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 Posted: Fri May 01, 2009 9:23 pm
"You're welcome," he said, perfectly polite and still smiling. Carlisle was glad to see that she was smiling too, and he settled his chin in his palms with the elbows on his knees so he could more clearly see her face. He liked her smile; it lit up her whole face. He wondered if his friend's (being pretty oblivious to himself, at least, the word 'crush' was pretty far from his mind) smile had always been so, well, radiant. "I'll take your word for it," he continued, his voice trailing off near the end for a moment.
He wondered at the shake of her head, partially distracted by the muttering (quiet now, hardly as noticeable although his headache was nominally worse) and the rest distracted by wondering why he was getting that irritating feeling again. Almost, almost he asked her how he could help, but she started to speak first; initially he felt dismay. That's all? No, it would be okay, he just didn't want to go home and be treated like glass and wept over. Carlisle realized his mother needed to guilt herself into feeling better, but he didn't want to be there while she was doing it, or anything. (This was how he rationalized his agitation.)
Then she spoke again and the smile came back almost immediately, even if she wasn't looking at him. Maybe, he thought with a sudden surge of paranoia, she'd heard about his unfortunate location in the special education section of the school- but no, she was speaking and there was some kind of flutter in her wings that he found rather a good omen. "Sure! Of course we could meet up after school, and - " Oh! " - of course we can waltz. To pass the time. If you like, I can introduce you to my teacher. She is a much better teacher than I am, and she can show you how to do the girl's parts better, if you want."
He apparently had no worries about seeming too eager.
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Posted: Fri May 01, 2009 10:38 pm
Casia looked up sharply and shook her head. "No!" Biting her lip, she paused and amended, "No, no thanks, I'm fine with you teaching me. It's not like I'm gonna go professional or anything." She gave a weak laugh, rubbng her arm nervously. It was bad enough that she was trusting Carlisle to teach her how to waltz, even though he seemed nice so far, she barely knew him. Letting a total stranger show her would be much worse, especially if they already knew a lot about music. The fact Carlisle knew so little about music made them equals even though he could waltz, but this stranger he had mentioned might be superior.
"Anyway," she began to divert attention from her outburst, "I'm glad you're cool with that, we should definitely meet up sometime. What days are you free?" The siren herself tended to be free every day, she usually stayed after school even when she had no reason to, using practicing singing as an excuse not to go home until she absolutely had to. "I'm fine with whatever, I don't have any other commitments." For a moment, the siren paused as if her mind was elsewhere, but presently gave a faint nod. "...No commitments at all." she reiterated, half to herself. "And I can teach you to do 60's dances or something maybe. After we get on in our lessons a bit." She wanted to make it perfectly clear that if he was going to offer to teach her, she wanted him to do it properly. One or two lessons wouldn't be enough, what was the point of learning if you didn't learn well enough to look good doing it?
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Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 7:38 am
He didn't look too fazed by her outburst, instead smiling with something like understanding. Personally, and he might have been a tiny bit biased, Carlisle thought that it was a shame that she had decided not to go professional. The mob in the back of his head giggled again, though, so he declined commenting. He might slip up, after all, and said something that wasn't his words or his thoughts.
To buy time while he considered his schedule, he ran his fingers through his hair and noted it was almost dry; the bad thing about having such long hair was that- well, there were two bad things. One, it made you look like a girl. Two, it stayed damp for ever. He considered himself lucky that his hair seemed rather heat-resistant and didn't frizz up in the summer. Then he said, "I have... lessons," (please don't ask what for, he thought, begging any listening god to make her think it was waltzing) "on some days. It changes every week because the tutor has to work some days and not others, but I am free on Fridays because his daughter has a lot of appointments."
Then he paused again, thinking. "That sounds like fun, Casia," he said, because he did believe in a fair exchange of information even if he'd willingly tip the scales towards a girl if given the chance. "I didn't know dances changed all that much in different eras." Meaning, of course, that he'd assumed that waltzing was the only kind of dance. But it seemed he was wrong.
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Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 9:46 am
Casia grinned. "Groovy." she said, pleased things were arranging themselves so neatly. The pause at 'lessons' went unnoticed, the siren was too distracted by planning these lessons of her own. "I can do Fridays, definitely." This meant she'd have to learn how to dance. She had always tried to do all those 60's moves at Anna's house, but it had been pretty hit and miss, so now she had another project to keep her busy at home, too. "And yeah..." She but her lip to suffocate a laugh. "They're a little different from waltzing."
The formalities done and everything arranged, Casia got up, looking around. Jane wouldn't be coming quite yet, which left just enough room for an awkward silence or two before she had to go. "So when is your mom picking you up?" she asked Carlisle, and then remembered his family situation. He was the one with the Blue Meanie aunt! "Or, you know, hey, your aunt isn't picking you up, right?" she asked a tad nervously. Carlisle was okay, but she didn't really want to meet his more fearsome relatives if she could avoid it.
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Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 4:05 pm
He nodded, thinking that he would ask someone what groovy meant at some point. (Someone obligingly said it means cool, and he wondered if maybe that was what Luka had been going on about with the 'myriad is a gift' or whatever thing he'd half-started before getting kicked out.) "Great," he said, enthusiasm showing in the way he straightened up. Carlisle didn't actually rise, but he leaned forward a bit like he was planning on it. Eventually.
"Er," he said, thinking of his mom. She probably could pick him up, since she was in Aekea for the time being. But Lixxie couldn't drive, being technically too young, and she didn't know where the Center was, at any rate. So it would be Sugita-san. Carlisle wondered why Casia sounded so nervous about his aunt; had they met at some point, or something? "No," he said, "Sugita-san is probably picking me up. She won't let me call her Miss Sugita." He flushed red. What a dumbass thing to say! But it'd felt weird, using the honorific around someone his own age, he rationalized.
Then, a somewhat sheepish smile later, he said, "She'll probably be here soon."
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Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 8:51 pm
Casia nodded faintly, trying not to show how relieved she was. "Oh, cool." she said absentmindedly, glad to have dodged that particular bullet discreetly as possible. "Um..." Silence descended again and to distract herself, she hummed, drumming her fingers on her leg. "Oh!" Jane's car was pulling up and she looked back at Carlisle. "That's my ride." She felt a stab of regret, it was awkward sitting with Carlisle, but it was more awkward sitting with Jane, they didn't even have the common factor of age or school or anything. "Well, I'll look forward to Friday! Thanks, Carlisle." Flashing him a brief, hesitant smile, the siren gave the boy a fluttering wave of her hand and headed into the mail carrier's car, somewhat pleased with herself at how things had gone in her first really intentional meeting with someone since Anna had left. She could trust Carlisle to teach her to waltz for now, and though she wasn't ready to call him a friend, he definitely wasn't an enemy. After all the trouble she had recently talking to people, it was a start.
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Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 9:05 pm
God, great, she hadn't noticed. He nodded in agreement, glad that he'd at least managed to not show what an idiot he was as he watched the car pull up. He raised one hand to wave and smiled, sitting his chin on his knuckles so he could lean over better. "All right. Have a good weekend, Casia. Thank you for the song!"
Then, alone, he sat for a minute and contemplated: Now he had a pupil of his own. He would really have to pay attention at his waltzing lessons, not like he didn't already. And it was appealing to actually have a relationship with someone with something they did specifically together. Socialization, he'd found, was sporadic and awkward when you were a cabbage patch kid. He got up when he saw Sugita's blue Nissan driving up, windows down or maybe stuck that way, and it was then he noticed it:
A yellow jacket with piping (a voice supplied the term) in a shade of coral. Casia's jacket! When had she taken it off? He reached down to pick it up; just leaving it on the steps would be a terrible thing to do. Examination revealed a tag inside the collar, reading Casia Greystone and an address he took a moment to decipher in neat black ink. It looked like it had had better days, too, and someone said darkly, Someone's unhappy.
Carlisle ignored them. He did not ignore Sugita-san when she called his name, though; he ran down the car, jacket in hand. They would return it next time they went to Barton- or else, by the next day they saw fit to send him to school.
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