Another teacher

A man is strolling through the library, his eyes roaming over the stacks of books. He's somewhere in his thirties, lean and hawkish looking. He must be another of the new teachers, and you consider getting up and introducing yourself.

Before you can do anything his head suddenly jerks upwards, reacting to something you cannot hear. He strides quickly to one of the spiral staircases and climbs it, ascending out of your vision. Puzzled, you think about following him, but decide against it, returning your attention to your book.

Ten minutes later the man descends the staircase and strides out of the library before you have any chance of introducing yourself. Shrugging, you turn back to the book, finding solace in Mead's description of adolescent Samoan girls.

Perhaps half an hour later you hear footsteps descending the stairs. A middle aged woman dressed in a plain and rather dowdy pantsuit appears, her face half hidden behind a large pair of plastic framed glasses. She walks diffidently, as if uncertain of herself, making her way around the library floor and turning off the reading lights.

You close your book and stand up as she approaches, preparing to introduce yourself.

Instead, you startle her. She gives a squeak of alarm and jumps back, her eyes wide. She looks as though she's about to flee for her life and you feel a surge of guilt for having been the cause of her alarm.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just sitting here reading. I'm so sorry!"

She puts one hand against her chest and gasps slightly as she looks at you. You see that your initial impression that she was middle aged was incorrect. Despite her dowdy, unflattering clothes, the heavy unsuitable glasses and the tight bun she wears, she can't be any older than her mid-twenties.

"I'm Mason Carter," you say, holding out your hand. "The new biology teacher."

"Alice Wilder," she replies shyly, one hand making a vague gesture at the room. "The librarian."

"I guessed," you smile, trying to put her at her ease, although you sense nervousness is a permanent condition with her. She's actually quite pretty you realise, although she's doing her best to hide the fact. Her eyes are a pretty shade of grey with blue and green flecks, and although her petite upturned nose would be best described as cute, she has surprisingly full mouth for someone so quiet. Her neck is delicate, almost elegant and in different clothes she would be very attractive.

"I'm just closing up," she says softly, looking down. "If you want to take the book with you it's ok. Or you can stay if you like. Just turn the light out when you leave."

"I'll get out of your way," you smile. "I don't want to keep you from anything."

"It's alright. I was going to have dinner with a friend, one of the other teachers, but something came up. I'm just going to have an early night."

Her voice is slightly plaintive, but you hear no tone of invitation or interest. And why should you, you ask yourself. She's about half your age, and from the look of her isn't particularly interested in men anyway. You'd be the last person to interest a girl like this.

"Well, have a great evening," you say with a smile. "Very nice to meet you Ms. Wilder."

"Yes. You too Mr. Carter," she says quietly, barely looking at you as you pick up the book and leave the library.