Seeing Mr. Taylor, or should he call him Finn what was the protocol on situations like this, handle the situation so calmly and efficiently was very nice to see. He was glad that someone else out there was trying their best to make sure that kids were safe. Nobody deserved to live a life of pain, especially when they were children and couldn't escape it. He looked at Brock and Jeremy and Brock continued to relax with the boy, soothe him, Brock was such a good kid. He went to Mr. Taylor.<br/><br/>"I probably should have just gone to you first, but I wasn't expecting for the office to be so... well, I don't like her and I think the feeling is mutual. But thank you," he said. He wasn't expecting that, at all. He stayed there, waiting for the cab with Jeremy and Mr. Taylor. He'd have to speak with Jeremy's parents to see if he could spend some time over at their house, purely because he doubted the kid got ice cream and Brock loved it more than anything green (unless it was mint chocolate chip -- he was an odd, precious, wonderful child, though). The cab was slow to pull up, but it did and Brock hugged Jeremy before letting him go. "It was nice meeting you Jeremy," he said. He'd have to have to get his mother or father's number through Brock, who seemed quite attached already. He didn't know why, though, maybe because he was just a kind boy like that. He turned to the teacher. He'd been wanting to ask him to join them for ice cream and probably dinner somewhere, but he wasn't sure how to properly articulate such a thing, and of course he had promised Brock ice cream so that was a must.<br/><br/>"Uh, yeah, dinner's probably not cooked, but I promised Brock some ice cream. I know an amazing place that has the best Mexican food, and of course there is a million different types of ice cream so Brock gets a little crazy over it. I just thought since we were both still here and, well, I don't want to..." he rested his hand on Brock's shoulder. He mouthed: I don't want to go home. And then ruffled Brock's crazy, wavy platinum hair. "I understand if you think that's maybe unprofessional, although I wouldn't say as much, per se, but the choice is yours."<br/><br/>"Mr. Taylor can get ice cream with us? He's gotta try the cotton candy one. It's like real cotton candy, but it's not!"<br/><br/>Chris wasn't sure what expression to make at that, so he was sure his face shut down. He had been told he looked mean, but then he tried to smile despite feeling horrible for now putting this man in a position where he may feel like he was now obligated to join them for what would be the supper and dessert because Edith didn't cook, she hadn't cooked anything with the stove or oven in years. She just made smoothies and ate cereal out of coffee mugs despite having perfectly clean bowls in the cabinet. But that was beside the point. This wasn't about her right now, it was just about Brock and possibly his teacher, or one of them.<br/><br/>"You really don't have to, but I think we'd both like it."