thing he'd already read Of Mice and Men.

When he bustled into the library, it was a fortunately short look when the small group caught his eye. Swallowing down a bit of nervousness, he walked over to the table, waiting politely for the young, blonde woman who appeared to be in charge (he thought he heard her name was...Layla? Leila? Oh dear, he should probably figure that out), to finish speaking before he gave them a little wave.

"Terribly sorry I'm late." He apologized, awkwardly taking a seat next to the other blonde woman who looked around his age, "Had some trouble with my children." He pulled out his battered copy of the book and ran a distracted hand through his hair, "Ah, Mitchell Vick, I teach at University of Vermont. English Literature." He gave the group a self-depreciating smile, "Very pleased to meet you all."

[ooc: sorry for the wait ^^]

Sean had arrived early for the book club because he didn’t like arriving late; it was rude, and he preferred to wait for others if given the choice between that and making others wait on him. Unfortunately, after he’d arrived but before the club had begun its meeting, there had been a phone call from work. It was the downside to being on call: even when he wasn’t at Hammel, there was a chance that he was needed. His time was his own but Hammel had the ability to lease it on a moment’s notice. He’d left his book and his coffee behind on the table and had disappeared to another part of the store to take the call privately.

Thankfully, it had been a disciplinary matter rather than a full psychological emergency. He didn’t have to drop everything and return to the school to tend to a therapy session or to write a prescription. He would simply have to handle this first thing in the morning, before he had his morning coffee and before home room classes began. While he would prefer to not have to deal with this matter at all, he accepted this portion of his job and the students took him more seriously than they did some of the teachers.

Besides, given the disarray in the aftermath of Claude’s resignation/retirement, he preferred to provide what consistency he could. It minimized surprises.

But by the time the call ended, the meeting time had passed and he sighed inwardly; how fitting, the best laid plans...

He returned to the table with a small apologetic smile on his lips, before taking the seat he had claimed previously. “My apologies, everyone. Work intervened.” Seated, he took the opportunity to study the other faces around the table. He recognized about half of them and gave both Leila and Danny a smile of their own. He gleaned that they were in the middle of introductions and so he added, “I’m Sean Neville. I’ve spent about half my life in Pilot Ridge, and I’m willing to try anything once.”