Butter Pecan 2; Red Currant 15
Author: Marina
Story: The Dragon World
Challenge: Butter Pecan 2 (sharp), Red Currant 15 (force of nature)
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Malt (Potluck prompt from Nath: “Music's always been really cathartic. It's the best drug for me to get away from the everyday pressures just for a second via a good song.” - Ville Valo)
Word Count: 1,074
Rating: PG
Summary: Kevin learns something about Laura that he didn’t know.
Notes: Takes place pretty shortly after the main story ends. The song Kevin does not know all the words to is “Learning to Breathe,” by Switchfoot. For the Lilith Fair challenge: a female character’s relationship to music.
“Hey, I think I know this song.”
Laura smiled, even though she did not look up from stirring the chili. “Yeah, I bet you do. That’s a Switchfoot song.”
“Who’s Switchfoot?” Kevin asked, frowning at the little radio on the kitchen windowsill.
“A rock group. They kind of dance on the line between mainstream and gospel, but a few of their songs are pretty popular. There’s a few on the Walk to Remember soundtrack, for example.”
He made a face. “That’s probably where I know it from, then. Lindsey loves that movie.”
“I’m guessing you don’t,” said Laura. He could tell she was trying not to laugh at him.
“Hell no. It’s really cheesy, and really unrealistic. Like, really.”
“Fair enough. I really like it, though. The play scene is my favorite.”
Kevin shook his head. “You’re such a girl.”
She burst into giggles at that, seemingly unable to help it. “You just noticed this? Go get me four bowls, please. They’re in the cupboard behind you.”
He rolled his eyes, but turned around and did as she asked. Like everything else in the Mitchells’ kitchen, the dish cupboard was scrupulously organized and homey-looking-the dishes were stacked in neat piles on shelves lined with blue-checkered paper. He found two different stacks of bowls on the middle shelf. “Plastic or china?”
“Plastic, definitely. Chase breaks the china ones.”
Kevin lifted four of them out and shut the cupboard with his shoulder. As the instrumentals of the song began to build up to the chorus, he danced the bowls mockingly over to the stove and Laura. “Learning to breed, na na na na na, I’m finding that you and you alone can break my heart,” he sang, in an overexaggerated falsetto.
Laura cringed and put her free hand to her ear. “Wow,” she said, turning a partially amused, partially horrified grimace on him, “not only were those the wrong words, you were way off-key.”
“I was not,” he said righteously.
“You were too.”
“Was not.”
“Were too, I have perfect pitch, do not argue with me.”
He raised his eyebrows at the unfamiliar term. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh! One sec.” Laura held up a finger, put her wooden spoon aside, and rummaged around in the drawers for a ladle. “It means I can tell you the name of a note just by hearing it, or sing any note if you give me the name of it, and I don’t have to look at a keyboard or anything else for a reference.”
Kevin crossed his arms. “Out of thin air? You’re shitting me.”
“I swear. Look it up online when you get home.” She did not give him the side-eye for the curse word, as she usually did, which meant either that she really was serious, or just distracted with dishing up the chili.
“Okay, I will.” His friendship with Laura was shaping up to be a very educational experience. That day alone, she had shared the benefits of yoga stretches, the secret to really good chili, and the new musical term-all before they had even eaten lunch. He had some doubts about the magical powers of paprika, whatever that was, but that would be proven by tasting the final product. The other two could be backed up by the internet.
She flashed him a quick smile. “Will you ask what the other two want to drink?”
“Sure.” He walked over to the island counter at the edge of the kitchen and leaned out over it, so far that he almost took a dive onto the carpet below. “Hey, squirts, what do you want to drink?” he yelled, in the general direction of Carrie and Chase’s secret base in the den.
“Apple juice,” Carrie called back, after a few moments of muffled debate. “For both of us.”
Kevin glanced back at Laura. “Did you get that?”
“You’re terrible,” she informed him, as she reached into the cupboard for cups. “Get off the counter.”
With a smirk, he complied. “So, how do you get that?”
“Get what?”
“That perfect pitch whatever.”
She turned to open the refrigerator. The inside light illuminated the growing blush on her cheeks. “You have to be born with it. What do you want to drink? We have milk, apple juice, lemonade, root beer…”
“Root beer’s fine,” he said. “Why are you blushing?”
“I’m not,” she said, even as her face grew redder.
Kevin leaned a hip against the counter and pinned her with a no-nonsense look. “Yes, you are, I have eyes, do not argue with me,” he parroted.
Laura passed him the container of root beer and a plastic juice pitcher over the refrigerator door. “And now you’re mocking me, which makes me less inclined to answer you.”
“Sorry,” he said, somewhat sincerely. “I’m just curious.”
She bit her lip. “Talking about music things with people who don’t already know about it just…feels weird to me.”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“A little bit,” she admitted.
He laughed incredulously. “Really? Damn, Laura, if I had something like that I’d be telling everyone who’d listen. That’s, like, a superpower.”
“Ha!” Laura shook her head a little and shut the door. “I’d be the lamest superhero ever.”
“Nah, you could probably figure out what the villain’s doing from a long way away by listening for notes.”
“You’re thinking of supersonic hearing. It doesn’t work that way. Pass me the pitcher back?”
Kevin held it out to her and watched in silence as she took it and poured three glasses of juice. The redness had not left her face, and it looked very out of place compared to the quiet resolve he remembered from the dragon world. His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you embarrassed to talk about music with me?”
She shrugged. “It’s kind of stupid, I guess, but music is really important to me. I can’t remember not loving it, and I want it to be my job, someday. Not everybody gets that.”
“Well, I think it’s great,” he said firmly, “and I wish I was talented like that.”
The bold statement earned him a gratified smile. “Thanks, Kevin.” With a mischievous quirk of the lips, she added, “I’m sorry that you’re apparently tone deaf.”
He scoffed, pretending to be offended. “And you’re so nice to me.”
“I know.” Her smirk became an honestly happy grin, which he returned. “Will you please take the drinks out to the table?”
“Sure.”
Story: The Dragon World
Challenge: Butter Pecan 2 (sharp), Red Currant 15 (force of nature)
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Malt (Potluck prompt from Nath: “Music's always been really cathartic. It's the best drug for me to get away from the everyday pressures just for a second via a good song.” - Ville Valo)
Word Count: 1,074
Rating: PG
Summary: Kevin learns something about Laura that he didn’t know.
Notes: Takes place pretty shortly after the main story ends. The song Kevin does not know all the words to is “Learning to Breathe,” by Switchfoot. For the Lilith Fair challenge: a female character’s relationship to music.
“Hey, I think I know this song.”
Laura smiled, even though she did not look up from stirring the chili. “Yeah, I bet you do. That’s a Switchfoot song.”
“Who’s Switchfoot?” Kevin asked, frowning at the little radio on the kitchen windowsill.
“A rock group. They kind of dance on the line between mainstream and gospel, but a few of their songs are pretty popular. There’s a few on the Walk to Remember soundtrack, for example.”
He made a face. “That’s probably where I know it from, then. Lindsey loves that movie.”
“I’m guessing you don’t,” said Laura. He could tell she was trying not to laugh at him.
“Hell no. It’s really cheesy, and really unrealistic. Like, really.”
“Fair enough. I really like it, though. The play scene is my favorite.”
Kevin shook his head. “You’re such a girl.”
She burst into giggles at that, seemingly unable to help it. “You just noticed this? Go get me four bowls, please. They’re in the cupboard behind you.”
He rolled his eyes, but turned around and did as she asked. Like everything else in the Mitchells’ kitchen, the dish cupboard was scrupulously organized and homey-looking-the dishes were stacked in neat piles on shelves lined with blue-checkered paper. He found two different stacks of bowls on the middle shelf. “Plastic or china?”
“Plastic, definitely. Chase breaks the china ones.”
Kevin lifted four of them out and shut the cupboard with his shoulder. As the instrumentals of the song began to build up to the chorus, he danced the bowls mockingly over to the stove and Laura. “Learning to breed, na na na na na, I’m finding that you and you alone can break my heart,” he sang, in an overexaggerated falsetto.
Laura cringed and put her free hand to her ear. “Wow,” she said, turning a partially amused, partially horrified grimace on him, “not only were those the wrong words, you were way off-key.”
“I was not,” he said righteously.
“You were too.”
“Was not.”
“Were too, I have perfect pitch, do not argue with me.”
He raised his eyebrows at the unfamiliar term. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh! One sec.” Laura held up a finger, put her wooden spoon aside, and rummaged around in the drawers for a ladle. “It means I can tell you the name of a note just by hearing it, or sing any note if you give me the name of it, and I don’t have to look at a keyboard or anything else for a reference.”
Kevin crossed his arms. “Out of thin air? You’re shitting me.”
“I swear. Look it up online when you get home.” She did not give him the side-eye for the curse word, as she usually did, which meant either that she really was serious, or just distracted with dishing up the chili.
“Okay, I will.” His friendship with Laura was shaping up to be a very educational experience. That day alone, she had shared the benefits of yoga stretches, the secret to really good chili, and the new musical term-all before they had even eaten lunch. He had some doubts about the magical powers of paprika, whatever that was, but that would be proven by tasting the final product. The other two could be backed up by the internet.
She flashed him a quick smile. “Will you ask what the other two want to drink?”
“Sure.” He walked over to the island counter at the edge of the kitchen and leaned out over it, so far that he almost took a dive onto the carpet below. “Hey, squirts, what do you want to drink?” he yelled, in the general direction of Carrie and Chase’s secret base in the den.
“Apple juice,” Carrie called back, after a few moments of muffled debate. “For both of us.”
Kevin glanced back at Laura. “Did you get that?”
“You’re terrible,” she informed him, as she reached into the cupboard for cups. “Get off the counter.”
With a smirk, he complied. “So, how do you get that?”
“Get what?”
“That perfect pitch whatever.”
She turned to open the refrigerator. The inside light illuminated the growing blush on her cheeks. “You have to be born with it. What do you want to drink? We have milk, apple juice, lemonade, root beer…”
“Root beer’s fine,” he said. “Why are you blushing?”
“I’m not,” she said, even as her face grew redder.
Kevin leaned a hip against the counter and pinned her with a no-nonsense look. “Yes, you are, I have eyes, do not argue with me,” he parroted.
Laura passed him the container of root beer and a plastic juice pitcher over the refrigerator door. “And now you’re mocking me, which makes me less inclined to answer you.”
“Sorry,” he said, somewhat sincerely. “I’m just curious.”
She bit her lip. “Talking about music things with people who don’t already know about it just…feels weird to me.”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“A little bit,” she admitted.
He laughed incredulously. “Really? Damn, Laura, if I had something like that I’d be telling everyone who’d listen. That’s, like, a superpower.”
“Ha!” Laura shook her head a little and shut the door. “I’d be the lamest superhero ever.”
“Nah, you could probably figure out what the villain’s doing from a long way away by listening for notes.”
“You’re thinking of supersonic hearing. It doesn’t work that way. Pass me the pitcher back?”
Kevin held it out to her and watched in silence as she took it and poured three glasses of juice. The redness had not left her face, and it looked very out of place compared to the quiet resolve he remembered from the dragon world. His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you embarrassed to talk about music with me?”
She shrugged. “It’s kind of stupid, I guess, but music is really important to me. I can’t remember not loving it, and I want it to be my job, someday. Not everybody gets that.”
“Well, I think it’s great,” he said firmly, “and I wish I was talented like that.”
The bold statement earned him a gratified smile. “Thanks, Kevin.” With a mischievous quirk of the lips, she added, “I’m sorry that you’re apparently tone deaf.”
He scoffed, pretending to be offended. “And you’re so nice to me.”
“I know.” Her smirk became an honestly happy grin, which he returned. “Will you please take the drinks out to the table?”
“Sure.”