Post by Mizagium on Jan 5, 2010 16:03:48 GMT -5
It was sometime in the afternoon when Natalie opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the patio. Ryan was seated in a lawn chair, engrossed in his latest fantasy novel.
"You're reading again?"
"I could be inside. On the computer," he offered, not taking his eyes off the age, not missing a word.
She considered this, agreed, and sat in another chair. After a minute she pulled her brown hair up into a ponytail. It was hot. Summer was a killer. She much preferred the cold and the snow like they got up north. Down here it was way too hot for her liking.
"It's hot," she said.
"Put shorts on," Ryan said, again, not looking up.
"No, I like jeans."
"Then don't complain about the heat."
"But it is hot."
Ryan sighed and kept reading; arguing with his sister would get him nowhere. Her logic continued to baffle him, a rational person. But after so many years, he'd learned to live with it. "What time is it?"
"Dunno." She looked back through the door, to the kitchen. "Two."
"They oughta be showing up soon." Ryan finished his page, marked it with a bookmark (one of his own design: a slip of paper with the title of the book) and set it on his lap. He was wearing shorts.
"You know none of us is ever on time," Natalie pointed out.
"With all those band kids, you'd think one of 'em would be," he said with a grin. He rubbed - miffled, his friends called it - his dark brown hair. Hot. Dark hair collected summer heat like a magnet iron. Even in the shade.
"Are you ever on time?"
"Of course."
"Right. 'Cause you're a drummer."
"Percussionist," he corrected.
"Same thing," she said, agitated. He always corrected her.
"No, it's not."
Before she could respond, there came the sound of someone shouting a greeting. Like a squeak. Ryan watched passively as Becca rushed into view and embraced Natalie. He smiled inwardly at their bizarre greeting ritual, the only trace of girlishness found in either of them, at least as far as he could tell.
When they were finished, he pulled his legs up and let his girlfriend sit.
"Ha," she said, triumphantly.
"'Ha' what?"
"I got here first. You said I'd be last."
"Guess I was wrong, then," he said, pretending impassiveness. Badly. A wide grin spread across his face.
Becca grinned smugly at him for a moment before it faltered into a matching grin.
Natalie averted her eyes as the two shared a quick kiss.
"I had to run to beat Alan," she admitted.
"You're reading again?"
"I could be inside. On the computer," he offered, not taking his eyes off the age, not missing a word.
She considered this, agreed, and sat in another chair. After a minute she pulled her brown hair up into a ponytail. It was hot. Summer was a killer. She much preferred the cold and the snow like they got up north. Down here it was way too hot for her liking.
"It's hot," she said.
"Put shorts on," Ryan said, again, not looking up.
"No, I like jeans."
"Then don't complain about the heat."
"But it is hot."
Ryan sighed and kept reading; arguing with his sister would get him nowhere. Her logic continued to baffle him, a rational person. But after so many years, he'd learned to live with it. "What time is it?"
"Dunno." She looked back through the door, to the kitchen. "Two."
"They oughta be showing up soon." Ryan finished his page, marked it with a bookmark (one of his own design: a slip of paper with the title of the book) and set it on his lap. He was wearing shorts.
"You know none of us is ever on time," Natalie pointed out.
"With all those band kids, you'd think one of 'em would be," he said with a grin. He rubbed - miffled, his friends called it - his dark brown hair. Hot. Dark hair collected summer heat like a magnet iron. Even in the shade.
"Are you ever on time?"
"Of course."
"Right. 'Cause you're a drummer."
"Percussionist," he corrected.
"Same thing," she said, agitated. He always corrected her.
"No, it's not."
Before she could respond, there came the sound of someone shouting a greeting. Like a squeak. Ryan watched passively as Becca rushed into view and embraced Natalie. He smiled inwardly at their bizarre greeting ritual, the only trace of girlishness found in either of them, at least as far as he could tell.
When they were finished, he pulled his legs up and let his girlfriend sit.
"Ha," she said, triumphantly.
"'Ha' what?"
"I got here first. You said I'd be last."
"Guess I was wrong, then," he said, pretending impassiveness. Badly. A wide grin spread across his face.
Becca grinned smugly at him for a moment before it faltered into a matching grin.
Natalie averted her eyes as the two shared a quick kiss.
"I had to run to beat Alan," she admitted.
