AVALANCHE: Drop In [3/?] -- PG
Ugh, people shouldn't allow me to write WIPs. What is wrong with you all? I blame you, of course. I also blame college. Whatever it is, I take no responsibility for the lack of updates by my own self. (See how I am?) Anyway, ages and ages later...
[title] AVALANCHE: Drop In [3/?]
[author] kissontheneck [aka fieryrogue]
[pairing] Cookleta, Marly UST, bromance!Mavid
[beta] jehane18, my snow angel. ♥
[rating] PG
[word count] 2921
[summary] David is on a nice holiday ski trip with his family. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to ski, but a couple private lessons should remedy that problem.
[disclaimer] Surely, I have nothing to do with either of these fine young men, no matter how much I wish I did.
[warnings] Jovial harassment, bad table manners
[author's notes] I don't know why I struggled with this part, but I did. It's actually part of the reason it took me so long to get it out, aside from lots of school work and such. My girl Jay edited, I cleaned up, but then I didn't show her again afterward so if there's anything miserable you should blame me. (Always, always blame me.) There might even be entire sentences that she wrote in here, but don't tell her that. ;) Also, at this rate you guys are going to have the same story from me for years and years to come. I mean, even soap operas are daily, geez. My summer is free though so we'll see what happens. (I won't say "I'll try harder to write more!" because those sorts of statements always get me into trouble. LOL.)
LOOK, I HAZ A BANNER NAO.
PART ONE: Milk Run
PART TWO: Fresh Powder
PART THREE:
AVALANCHE: Drop In
Even from across the dining room, Cook can see the glint in Michael's eye. The way his Aussie friend smiles widely the whole time Carly is talking and how she herself kind of bounces as she mindlessly waves her fork in the air, gesticulating to emphasize her speech. Her hair falls in her eyes as she laughs at a comment Mike makes and he reaches out carefully to pull the lock of soft black hair from falling into her iced tea.
It's absolutely disgusting.
To be fair, Cook doesn't mind his two best friends being into one another. Really, he finds them well-suited and is amused by their ongoing shyness in the presence of anyone besides themselves. Both have tough exteriors they work hard to protect, and showing their romantic sides in any way is embarrassing to them, even if the whole wide world already knows better. But if Cook is honest with himself (which is rare sometimes, since he too has a reputation to uphold, after all), it makes him uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because it's extremely difficult for him to even hope for a relationship up on this mountain, let alone actually secure one. The tourists come and go, making it nearly impossible to even tell if they're playing on the same team as he is, and only sets him up for heartbreak when they have to leave. At best he's managed a few make-out sessions, but in the end he knows he's not really one for a life of one night stands. The staff is out of the question, they're like family to him, not to mention life on the mountain is like living in a small town where everybody knows your business. So he sort of decided awhile ago that he's monogamous with the mountain, and happily so.
Carly is blushing into her chicken salad as Cook comes up on their table, and Mike is caught off guard fiddling with his water glass when Cook unceremoniously shoves his friend over in the booth, simultaneously reaching to steal one of his fries. Mike gives him a hard look, which Cook ignores and he smiles broadly at the girl who is exactly the type of girl he'd be into, if he were into that sort of thing. (Incidentally, Mike is exactly the kind of guy Cook would be into, if Mike were into that sort of thing.)
"You guys ordered without me again," Cook says, now fighting Mike for his soda which Mike is pointlessly attempting to guard. "I'm starting to think you don't like me."
Cook catches the look Carly shoots Michael, the look that he's not so dumb to misinterpret. It's a look that kind of mixes annoyance with pity, but Cook has become an expert at denying that he really is in the way sometimes.
Pushing her half-empty plate away from her, Carly rests her chin on her hand and looks at Cook, her lips pressed thinly together.
"How'd your day go with Tripsy McFallerton?" she inquires as he immediately takes to poking at her discarded meal. "Do you ever eat your own meals?" she adds, eying him.
"What?" Cook replies, a large chunk of grilled chicken nearly hanging out of his mouth. "Were you not done?"
"I guess I am now," Carly says, finally chuckling gently.
"For your information, he's improving quite nicely," Cook answers. He can see now why Carly abandoned what was left of her salad; his mouth seizes up around the dry meat as he makes an expression of absolute disgust. Stealing another swig of Mike's soda, Cook forces himself to swallow the whole mess before pushing the plate away and continuing. "He was reluctant at first, but once I gave him the old David Cook encouragement, he only fell three or four more times."
Both Carly and Mike break into sharp laughter at this statement and Cook grins into the glass of half-drunk soda he's cradling between his fingers.
"Tell me, mate," Mike struggles to get out between chuckles, "is he going to make it to a bunny slope before his vacation is over or are we just chalking this one up to raking in easy cash from a rich dad?"
"Dang it, Johns," Cook replies, narrowing his brow at his friend. "I take this job very seriously! We made it to the bunny slope, thank you very much, and he's doing quite well. That is, after he got done apologizing to that little girl he collided with on the first run."
Cook did not share the renewed laughter that boiled up again, and in response he moodily gnawed on the end of his soda straw. It was true that David proved to be nearly hopeless on skis, and there wasn't much proof so far that the kid would advance much before he'd have to go home again. Historically, the only way the three of them got through their days sometimes was the ability to make fun of their less successful charges. But something about David made it seem really unfair to do so in his case. He showed a lot of determination once he received the right encouragement, and frankly Cook felt a little sorry for him. It had become painfully clear during their lesson that David tried really hard to please others, even when it was obvious that he was miserable. Cook felt badly about this, honestly, and was tempted to tell David that it wouldn't hurt his feelings if he didn't want to look at another ski for the rest of his life. However, he'd already committed himself to the kid so he also felt like it'd be worse making such a proposition, giving the impression that he was giving up on him easily. No, Cook liked following through on his promises, and he was going to do just that.
"David? Cook! Are you with us, buddy?"
Cook blinked as Mike snapped his fingers in front of his face, startling him back to reality. Carly gazed across the table at him, her head cocked to the side as if she were trying to figure out his thoughts.
"You've been holding that french fry aloft for way too long," she said. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
"What?" Cook replied, staring at the limp stick of potato clutched between his fingers. "Nothing, just... gah, these are cold now," he added after shoving the same fry into his mouth. Without thinking he drug his hand across his shirt, apparently forgetting the invention called the napkin.
"Hey, let me out," Mike suddenly requested, pushing at Cook's shoulder. "Despite the fact that you stole half my soda, I've gotta piss like a racehorse."
"So glad to see you're picking up American idioms," Cook replied, scooting along the bench as Mike shoved. "Makes you sound nice and crude... like a proper American."
"I just wanna be like you," Mike sang, batting his eyelashes. "Come on, move your sweet ass before I pee on you. Unless you're into that."
Fortunately, Cook was already sliding off the end of the bench seat before such a thing could come to pass. "Not usually," he answered, "but for you I might make an exception."
Mike, now on his feet, gave his friend a strange look as he patted him on the shoulder. "You're a peculiar creature, David Cook. Keep my seat warm."
Cook rolled his eyes as he resumed his seat, immediately turning his attention to Carly across from him. "What do you see in that guy, anyway?"
Carly stared at him like a deer in headlights. "What?" she sputtered, sitting up straighter. "What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, sorry," Cook replied, rolling his eyes. "I forgot I'm supposed to pretend that I don't notice the two of you making out with your eyes all the time." Cook flashed his crooked grin at her.
"Michael and I are friends," Carly replied even as Cook found enjoyment in her panic-filled eyes. "Very good friends."
"Uh huh," Cook chuckled, squinting his eyes. "With benefits?"
Carly looked absolutely horror-striken. Her mouth opened and closed several times though no sound ever managed to come out of it, and this display only made Cook laugh harder.
"Come on," he said, "I share a living space with the guy. I know things."
"Did he say something?" Carly quickly asked in a hushed tone, her eyes flashing. "What's he saying, I'll kill him!"
Despite Carly's obvious eagerness to keep things quiet, Cook couldn't help but explode with laughter. "Shoot, nothing," he answered, rubbing his fingers across his eyes, "but now you just told on yourself."
The stare Cook got just about pinned him to the wall. Carly’s icy looks made her crystal blue glare intimidating to the uninitiated. If Cook hadn't known her for several years now, he might have felt badly, but since he was used to getting this arresting glare from her nearly every day, he merely smiled at her pleasantly.
"Nothing is going on," Carly emphasized, still gazing at Cook unblinking. "There might be, you know, some things I like about Michael. I don't know." She paused and her eyes softened. "Has he said anything about me? Do you think he likes me?"
"Hell, I don't know," Cook lied, because to him it was pretty obvious. "You're adorable right now though, all giddy about liking a boy. Gosh, it's like third grade all over again or something."
With that Carly stiffened, again regaining her serious composure. Her eyes darted to somewhere over Cook's shoulder and a small smile broke the corners of her mouth.
"Speaking of giddy little girls," she said slyly, "don't look now, but your boyfriend just walked in."
Cook whirled around in his seat to look behind him, and sure enough, an entire group of people who looked so much like David that Cook could have picked them out on the street hovered by the entry of the dining area. Cook watched the family closely as they stood waiting for the host to find a table able to accommodate seven people. David had four siblings, each of them as dramatically beautiful as their mother, and Cook found himself strangely captivated by the whole clan. He realized he was staring when his eyes suddenly locked with David's and he strained to look away before it seemed creepy and awkward. Awkward, however, seemed to be how David functioned best and he smiled politely at Cook, giving a small wave. Something about that smile made Cook's heart sting in a way that almost scared him, and he immediately attempted to ignore it. Carly, on the other hand, had a different idea.
Cook had turned his head back just far enough to catch Carly grinning like an idiot and making a sweeping beckoning motion with her hand towards David. Cook blinked speechlessly at her a second before again looking in David's direction in time to see his eyes go wide, whisper something to his mom and then begin to cross the dining room, which now suddenly seemed a lot smaller to Cook for some reason.
"Hi," David said timidly once he'd reached the edge of the table. Clearly not knowing what to do with his hands, David moved them alternately from the table's edge, to his pockets, to crossing his arms in front of him and then back to his pockets again. Again Cook lost himself in observation as he realized that he'd only really seen David buried in snow gear all day and hadn't seen normal parts of him like his hands or his forehead. The student now stood before his instructor in dark, pressed slacks, a button-up shirt, a sports jacket and black Converse. David had also molded his jet black hair into something of a peak atop his head and Cook instinctively pushed his own stubby (dirty) fingers through his own stringy (dirty) hair, suddenly feeling like something of a lowly (dirty) pauper. Carly continued to beam at them both.
"How was your lesson today, David?" Carly inquired, suddenly more charming than Cook had ever known her to be. She batted her eyelashes at the boy and rested her chin into the palm of her hand. "Cook was just starting to tell me."
In response, David shuffled nervously, shifting his weight from one side to the other. He chuckled oddly and then stammered, "Oh, great! Um, David... er, Cook? He's a great teacher. I'm sure he's better with people who aren't totally uncoordinated though, but I did manage to ski the length of the practice slope without falling over before the end of the day, ha ha!"
"Fantastic!" Carly said delightfully, that peculiar grin still permanently painted on her face. It was a look that Cook associated with mischievousness, which he kind of didn't like at all.
Cook, now feeling like he should take charge of the conversation before something awful happened, and also that he should say anything at all since he hadn't yet, opened his mouth to do just that. Unfortunately, it also happened to be at exactly the same time that Mike returned from his journey to the men's room, he also wearing a smile that matched Carly's as if they were twins. Just as words were finally making their way to Cook's lips, Mike clapped David hard on the shoulder, causing David to jump as if he'd just taken a firm grip on an electric fence.
"Hey!" Mike bellowed, his Australian accent strong even in the one word. "Is this the man we've been hearing so much about? David, right? Mike. It's unfortunate that you didn't get me as your instructor, but sadly I'm on another assignment right now. But Cook's almost as good as me, so I think you'll be all right out there on the treacherous slopes, huh?"
David looked a little bewildered and Cook could have sworn the color had gone out of his evenly-tanned cheeks. Mike was a little much to suddenly take in all at once, especially for a nervous little person like David. Besides, Mike had just used the word treacherous in front of an already anxious, doubtful student and Cook may well have liked to strangle his best friend right then.
"David," Carly spoke up, succeeding in cutting off Cook's attempt to speak again, "why don't you join us? Michael and I have eaten already, but Cook hasn't, so--"
"Oh, that'd be nice," David answered quickly, taking one hand out of his pocket and gesturing aimlessly. "But I really couldn't--"
"David! Come on now, they've got our table! David!"
The shock of the bellowing man's voice pierced Cook's nerves, and by the looks on Mike's and Carly's faces it'd had the same effect on them. David stiffened and snapped his attention like an army recruit before calling back, "Coming, Dad!"
Glancing back at his three companions, David forced a friendly smile before explaining, "My dad. I better go." His eyes met Cook's again and Cook could have sworn the corners of the kid's mouth wavered as he said, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
Cook nodded lamely just as David's dad bellowed across the restaurant again, to which David sheepishly departed. Cook found himself watching his student's retreat until he couldn't see him any longer before returning his attention to his friends.
"Shoot," Mike said, now pushing at Carly to scoot over so he could sit down next to her. "Carly's right, he's awfully cute. Like a puppy."
A strange, snorting laugh came from Carly and she quickly bit her lip to try and hide it. Cook narrowed his eyes at them both. His Don't Trust These Two Jokers radar pinged relentlessly in his brain.
"All right, what are you two up to?" Cook demanded. He attempted to stare Carly down, but she only giggled into her glass of iced tea and concentrated on the melting ice cubes. "What was said before I got here?"
"Nothing!" Carly insisted, rattling the ice with her straw gently. "I just said he was cute. Is that so wrong?"
"Nothing wrong with that," Mike echoed. Cook could feel his best friend's eyes on him and when he finally relented to the stare, he was met with Mike gazing at him across the table, smiling at him like a cartoon character.
Cook tried to make a face that conveyed his annoyance with their childish behavior. Obviously there had been a conversation he had missed out on, one that probably involved some crazy scheme to try and get him and David together as if they were living in some sort of John Hughes film or something. But Pretty in Pink this was not and Cook almost felt dirty (in a moralistic sort of way this time) even considering the idea. David was young, painfully innocent and probably straight for goodness sake. This wasn't exactly the kind of situation in which he'd normally exert himself romantically. And David was his student, which despite Van Halen's insistence that it was sorta hot to fancy one's teacher, Cook felt creepy thinking about it now.
And yet, even as Mike and Carly continued to chuckle and whisper to one another, Cook had to admit that they had been right out one thing: David was terribly cute. As he recalled the kid's sharply pressed pants, nervous hands and winning smile, the strange, numbing tingle returned to Cook's chest. He wasn't precisely certain what it meant or where it was coming from, but he did know that it scared him more than he'd ever like to admit.
♥
PART FOUR: Falling Leaf --->
[title] AVALANCHE: Drop In [3/?]
[author] kissontheneck [aka fieryrogue]
[pairing] Cookleta, Marly UST, bromance!Mavid
[beta] jehane18, my snow angel. ♥
[rating] PG
[word count] 2921
[summary] David is on a nice holiday ski trip with his family. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to ski, but a couple private lessons should remedy that problem.
[disclaimer] Surely, I have nothing to do with either of these fine young men, no matter how much I wish I did.
[warnings] Jovial harassment, bad table manners
[author's notes] I don't know why I struggled with this part, but I did. It's actually part of the reason it took me so long to get it out, aside from lots of school work and such. My girl Jay edited, I cleaned up, but then I didn't show her again afterward so if there's anything miserable you should blame me. (Always, always blame me.) There might even be entire sentences that she wrote in here, but don't tell her that. ;) Also, at this rate you guys are going to have the same story from me for years and years to come. I mean, even soap operas are daily, geez. My summer is free though so we'll see what happens. (I won't say "I'll try harder to write more!" because those sorts of statements always get me into trouble. LOL.)
LOOK, I HAZ A BANNER NAO.
PART ONE: Milk Run
PART TWO: Fresh Powder
PART THREE:
AVALANCHE: Drop In
Even from across the dining room, Cook can see the glint in Michael's eye. The way his Aussie friend smiles widely the whole time Carly is talking and how she herself kind of bounces as she mindlessly waves her fork in the air, gesticulating to emphasize her speech. Her hair falls in her eyes as she laughs at a comment Mike makes and he reaches out carefully to pull the lock of soft black hair from falling into her iced tea.
It's absolutely disgusting.
To be fair, Cook doesn't mind his two best friends being into one another. Really, he finds them well-suited and is amused by their ongoing shyness in the presence of anyone besides themselves. Both have tough exteriors they work hard to protect, and showing their romantic sides in any way is embarrassing to them, even if the whole wide world already knows better. But if Cook is honest with himself (which is rare sometimes, since he too has a reputation to uphold, after all), it makes him uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because it's extremely difficult for him to even hope for a relationship up on this mountain, let alone actually secure one. The tourists come and go, making it nearly impossible to even tell if they're playing on the same team as he is, and only sets him up for heartbreak when they have to leave. At best he's managed a few make-out sessions, but in the end he knows he's not really one for a life of one night stands. The staff is out of the question, they're like family to him, not to mention life on the mountain is like living in a small town where everybody knows your business. So he sort of decided awhile ago that he's monogamous with the mountain, and happily so.
Carly is blushing into her chicken salad as Cook comes up on their table, and Mike is caught off guard fiddling with his water glass when Cook unceremoniously shoves his friend over in the booth, simultaneously reaching to steal one of his fries. Mike gives him a hard look, which Cook ignores and he smiles broadly at the girl who is exactly the type of girl he'd be into, if he were into that sort of thing. (Incidentally, Mike is exactly the kind of guy Cook would be into, if Mike were into that sort of thing.)
"You guys ordered without me again," Cook says, now fighting Mike for his soda which Mike is pointlessly attempting to guard. "I'm starting to think you don't like me."
Cook catches the look Carly shoots Michael, the look that he's not so dumb to misinterpret. It's a look that kind of mixes annoyance with pity, but Cook has become an expert at denying that he really is in the way sometimes.
Pushing her half-empty plate away from her, Carly rests her chin on her hand and looks at Cook, her lips pressed thinly together.
"How'd your day go with Tripsy McFallerton?" she inquires as he immediately takes to poking at her discarded meal. "Do you ever eat your own meals?" she adds, eying him.
"What?" Cook replies, a large chunk of grilled chicken nearly hanging out of his mouth. "Were you not done?"
"I guess I am now," Carly says, finally chuckling gently.
"For your information, he's improving quite nicely," Cook answers. He can see now why Carly abandoned what was left of her salad; his mouth seizes up around the dry meat as he makes an expression of absolute disgust. Stealing another swig of Mike's soda, Cook forces himself to swallow the whole mess before pushing the plate away and continuing. "He was reluctant at first, but once I gave him the old David Cook encouragement, he only fell three or four more times."
Both Carly and Mike break into sharp laughter at this statement and Cook grins into the glass of half-drunk soda he's cradling between his fingers.
"Tell me, mate," Mike struggles to get out between chuckles, "is he going to make it to a bunny slope before his vacation is over or are we just chalking this one up to raking in easy cash from a rich dad?"
"Dang it, Johns," Cook replies, narrowing his brow at his friend. "I take this job very seriously! We made it to the bunny slope, thank you very much, and he's doing quite well. That is, after he got done apologizing to that little girl he collided with on the first run."
Cook did not share the renewed laughter that boiled up again, and in response he moodily gnawed on the end of his soda straw. It was true that David proved to be nearly hopeless on skis, and there wasn't much proof so far that the kid would advance much before he'd have to go home again. Historically, the only way the three of them got through their days sometimes was the ability to make fun of their less successful charges. But something about David made it seem really unfair to do so in his case. He showed a lot of determination once he received the right encouragement, and frankly Cook felt a little sorry for him. It had become painfully clear during their lesson that David tried really hard to please others, even when it was obvious that he was miserable. Cook felt badly about this, honestly, and was tempted to tell David that it wouldn't hurt his feelings if he didn't want to look at another ski for the rest of his life. However, he'd already committed himself to the kid so he also felt like it'd be worse making such a proposition, giving the impression that he was giving up on him easily. No, Cook liked following through on his promises, and he was going to do just that.
"David? Cook! Are you with us, buddy?"
Cook blinked as Mike snapped his fingers in front of his face, startling him back to reality. Carly gazed across the table at him, her head cocked to the side as if she were trying to figure out his thoughts.
"You've been holding that french fry aloft for way too long," she said. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
"What?" Cook replied, staring at the limp stick of potato clutched between his fingers. "Nothing, just... gah, these are cold now," he added after shoving the same fry into his mouth. Without thinking he drug his hand across his shirt, apparently forgetting the invention called the napkin.
"Hey, let me out," Mike suddenly requested, pushing at Cook's shoulder. "Despite the fact that you stole half my soda, I've gotta piss like a racehorse."
"So glad to see you're picking up American idioms," Cook replied, scooting along the bench as Mike shoved. "Makes you sound nice and crude... like a proper American."
"I just wanna be like you," Mike sang, batting his eyelashes. "Come on, move your sweet ass before I pee on you. Unless you're into that."
Fortunately, Cook was already sliding off the end of the bench seat before such a thing could come to pass. "Not usually," he answered, "but for you I might make an exception."
Mike, now on his feet, gave his friend a strange look as he patted him on the shoulder. "You're a peculiar creature, David Cook. Keep my seat warm."
Cook rolled his eyes as he resumed his seat, immediately turning his attention to Carly across from him. "What do you see in that guy, anyway?"
Carly stared at him like a deer in headlights. "What?" she sputtered, sitting up straighter. "What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, sorry," Cook replied, rolling his eyes. "I forgot I'm supposed to pretend that I don't notice the two of you making out with your eyes all the time." Cook flashed his crooked grin at her.
"Michael and I are friends," Carly replied even as Cook found enjoyment in her panic-filled eyes. "Very good friends."
"Uh huh," Cook chuckled, squinting his eyes. "With benefits?"
Carly looked absolutely horror-striken. Her mouth opened and closed several times though no sound ever managed to come out of it, and this display only made Cook laugh harder.
"Come on," he said, "I share a living space with the guy. I know things."
"Did he say something?" Carly quickly asked in a hushed tone, her eyes flashing. "What's he saying, I'll kill him!"
Despite Carly's obvious eagerness to keep things quiet, Cook couldn't help but explode with laughter. "Shoot, nothing," he answered, rubbing his fingers across his eyes, "but now you just told on yourself."
The stare Cook got just about pinned him to the wall. Carly’s icy looks made her crystal blue glare intimidating to the uninitiated. If Cook hadn't known her for several years now, he might have felt badly, but since he was used to getting this arresting glare from her nearly every day, he merely smiled at her pleasantly.
"Nothing is going on," Carly emphasized, still gazing at Cook unblinking. "There might be, you know, some things I like about Michael. I don't know." She paused and her eyes softened. "Has he said anything about me? Do you think he likes me?"
"Hell, I don't know," Cook lied, because to him it was pretty obvious. "You're adorable right now though, all giddy about liking a boy. Gosh, it's like third grade all over again or something."
With that Carly stiffened, again regaining her serious composure. Her eyes darted to somewhere over Cook's shoulder and a small smile broke the corners of her mouth.
"Speaking of giddy little girls," she said slyly, "don't look now, but your boyfriend just walked in."
Cook whirled around in his seat to look behind him, and sure enough, an entire group of people who looked so much like David that Cook could have picked them out on the street hovered by the entry of the dining area. Cook watched the family closely as they stood waiting for the host to find a table able to accommodate seven people. David had four siblings, each of them as dramatically beautiful as their mother, and Cook found himself strangely captivated by the whole clan. He realized he was staring when his eyes suddenly locked with David's and he strained to look away before it seemed creepy and awkward. Awkward, however, seemed to be how David functioned best and he smiled politely at Cook, giving a small wave. Something about that smile made Cook's heart sting in a way that almost scared him, and he immediately attempted to ignore it. Carly, on the other hand, had a different idea.
Cook had turned his head back just far enough to catch Carly grinning like an idiot and making a sweeping beckoning motion with her hand towards David. Cook blinked speechlessly at her a second before again looking in David's direction in time to see his eyes go wide, whisper something to his mom and then begin to cross the dining room, which now suddenly seemed a lot smaller to Cook for some reason.
"Hi," David said timidly once he'd reached the edge of the table. Clearly not knowing what to do with his hands, David moved them alternately from the table's edge, to his pockets, to crossing his arms in front of him and then back to his pockets again. Again Cook lost himself in observation as he realized that he'd only really seen David buried in snow gear all day and hadn't seen normal parts of him like his hands or his forehead. The student now stood before his instructor in dark, pressed slacks, a button-up shirt, a sports jacket and black Converse. David had also molded his jet black hair into something of a peak atop his head and Cook instinctively pushed his own stubby (dirty) fingers through his own stringy (dirty) hair, suddenly feeling like something of a lowly (dirty) pauper. Carly continued to beam at them both.
"How was your lesson today, David?" Carly inquired, suddenly more charming than Cook had ever known her to be. She batted her eyelashes at the boy and rested her chin into the palm of her hand. "Cook was just starting to tell me."
In response, David shuffled nervously, shifting his weight from one side to the other. He chuckled oddly and then stammered, "Oh, great! Um, David... er, Cook? He's a great teacher. I'm sure he's better with people who aren't totally uncoordinated though, but I did manage to ski the length of the practice slope without falling over before the end of the day, ha ha!"
"Fantastic!" Carly said delightfully, that peculiar grin still permanently painted on her face. It was a look that Cook associated with mischievousness, which he kind of didn't like at all.
Cook, now feeling like he should take charge of the conversation before something awful happened, and also that he should say anything at all since he hadn't yet, opened his mouth to do just that. Unfortunately, it also happened to be at exactly the same time that Mike returned from his journey to the men's room, he also wearing a smile that matched Carly's as if they were twins. Just as words were finally making their way to Cook's lips, Mike clapped David hard on the shoulder, causing David to jump as if he'd just taken a firm grip on an electric fence.
"Hey!" Mike bellowed, his Australian accent strong even in the one word. "Is this the man we've been hearing so much about? David, right? Mike. It's unfortunate that you didn't get me as your instructor, but sadly I'm on another assignment right now. But Cook's almost as good as me, so I think you'll be all right out there on the treacherous slopes, huh?"
David looked a little bewildered and Cook could have sworn the color had gone out of his evenly-tanned cheeks. Mike was a little much to suddenly take in all at once, especially for a nervous little person like David. Besides, Mike had just used the word treacherous in front of an already anxious, doubtful student and Cook may well have liked to strangle his best friend right then.
"David," Carly spoke up, succeeding in cutting off Cook's attempt to speak again, "why don't you join us? Michael and I have eaten already, but Cook hasn't, so--"
"Oh, that'd be nice," David answered quickly, taking one hand out of his pocket and gesturing aimlessly. "But I really couldn't--"
"David! Come on now, they've got our table! David!"
The shock of the bellowing man's voice pierced Cook's nerves, and by the looks on Mike's and Carly's faces it'd had the same effect on them. David stiffened and snapped his attention like an army recruit before calling back, "Coming, Dad!"
Glancing back at his three companions, David forced a friendly smile before explaining, "My dad. I better go." His eyes met Cook's again and Cook could have sworn the corners of the kid's mouth wavered as he said, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
Cook nodded lamely just as David's dad bellowed across the restaurant again, to which David sheepishly departed. Cook found himself watching his student's retreat until he couldn't see him any longer before returning his attention to his friends.
"Shoot," Mike said, now pushing at Carly to scoot over so he could sit down next to her. "Carly's right, he's awfully cute. Like a puppy."
A strange, snorting laugh came from Carly and she quickly bit her lip to try and hide it. Cook narrowed his eyes at them both. His Don't Trust These Two Jokers radar pinged relentlessly in his brain.
"All right, what are you two up to?" Cook demanded. He attempted to stare Carly down, but she only giggled into her glass of iced tea and concentrated on the melting ice cubes. "What was said before I got here?"
"Nothing!" Carly insisted, rattling the ice with her straw gently. "I just said he was cute. Is that so wrong?"
"Nothing wrong with that," Mike echoed. Cook could feel his best friend's eyes on him and when he finally relented to the stare, he was met with Mike gazing at him across the table, smiling at him like a cartoon character.
Cook tried to make a face that conveyed his annoyance with their childish behavior. Obviously there had been a conversation he had missed out on, one that probably involved some crazy scheme to try and get him and David together as if they were living in some sort of John Hughes film or something. But Pretty in Pink this was not and Cook almost felt dirty (in a moralistic sort of way this time) even considering the idea. David was young, painfully innocent and probably straight for goodness sake. This wasn't exactly the kind of situation in which he'd normally exert himself romantically. And David was his student, which despite Van Halen's insistence that it was sorta hot to fancy one's teacher, Cook felt creepy thinking about it now.
And yet, even as Mike and Carly continued to chuckle and whisper to one another, Cook had to admit that they had been right out one thing: David was terribly cute. As he recalled the kid's sharply pressed pants, nervous hands and winning smile, the strange, numbing tingle returned to Cook's chest. He wasn't precisely certain what it meant or where it was coming from, but he did know that it scared him more than he'd ever like to admit.
♥
PART FOUR: Falling Leaf --->