Not-A-Date?

Who: Thom and Leija
When: noonish
Where: Park first, then the Pasta Shop

Leija had spent an inordinate amount of time getting dressed. All the while, reminding herself that this was just lunch, they weren't going to prom or anything, and he'd probably decide he didn't like her anyway and it would all be over soon. Still. She settled on a pair of jeans that weren't all worn out and a nice top. It wasn't something she'd wear to church -- if she went to church -- but it was a smidge too nice for school. Well, for her usual school style, so. Lots of hair-brushing and a squirt of vanilla-pear body spray later, she felt ... ready enough, she supposed. She snagged a jacket since the weather felt like it was trying to turn, and left the house. The walk to the entrance to Trowbridge Park was swift and laced with the mantra that he might not even be there and wouldn't that make things a lot easier? But she kept a neutral expression on her face, just in case.

As it happened, he was there, Thom not generally being the kind of person to ever be late for anything unless unavoidable disaster struck. He was annoyingly organised like that. So he was already waiting at the park gates when she arrived, dressed in faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt, with a shirt hanging loose over the top. He'd considered a jacket, but left without one. Looking at the weather, he was beginning to think that had been a bad idea - hopefully it wouldn't actually rain though. He caught sight of her walking down the sidewalk towards him and headed to meet her. At least she'd turned up - that was a start. "Hey," he said - biting back the 'you made it then'. Wouldn't have been the best of greetings. "How're you today?" he asked her, hovering, unsure if he needed to add anything. He didn't know her well enough for physical contact, he was sure - but he wondered if she knew that, or if she was going to turn out to be the huggy type. See, you don't even know that about her! Today Thom was firmly ignoring his inner voice.

She was pretty well the exact opposite of the huggy type, so Leija made no move to lavish him with physical affection. She did smile, however, and it was genuine. The little flutter her stomach gave reminded her that part of her had been looking forward to this all night and all morning. She wasn't sure if it would win out over her reservations, but ... she'd said yes for a reason. "Hi," she responded, hugging her jacket to her stomach. Just in case he wanted to do the hugging. No, thanks, not yet. "Not too bad. You?" She chuckled a little, deciding that the true answer of 'a nervous wreck' wouldn't be terribly attractive. She tucked some red hair behind one ear and looked at him. He looked nice. Very normal and nice.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said. Okay, so, this is the awkward greeting phase. This is normal - always happens. Go with it, come up with something to say, get passed it, it'll be fine... "So, erm - I thought we could go to the pasta shop - it's this little place, not too far - the food's great." He looked at her for her approval. He'd figured that there'd be no point asking her where she wanted to go, since she probably-definitely didn't know anywhere, what with her being new in town and everything. So, confident choosing-for-them.

"That sounds great," Leija answered with another smile. She liked pasta. But that would be a moronic thing to say, so she didn't. Who doesn't like pasta? Argh, stupid. She stood there for an awkward second until Thom started to walk, then fell into step beside him. What was she supposed to say? Ask him questions about the fifteen-or-so hours it had been since they'd gotten off the phone? Ask him if this was a date? Should she have worn a skirt? Did she look okay? Was the teensy bit of lipgloss too much? This was hard. "So ... are there a lot of good places to eat around here? My dad ... doesn't cook much, we tend to get takeout a lot, is why I ask," she added with a nervous little laugh.

Okay, score one for not picking something she was going to hate on sight - but then again, he'd figured that pasta would be a safe bet. Everyone liked pasta, didn't they? He noticed the nervous laugh, but decided it was best to ignore it. "Yeah, there's actually quite a few great places. My mom and I do take out quite a lot as well - she works," he explained, wondering if it would sound weird if he told her that he did a lot of the cooking. Some girls looked at him strangely if he said that, as though all teenage guys should have the culinary skills of a dead rat.

She nodded her understanding. There had been plenty of times when Leija got sick of eating things out of boxes, and tried her hand at cooking. There was never much success, however. Mostly just burnt grilled cheese and tomato soup with not enough milk in it. "I'll have to get a list of phone numbers from you," she said, tilting a small smile up at him. God, she sounded like a tardo. She told herself to shut up and just concentrate on walking.

"Sure - I'll put one together for you. Do you mind collecting, or do you only work on places that'll deliver?" he asked her. He could maybe do two lists, divided up by types - he could email it to her. If she had email - didn't everyone have email? Maybe she didn't. Or wouldn't want to give her address out. He'd ask later, once he knew her a little better. But so far - lookit! She wasn't showing signs of being a screaming psycho.

"Either-or, I like to get out sometimes," she told him. "I don't mind walking to get something." Yeah, because she could fly and thusly thought she was justified and perfectly safe wandering around a town she didn't know alone at night. And I like puppies and long walks on the beach, what's your favorite movie? she snarked in her head. How did people do this all the time? Just the suggestion that this might be a D-word was nerve-wracking. "Do you live ... close to the park?" Because if he could walk to food, so could she. Unless he drove. Which he might. He was a senior, after all. Was he eighteen? Was this even legal? Not that ... anything was happening ...

"Not, not really," Thom admitted. "Or, well - at all really. Lower Harbour's closer, but I don't have that much to do in summer - which generally leads me to wandering around. This summer I kinda got settled in Trowbridge, though if this weather's gonna stay, that's gonna stop cos, yeah - not really 'park' weather somehow. I live out on Ridge. How about you?" he asked her.

Ridge, Ridge, Ridge ... did she know where that was? She thought she might. Not like she would be going to his house or anything. Probably. She wondered at the faint coil of disappointment that he wouldn't be out her direction much longer. You? Idiot. "I live up on Cherry Street," she answered. "Just north. Of Trowbridge." Which he probably knew already.

He chuckled a little. "Yeah - I know Cherry." And she probably has no idea where Ridge is - idiot! "Ridge - actually, Ridge runs along the south side of Trowbridge, so if you followed it all the way towards the lake, you'd eventually get to my house. I'm over on East Ridge." The big houses, but let's not mention that, right? Because you'll sound like you're bragging or something.

Leija found herself weirdly pleased that he more or less told her where he lived. At least he didn't think she was a crazy stalker or anything. Why he would possibly think that was beyond her, but it still felt like a valid concern. Even though she wasn't supposed to be hoping for that sort of stuff. She nodded at the directions. "Can you see the lake from there?" she asked. "I bet it's pretty." And this is quite possibly the lamest first-date conversation ever.

"Yeah - you can. The land kinda drops away and there's a view right out over the lake. It's great. Like on July 4th weekend, you can sit in the back yard and watch all the displays going on? There's always fireworks going off across the water," he told her with some enthusiasm - not that Thom was prone to gushing about very many things. She probably doesn't want to hear this - the view from your back yard does not make for a stimulating conversation topic! "So, tell me about where you're from - or is 'mountains and coal mines' really all there is to it?" he asked.

"That's mostly it," she said with a rueful little laugh. "I mean ... the mountains were nice and all, the Pocanos are pretty much beautiful. It wasn't bad being so close to everything up there, me and dad went to New York and D.C. quite a bit, when he had a free weekend. Like, just two-day trips and stuff. The museums were to die for. If, y'know, you ... are into that kind of thing." Which she was, and had quite possibly given herself away as a complete nerd just then. "But Wilkes-Barre itself ... just a small town that was nice to look at when it snowed."

Thom looked across at her as she spoke, smiling a little. "Are you are then," he stated. "Into that kind of thing?" he clarified - because, hey, he wanted to know more about the girl he was with - call him old fashioned.

A teensy bit of color came into her cheeks. "Yeah," she admitted. "I'm sorta into history? And looking at stuff that I know has survived so many years ... with everyone who's touched it that's gone now and all the things it's seen but is silent about ... I dunno, it's ... interesting to me." She paused to give him a glance. Was he ready to go home yet? Leija shrugged a shoulder. "It's pretty dorky, I know."

"What makes you say that?" he asked her. "I think we can all be dorky about some things. Like I can go on about music until you'd be screaming for me to stop. It's just all a matter of perspective. There's nothing inherently dorky about having an interest in history. And I've never really thought about it in that way," he admitted as they approached the Pasta Shop. "The whole 'who's touched it and what it's seen' thing. That's an interesting way of looking at it."

Leija flushed more and felt ... warm. For other reasons than all the blood rushing to her face. Okay, so he didn't think she was an insufferable nerd. That was a good start. He just seemed so ... cool. She spotted the sign for where they were supposed to be going and felt a bit of her relax. At least there would be normal restaurant-things to do now. "I could go on all day about music too," she chuckled, dimpling slightly at him. "Now, put me in front of an instrument with history? I'm a happy girl. ... are you into anything else? Besides music?"

Thom had been brought up to be polite and so he stepped up and opened the door to the restaurant for her, letting her walk in. It was a tiny place - just a handful of tables and, today, there didn't seem to be anyone else around. "Well, it takes up a large chunk of my time," he admitted - but she'd probably noticed that already. "I like to read as well." Okay, so now you're sounding boring. Not good.

"Oh yeah?" Leija asked, passing by him. Her traitor arm noticed the warmth he gave off as she passed by. Which was not something she should be thinking about in any way, shape, or form. She looked back around at him as he followed her inside. "What do you read?" It wasn't boring to her, not yet. Unless he read Jane Austen novels, then she might have an issue.

He hadn't expected her to jump on that - though probably he should have done. And suddenly he realised that he'd backed himself into another corner - since what he read most of at the moment was books on magic. Thom didn't really look like the kind of guy who'd practice magic, but he had done so - if only on a limited basis - for the past couple of years. He was definitely still learning, which meant that it was taking up all of the time that he could spare from the band and from writing. He was trying to get a good grounding in protection spells, minor wards, maybe a few defensive spells. His mother had warned him off black magic and absolutely forbidden him from even looking at blood magic, but she'd given him a couple of pointers on white magic spells with a hint that more might be coming his way when she could work it in and in the meantime he'd sourced some books and was trying to teach himself - slow going.

But, of course, he couldn't actually discuss that with her. Somehow he didn't think 'Yeah, I'm into magic. no, not the magician 'pulling bunnies out of a hat' kind, the real kind' would go down so well. Not even Isaac knew and he told that guy everything. Thom used the time walking over to the table to come up with a more socially acceptable answer. "Would I go right down in your estimation if I said that generally it's whatever my mom happens to leave lying around?" he asked her, figuring that it was better to sound sad than to sound crazy. And it was almost the truth - some of the magic books he'd hooked from his mom's study, after all. "She's the real reader in the family, so if there's something she's liked, she generally passes it on." He smiled a little and chuckled. "And by 'pass it on' what I really mean is 'leaves it outside my door with a note on it saying Thomas, take a break from the music and do something else for a while. Reading: it's good for you!'," he explained - which was also the truth, Ashbelle Harkin had done that to him a few times in his life.

As she took a seat at the table with him, Leija laughed. She suddenly thought she might like his mom, if they ever crossed paths. Not that he would be taking her home any time soon or anything, just ... yeah. The redhead settled in, draping her jacket over the back of her chair. She rubbed her arms just a bit -- since she hadn't been wearing it -- and picked up a menu. "I'm usually the one having to do that for my dad," she said with a little rueful smile. "Only it's more like 'stop listening to performances that you have to grade and eat something'." She looked amused. She read everything about religion and death she could get her hands on, which ranged from medical journals straight through to occult philosophy. But that was a bit macabre, wasn't it? "But no, you're still fine in my estimation," she added, crinkling her nose up at him briefly. "As long as it's not like ... V.C. Andrews 'Flowers in the Attic' type stuff she leaves laying around. Then I might have to decide that your taste is kind of questionable."

Thom returned the laugh, relaxing slightly as it broke through the slight awkwardness that they'd been existing in. "Well, so far I haven't been as bad as forgetting to eat, but, yeah... I can be kinda single minded if I'm left to it," he admitted. "And no, I think mom would have a coronary if a V.C. Andrews book ever got passed our front door. Truth be told, she can be a bit of a literary snob at times," he admitted with a grin. "All classics and anything she things will be a classic in the future. But she has fair taste, so I sometimes take up what she leaves for me." he shut up at that, feeling bad for exaggerating. "So, you sound like you kinda take care of your dad. Like, not care care, but... I'm not making a huge amount of sense right now, am I?" he added, pulling a face and wondering if he should start again. He picked up a menu as a distraction, making it clear that he was picking up the menu cos he felt like he'd goofed, laughing a little at himself.

Leija grinned at him across the table. It was more than a little comforting to see his own sort of awkwardness. It made her feel much more on the ball and capable with all this, because she was pretty sure this wasn't something he did all the time. Unless it was a big act or something. In which case, he'd have a black eye if she ever found out about it. "Not a huge amount," she agreed with some teasing in her tone. "But enough that I can decipher your guy-speak. He does pretty well on his own, enough to get by, but ... sometimes he forgets things. And now he doesn't have my aunts hovering over him anymore, so I kind of have to pick up the slack. In the form of laundry and ordering out and making sure the doors are locked at night, stuff like that. Is your mom pretty self-sufficient?" She was curious, since they seemed to be in the same brand of situation where family was concerned.

He cocked an eyebrow at 'guy speak' - his expression enough comment on that remark. "Mom? Yeah, I guess she's pretty self-sufficient," he told her. "If I wasn't here, she'd do okay and all." They had a housekeeper come in to take care of the cleaning and the majority of the laundry, so that wasn't an issue. And Ashbelle did a shop once a week, so groceries were covered. "Mostly it tends to work that she takes care of her and I take care of me. Which sounds like an odd set up, but we've made it work. We leave notes for each other a lot," he added, which they did - endless damn notes. There was a lot of paper in the Harkin house.

She nodded, smiled, and was tempted to ask what his mom did for a living, but parents weren't really date-conversation material. Not that she really knew what was. She kind of liked that eyebrow thing he did, though. Dammit. It occurred to her that he was inadvertently saying he was alone a lot. Leija looked over her menu, promptly ignoring that thought. She'd hardly known him for twenty-four hours, after all. Menus were good, they were about food and not about cute boys and a lack of ideas on what to say to them. There had to be manuals for this kind of thing, right? Somewhere? She would have to find out.

Thom, meanwhile, wasn't looking at his menu. He was watching her, an amused smile on his face, because he was fairly sure that there'd been something she hadn't quite said then. It was the way she was suddenly studying her menu. She definitely was cute, he decided. In a delicate, kinda fragile sort of way - though for all that, she didn't look like she'd break too easily. He cocked a half smile, then realised he was staring. "The fettuchini's good," he offered.

Leija looked up. She sort of assumed that he'd been menu-perusing too, but he was kind of looking at her like hadn't been. Like you know what people look like when they're looking at you when you're not looking. Or ... yeah. She gave him a smile that was a teensy bit shy. "Yeah?" she asked rhetorically, looking for the fettuchini. Subconsciously, she checked the price. It wasn't too bad, really. "Okay. On your recommendation." She closed the menu and put it down, dropping her hands into her lap. "If it sucks, you owe me ice cream." She flashed him a quick grin.

"Yeah - and if it doesn't suck? Do I get anything in return?" he teased. "It would seem only fair - or I might stop recommending things to you, if there's nothing in it for me..." He smirked and then turned to give the waitress their order before turning back to her, clearly waiting for her answer.

Her stomach turned (again) in a pleasant sort of way and she stalled enough to give the waitress her order as well. She leveled her hazel eyes on Thom again and arched an eyebrow. "Oh we're playing this game again?" she posed, smirking herself. "You've already got my glorious company for lunch, what more could you possibly need?" She tried to keep a straight face and failed miserably.

He looked at her and frowned, play acting at looking serious. "You know? You're right - my life? Is now complete. I can't see where I could possibly go from here - lunch with you is the pinnacle of my very existence." He dropped the act and grinned slightly. "How about an answer that isn't 'what's it worth'?" he challenged. Cos, hell, he couldn't go through that again!

"Oh, of course," she deadpanned along with him, stalling on giving a real answer some more. "It's not every day you get to dine with such ..." her eyes ticked to the side and she just had to laugh. "Something. Okay. Hmm. What would I owe you. And no 'what's it worth' answers." She looked at him and gave her best approximation of a pout. Which was really pretty good. "But those are so fun and telling," she play-whined. "How about ... a dramatic poetry reading?" she grabbed just off the top of her head. He wanted her to play for him, she had a sneaking suspicion, but she wanted him to say so first.

He cocked his eyebrow again, seemingly musing this as he considered the really quite attractive pout. "A dramatic poetry reading?" he asked her. "Interesting. I don't think I've ever had a girl offer me a dramatic poetry reading before..." he admitted, fairly sure that she wasn't actually serious and incapable of not teasing her with the suggestion that he might actually take her up on it.

Leija was grinning and laughing soundlessly. He could play. She really liked that. Hell, she needed that. She serioused up her face a bit, though her eyes were still dancing, and straightened up in her seat. "Oh you have to try it sometime," she said, even putting her nose in the air just a little. "It's divinely ... stimulating." One of her eyebrows arched again. The expression was ruined by her red cheeks, but hey. Why not.

"Stimulating, eh?" Thom asked, getting into this now. "Well, how could I ever resist such a... recommendation. Surely this is something that I must experience." He managed a high brow tone, though his mouth was twitching with suppressed laughter and his brown eyes were sparkling with mirth.

She even went so far as to give him a little limp-wristed hand-wave, oblivious to even the idea that they looked crazy to any observers. Leija? So didn't care. "Oh dahling, you'll simply be blown away," she told him. She lost it in a brief bout of snickery laughter, then got herself under control again. "I'll have my people get with your people and we shall make your life complete." She lifted her water glass with pinky firmly pointed out and took a sip.

He couldn't hold his laughter when she started, but then it'd been a close run thing holding it back moments before then. He leaned forward, propping his head up on interlaced fingers as he looked across the table at her, his laughter having died down to simply a look of amusement. "Would you really want to read me dramatic poetry?" he asked her.

Oh wow. Nobody had ever looked at her like that before. She managed to keep herself from beaming back at him stupidly and ran her teeth over her bottom lip. "It's possible," she said, smiling despite herself. She glanced from one side to another and leaned forward, dropping her voice into a stage whisper. "I even have a Shakespeare hat," she admitted.

"A Shakespeare hat?" he asked, not moving from his position, though he definitely looked intrigued. "And what, may I ask, is a Shakespeare hat?"

"Well, it's kind of triangular and made out of purple crushed velvet, and it's got a gigantic baby-blue feather in it," she explained, looking on the verge of cracking up again. "It's quite dashing, really. If you think you can control yourself while I wear it, I'll show it to you." Leija grinned.

He bit his lip to stop from laughing, trying desperately to work out if she was joking. And whether, if she wasn't, it was totally endearing, or ridiculously stupid. Possibly it was both. Luckily, he didn't have to answer straight off as their food arrived, but once the waitress had gone again, he said, musingly. "So, if that fettuchini's good, what you're offering me is you, wearing a purple, triangular, crushed velvet hat - with a gigantic, baby blue feather in it - and a dramatic poetry reading?" he asked, figuring he should nail her down on specifics.

"Yes," she answered definitively. She likely wouldn't get through a single stanza before she had a stroke from laughing too much, but the prospect of even that was awesome. "And if this fettuchini sucks? ... you have to buy me ice cream." Leija tilted her head and made a face. "I should've asked for something better." She leaned down a touch and sniffed the air above her meal. Then looked at Thom a little despondently. "I think I'm doomed to a ridiculous hat and poetry," she said, picking up her fork.

He didn't touch his own food, still watching her as he was. And he knew he wouldn't eat until he had his answer. And he knew what it would be - their fettuchini really was excellent. But he had a feeling that he'd be buying her ice cream anyway. Just a feeling like that. It had a whole lot to do with the fact he was actually enjoying himself.

Leija gave him a Look for watching her, and held up her free hand between her fork and his line of sight. She took a bite. Yes. Very doomed. She chewed and looked at him with a food-distorted smirk. After swallowing and another sip of water happened, she flashed him a grin. "You can stop gloating now," she told him. "You get to see me look silly, it probably won't be the first time." If, y'know ... you don't think I'm retarded yet.

When she put up a hand, Thom had made a show of craning his neck to watch her eat, a knowing smile on his face. Once she spoke, he laughed and leaned back in his chair, picking up his fork to start in on his own meal. "Not the first time?" he asked, lifting a forkful. "I don't believe I've seen you look silly yet, have I?" he asked, before eating.

Did she say first? She'd meant last. Leija took another bite before pointing her fork at him. "There was my face's illustrious introduction to your chest," she pointed out when she could talk again, smirking at him. "That was fairly silly. And totally full of grace and awareness of my surroundings." She grinned, since she knew it had been sort of a shared blame in that one.

"Wouldn't have happened if I'd been looking where I was going - I totally claim blame for that one. And, anyway - my chest isn't complaining, so it's all good," he added, not really thinking about what he was saying any more. He was feeling relaxed now and oh so much more comfortable in her company than when they'd started out today.

"Yeah well ... I'm not either, so good on you," she said, looking at him for a beat with a smile that was entirely pleased. And just the tiniest bit dreamy. She made herself look at her food again and concentrate on eating quietly for a minute or two. Odd, now that didn't feel embarrassing, even though she knew somewhere it probably should have.

He did the same, smiling slightly to himself. Okay, so maybe this wasn't the hideous disaster he'd half anticipated. Maybe this wasn't even anywhere near that. And maybe, just maybe, he was okay with officially calling it a date. He considered that as he slowly chewed his food, before swallowing. Yeah, yeah, he thought that maybe that was exactly what this was.

Sometime and pleasant conversation later, the check arrived. Leija looked at it, then at Thom. She'd completely forgotten to ask if he wanted separate checks or not. Didn't that have something to do with whether or not this was a date? Was he expecting her to grab it first? Or even look at it? Or maybe just get the tip? Or anything? Damn her lack of telepathy! She froze up for a beat or two, watching him.

Thom, meanwhile, didn't even blink as he took the check and reached for his wallet, counting out cash enough to cover it. He'd come prepared to pay. Somehow, even while he hadn't been willing to decide whether or not this would be a date, he'd managed to do that. And now that he'd decided that it definitely was, he wasn't going to do anything else.

Well ... that was a relief. Problem solved. Though she still wasn't entirely clear whether or not this was a date date. Maybe he was just ... nice. And had money. If she remembered right, the houses over on Ridge were big, so ... "Want me to get the tip or anything?" she asked, just in case, raising a light-colored eyebrow at him.

He shook his head. "I got it," he told her, mildly. He wasn't going to be all offended at her trying to pay or anything, he wasn't that sort - he just wasn't going to let her either. Plus, he'd already covered the tip in the notes he'd left on the table. "Should we?" he asked, standing.

Leija smiled a touch and stood with him. Now that they were done eating and were getting ready to leave and such, her stomach was fluttering again. A lot. She pulled her jacket on, tugging her hair out from under it, and followed him toward the door. "So now what?" she asked, teasing faintly, once they were on the sidewalk again.

"Wellll," Thom mused aloud as he started them walking down the street - and possibly walking just a touch closer to her than he had been earlier. "I'd be tempted to suggest wandering round aimlessly, but given the weather today, maybe that's not such a good plan." He looked over with a smirk. "Not that it was that great a plan to begin with," he admitted. "So, how about I walk you home. Y'know, assuming you don't mind me knowing where you live or anything," he joked.

Part of her totally wanted to say no, and leech onto his side for the rest of the day, but she knew that was silly, and she definitely didn't want to make him sick of her already. 'Always leave them wanting more', as one of her older female cousins used to say. "Well, since you can't even act like a proper psycho killer, I suppose I don't mind," she said, tossing him a little grin. She pointed them in the right direction, not minding the bit of added closeness.

"Well, I didn't get to practice," Thom pointed out. "I was all ready to be psycho killer dude last night if your dad picked up the phone, but then i got you instead. And you just don't encourage the psycho killer in me, I'm afraid," he added with a slight smile, looking over at her.

"That's terribly comforting," Leija told him with a little giggle. "I'll be sure to make him start answering the phone from here on out, so you can hone your mad skills." And, because she'd suddenly gone screaming insane, she bumped her shoulder into him.

He pulled a fake-shocked face at her, eyes widening for a moment. "Oh, really?" he asked, not bumping her back, but using the movement to step in and walk closer to her, side by side now. "So - you'd want me to be a psychokiller then?" he asked her, terribly amused at that. "Do you know what that says about you?"

She mentally flailed for about .2 seconds before it sank in that he was still talking and actually ... walking closer. "That I'm a woman who lives on the edge?" she suggested in a musing tone, smirking. "Or that I'm going to end up on Unsolved Mysteries someday, either or. ... but I think you do rock star much better than you'd do psycho killer. So we'll stick with that, see how it goes." God, she hoped he didn't think she was a total whore.

"Okay, I'll work on that - if you're good to work on being my fangirl, of course," he told her. "And if that doesn't work out, I'll do my best to garotte you with an E-string, just to cover both bases," he laughed.

Leija laughed with him, her cheeks colored with ... something. Enjoyment, maybe. Damn her fair skin. "Well good. Since that's settled." God, her arm wanted to sneak around his. But no, 'cause they were just talking and having a good time and that didn't mean there could be lots of touching or anything.

He fell silent for a while after that, just walking and trying to work out what to do next, though the silence was strangely comfortable, even with that little knot of nerves in his chest. "So," he said, suddenly. He looked across at her. "Are you still planning on coming to the party Sunday?" Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes...

She tried not to be startled by the abrupt question, but she was a little. It stirred up more butterflies. "Um," she said, pressing her lips together briefly. "Yeah, sure." She tilted a little smile up in his direction. "Not like I'm gonna be busy or anything, and I'm supposed to ... y'know, critique you guys."

"Well, I dunno - you've been in town a few days now. You could have... got carried away in the social whirl already. Or something," he pointed out. "But I'm glad you're gonna be there," he admitted, almost brushing his hand against hers, but chickening out at the last minute and not quite doing so.

Leija considered telling him that she sort of ... did have another engagement later on that day, but ... didn't. Instead she just chuckled and shrugged. "That's not really likely, even when I've been here a while," she said, not sounding like she minded much. Then she smiled down at her sneakers. He was glad she was coming. "I'm glad you asked me," she also admitted.

"Well, to be fair, yesterday I was more like spreading the word," he admitted to her. Though if he was being really honest, he would have also added that he generally wasn't the type to strike up conversations with random strangers for no reason, let alone invite them to parties. But he wasn't feeling quite that honest right now. He was trying to make a good impression on her, after all.

"And today?" she asked, looking at him sideways and raising that one eyebrow again. Not to put him on the spot or anything, stupid, her internal monologue murmured.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and tipped his head a little, gave a tiny shrug. "'Swhy I asked you again." he concentrated on walking for a few steps. "I mean - I'm gonna be playing and everything, so..." You've already told her this, remember? "But, yeah." Oh, great, so you've reached the eloquent stage then?

Leija bit her lower lip on a smirk that might not be taken as it was meant. He sounded like her. Unsure of himself. It was endearing, in addition to making her even more comfortable with this. "Well, since you asked twice, I will definitely be there," she decided, quirking him a little smile. They were getting close to her street now. Suck.

He'd noticed that too. Damn. He wondered absently if she'd notice if he took them on a detour. But he decided that she probably would. He wondered if he should ask to see her again before that, but figured that that would probably be a bit much - after all, the party was Sunday, which was now less than two days away. And tomorrow he had band rehearsal and he couldn't miss that, plus he was still working on buttering up his mom so she wouldn't freak when he rushed from their dinner on Sunday - because usually they went on for hours and he was gonna have to cut it short, since getting out of it altogether wasn't a viable option.

Her pace was slowing down as they turned down Cherry St. She didn't want to go home, but she knew ... yeah, she probably had to. And it wasn't like she could take him in with her and keep him. Leija was sure he had things to do, especially with a gig coming up so soon. "That's my house," she said quietly, pointing to a nice, average-looking 2-story a few houses down from them. She wondered how this was supposed to end.

Thom was actually wondering much the same thing. He wasn't exactly experienced in this whole dating thing - the few girls he had dated, he'd known so well by the time they'd actually had their first date that the whole thing just kinda flowed without having to really think about it. Or, well, not in the same way, anyhow. "Right," he said, as she pointed out her house. "Nice house," he added. Okay, so this was threatening to turn awkward again - damn, but it would be so much easier if they didn't have to bring this to a close. And he'd been having a great time as well.

"Thanks," she said, mind too preoccupied on whether or not she should hug him when they got to her door to notice that they were being lame again. Who decided this had to be so hard? Would he think she was a slut if she hugged him? Was that as ridiculous as it sounded in her head? Should they shake hands? No no no. No affection would be better than shaking hands. Did he have any clue at all how nervous he made her? And oh god, they were at the steps.

He stopped at the base of the steps - unsure of the etiquette of whether he was meant to walk her right to the door or not. He paused, then turned to her. "So..." You know, generally words are meant to follow that, Thom. Really!

Leija's heart had picked up in the past handful of seconds. She was trying to breathe through it and be calm. She liked him, she'd had fun, now it was time to say goodbye and that wasn't really worth having a panic attack about. ... right? "I had fun," she settled on saying, and put honest effort into not looking at his lips for too long. They were nice. He was nice. Dammit. "Thanks for lunch and stuff."

He probably didn't help matters by unconsciously flicking his tongue out to run over said lips as he looked down at her. "I.. had fun as well," he said, wondering, well a thousand things. He reached out to snag her hand, just lightly holding it, hoping that she wouldn't mind. "So... Maybe you could let me know when you'd be good for that poetry reading?" he suggested lightly. Not that he was overly interested in the poetry reading - though he thought that the way they'd been talking, it could be good just to make them both laugh - but it was a good excuse, right?

All she could do for a second or two was stare. It was sensory overload, between the touch, and the sound of his voice, and that tongue-thing. She felt briefly like she was about to die, before she remembered that it was her turn to talk. Leija blinked as her fingers closed on his. "Okay," she said weakly. "You can ... call me. Some-- anytime. And I'll ... let you know." There should probably be more that she should say or do, but she was fairly incapable at the moment, as she was engrossed by his face.

"Or I could give you my number," he amended, his mouth curving up into a soft smile. "Oh - and do you have an email address? So I can drop you a list of those numbers you wanted," he added, currently making no moves to drop her hand.

She was holding someone's hand. And she wasn't like ... six years old anymore. And it was a guy. And he'd started it. Normal reality had totally taken a vacation, it felt like. "Yeah, I do," she said, blinking again. "Um ... do you have anything to write it down?" She glanced down at the rest of him like she could maybe see in his pockets. "Or ... want to come in?"

"I am, in fact, penless," he told her, letting her hand go to make a show of patting himself down. He was gonna get an invite in - that was good. Right? A happy realisation that was dulled only by the one that followed that he'd let her hand go and he wasn't sure he could smoothly repeat the earlier move.

Leija was a teensy bit disappointed that he'd let go, but it wasn't as though she could snatch his hand back or anything. She gave him a smile and nodded, turning to head up the steps and unlock the door. Her dad wasn't home -- she'd noted the lack of car in the driveway -- and that somehow made her less nervous about taking Thom inside. She opened the door and let him in. There were still boxes piled up in the living room, but at least the furniture was arranged. It wasn't extremely nice furniture, but it wasn't really shabby either; it looked comfortable and lived-in. She dropped her keys on the small table next to the door and glanced at him over her shoulder, making her way toward the kitchen.

He followed, the slight spring in his step becoming more subdued as he entered the house, unaccountably nervous. Or, possibly, accountably nervous, all things considered. "See you're still unpacking - guess that's gonna take you a while, right?" he asked. As though he'd know - he'd lived in his current house his entire life. He didn't know the first thing about moving.

"Yeah, probably ... another week or so. Trying to figure out where to put everything again is kind of the hard part." Leija slipped out of her jacket and toed her sneakers off before walking onto the kitchen's linoleum. At least that seemed to be in order, complete with a bowl of various fruit out in the middle of the round table. She leaned on the counter, scribbling down her email address on a little notepad by the phone. She tore it off and held it out for him, smiling a bit shyly. She'd so be at his perfect height if she sat on the counter ... which was a terrible, awful thought.

He'd paused for a moment in the doorway, watching as she took off her shoes. Should he do the same thing? Did they have a house with one of those 'no shoes indoors' rules? Would it be rude if he didn't? Would he look totally uncool if he did? Did his socks have holes in them? He hadn't expected to have to face a 'shoe taking off' option, he hadn't checked! In the end, he decided he'd risk a telling off and walked over to the counter, shoes still on. But possibly a little more carefully than normal. He took the paper from her and looked at it. Then up at her. "Your number?" he asked, holding it back out to her.

"You have it," she reminded him with a little grin. The shoe thing was just her own preference, if Leija could get away with being shoeless anywhere or anytime, she did. "But just to make sure you don't 'lose' it," she said with little quoty fingers before taking the slip of paper back and scribbling her number down again. Then she slid the pad and pen a little closer to him. "Your turn."

He took the piece of paper from her again, looking at her blankly, until his brain caught up and started working again. He grimaced. "I do, don't I? Sorry, I...'m not as stupid as I look?" he tried, hopefully, distracting himself by leaning down and quickly scribbling down his own number, with email just in case. He looked up at her through the strands of longish hair that generally existed over his forehead. "There you go." He gave her the paper.

She took it, and resisted the urge to sniff it, because it was just a piece of paper from her own kitchen, for fuck's sake. "Now we're even," she said with a bright smile, pocketing his information. She spun the pen around for something else to do with her hands, one hip leaned on the counter, looking at him. "I'd say you're pretty sharp then," she told him, voice quiet in the still room. "'Cause you don't look anywhere near stupid."

Now was not the time to mention his 4.0 grade average, he was smart enough to know that. "Obviously, I just act dumb around you then. Either that or perhaps all the illicit drugs I'm taking as a staple of my rockstar lifestyle are going to my head," he suggested laughing mostly because he'd never done drugs, ever, in his entire life. He'd not even smoked a normal cigarette. Okay, so he drank a few beers at parties, but that was about it.

She laughed along with him. Yeah, he didn't look anything like a junkie in any way, shape, or form. Even if he did look like a really young Beatle. But she liked that. Leija was pretty sure she hadn't seen anything not to like yet. "Oh so it's my fault?" she teased, grinning. "How exactly does that work?"

"Well, let's see - you're kinda distracting," he told her, tilting his head to one side and looking her up and down, casually. He shrugged lightly. "Course, it could just be the mental image of you wearing that purple hat with a blue feather, but..." It could do with the fact that you're cute. And easy to talk to. And silly in that good way.

See, if we were in a movie and I was a braver chick, I'd go 'how's this for distracting?' and lay one on him, riiiiiight ... now! Unsurprisingly, she didn't move, just continued to grin at him. Because she wasn't at all sure that was welcome in any way. Except the way that he was a teenage guy. But that so wasn't enough. "Okay, I'll try to be quiet and boring so you can think from now on," she teased.

He shook his head. "Oh no, you can't do that - you promised to scream and thr... fangirl at me, remember?" he pointed out, changing tack mid-sentence, because no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be able to smoothly pull off suggesting to a girl she threw her bra at him. Not without serious mumbling and embarrassment. He held a finger up. "So no backing out on your fangirling tendencies - I'm counting on you," he admonished, before impulsively batting her very lightly on the end of the nose with his pointing finger.

Leija caught it -- of course -- and let out a little giggle. He was going to remember that one, it seemed. That was okay with her. Her own impulse was there to bite at the finger he touched her nose with, but she put a thumb down on that one. Instead she playfully batted back at his hand and giggled a little more. "Well if you want to sacrifice rational thought for fangirling and bras, who am I to stand in your way?" she posed, and dropped a quick wink at him.

He took the opportunity to catch the hand she'd used to bat him with, pulling her in a little, if she wanted to go with it. He bit down hard on the impulse to point out that he was a teenage guy and of course he'd lose rational thought over fangirling and bras. Whilst he could make it funny, it didn't really seem appropriate right about now. "You think I should be rational?" he asked, instead, he voice more subdued than before.

She let herself be pulled and was suddenly very much closer to him. Her cheeks flushed a bit and she looked up at him, catching her lower lip between her teeth briefly. "Not necessarily," she murmured, hazel eyes ticking between his.

His tongue darted out once more to moisten his lips as he looked down at her looking up at him. She was so close and all he'd have to do was... And so he did, dropping his head and kissing her softly before drawing back.

Leija's heart damn near imploded, so it took her half a second to kiss back. Which, well ... she hoped she did right. It was quick, but most certainly there and good god he smelled so good. She stared at him a beat. "Nobody's ever done that before," her mouth murmured of it's own volition.

He blinked - obviously surprised. And it was at her comment, rather than the fact he'd kissed her. That he wasn't surprised about in the least, not now that it had happened. "No?" he asked, strangely daunted and somewhat hesitant about leaning in to kiss her again.

She shook her head mutely, lips pressing together. She felt a little lightheaded, but that was okay. "Can I--?" There wasn't really an end to that sentence, as Leija lifted herself up on her toes and kissed him instead. Or again. Or something. It felt good, though.

He hadn't expected that - and he definitely hadn't expected her to ask permission first. Not that she exactly gave him chance to refuse. Not that he would have refused but... Yeah, all thoughts flew ahead of the whole not thinking thing again as he returned the kiss, tenatively putting a hand on her waist.

Leija, when she allowed herself to think about stuff like this, hadn't ever expected her first kiss to be in the kitchen. Not that she was paying much attention; they could've been on the moon for all she cared. Her hands rested lightly on his arms. She wasn't panicking, she wasn't questioning, she wasn't worried about what he was thinking just then ... she just enjoyed the singular sensation while it lasted.

He pulled back at the end of the kiss, smiling slightly, his hand still resting on her waist. "So, erm... I guess I should go..." he said, rather reluctantly.

Yes, because this is absolutely perfect, and you have to go before I screw it up. Leija nodded and smiled back. "I dunno when he'll be back," she murmured back. She looked at him for another beat, honestly not wanting to move. Then her fingers slipped into his and she turned them around to lead him back to the front door.

He let her lead him in silence, shifting his hand slightly to hold her's more firmly. He felt like he was in a bit of a daze, to be honest. He hadn't expected his day to turn out like this - but there was no way on earth he was anywhere near complaining about it. No way at all.

She opened the door for him and ushered him through, hanging back inside but still not letting go of his hand yet. "I'll see you Sunday, then," she said, smiling in almost a shy way. Would wonders never cease. It might end up being an utter disaster later, but for now, she felt awesome.

He was tempted to turn back and kiss her again - because damn. But he didn't - she'd mentioned her father coming back and Thom wasn't willing to risk that first meeting being with him kissing the guy's daughter on his doorstep. "See you Sunday," he agreed, squeezing her hand slightly before letting it go.

Leija grinned and laughed softly, feeling a bit foolish. She gave him a wave, and resisted the urge to go and cling and kiss him some more. "Bye, Thom," she said, slowly making herself step back and shut the door. It wouldn't do very well to watch him walk down the street after all. Not through the door, at least, that was what windows were for. Once there was wood and metal between them, she hopped around in an ecstatic circle and clapped her hands over the giddy laughter bubbling out of her mouth.