Party Plans. And Date Plans?

Who: Thom and Leija
Where: On the phone
When: Around 8pm-ish

Thom didn't call her straight away after he got off the phone with Isaac. Instead he worked on the piece he'd been playing with whilst talking to his friend, messing around a little until it was a definite tune - on a whim making it totally a piano piece, rather than writing it for the guitar. He'd overlay a rhythm over the top of it at some point, leave the baseline up to Isaac, though he could already almost hear it in his head. It'd be good - almost up to instrumental quality if lyrics didn't appear at some point. It could definitely hold its own.

And through it all, the phone had been sitting just in his line of sight, there in the corner of his vision, until he couldn't actually ignore it any more. He grabbed the handset and slid down to sit on the floor, back against the wall, in between the keyboard and his electric guitar on its stand as he rooted in his pocket for her number and dialled, listening to the phone ring.

Leija had been sitting in her room, half-practicing her fingering, half-pretending she wasn't looking at the phone every three seconds. When it actually rang, it scared the crap out of her, and she let out a little scream. Which immediately made her feel like an idiot, even though she was the only one who actually heard it. Leija launched herself off the bed, and yelled "I GOT IT!!!" down the hallway to her dad. Her hand paused on the handset and she let it ring another half a time before she picked it up. "Hello?" she answered, sounding rather composed for her half-lunging body stance.

Not her father - that was a good start, though Thom had been mostly prepared to get past the parent before talking to the girl, so it surprised him a little - leading to a moment's silence on the line before he spoke. "Hi." Good start there, dufus - say something else. "It's Thom - from the park today?" Like there are that many Thoms in town... "I called about the party."

It took Leija her own moment to answer. It wasn't that she didn't expect him to call, because ... well okay, she hadn't really expected him to call. Regardless of him saying many times that he would. This was all just ... very weird. "Hi," she said back. "Um, right, okay ... let me get a pen." She leaned and snagged the required writing instruments and nodded. Like he could see her. Dur. "So where am I showing up to and what time?" This'll be it, he'll just tell me this and that'll be it. A business transaction, is all it is ... that's all ...

He gave her the address before pausing over the time. "Well, apparently the party starts at seven," he said, bringing his knees up and resting his elbows on them as he held the phone to his ear. "We're gonna be setting up from six, but... I'm probably gonna be running a bit late. I'm not sure what time I'm gonna be able to make it, so..." Like it mattered - it was a party. With lots of people. It wasn't like she was just showing up for him or anything. Right?

"Oh," she said softly, looking at what she'd written. She thought she knew where that neighborhood was. "You'll be there, though, right?" she asked before she thought about it. "I mean, yeah, of course you will ... with the band and all, but ... " Oh my god, shut up right now, he just said he'd be late, his band is playing and you're stupid. Leija winced at herself and butted her knuckles against her forehead. "So just sometime after seven?" she finished up lightly.

"Yeah, sometime after seven," Thom agreed. "Though, hey - I found out that David's gonna be setting up a stereo as well, I'm I'm not gonna be playing all night," he added. "Though, I mean - by the time we take a break, you'll probably have met loads of people and won't be interested in talking to me any more. I know how fickle you fangirls can be," he quipped with a smile she couldn't see as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Leija laughed in a nervous sort of way. "Well I only have so many bras and hotel room keys to throw, so I hope you guys are good enough to keep me entertained after that's done," she said. "I doubt very many people will want to talk to the crazy fangirl, so you might be stuck with me when your set's over." She plunked down on her floor and scooted up into the kneehole of the desk. Why did her stomach feel so nervous? Gawd.

"Well, I hope we're good enough to meet your exacting standards - you may be our very first critic. I just hope my nerves don't get the better of me," Thom told her, feeling like he was talking an absolute load of random crap. But she was laughing - laughing was good.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she said with a smile in her voice. She had a feeling he didn't really get nervous about much of anything; he just seemed to be that kind of guy. "I promise I won't be too hard on you guys. First fangirl jitters and all that."

"Well, that's good then," Thom said, realising that they were getting to the point where he was either going to have to hang up, or find a new subject. And this is why I don't do this kind of thing, he thought to himself. "So, erm - I didn't have to go through your dad then," he commented, before cringing - probably the wrong thing to say. Damn, could that be taken as meaning he thought she'd been sitting by the phone or something? He wasn't sure. Of course, then that set him wondering if she had been sitting by the phone...

"Yeah, he's downstairs I think," Leija said, not really sure of that at all. "Once he gets into his study and playing, he's just ... oblivious." In fact, she had a sudden irrational suspicion that he was listening in on the other phone, but ... that was ridiculous. It was just paranoia. "So feel free to act like a psycho killer, if you want to," she added with a soft chuckle. Aaaaand, she wondered how long she could drag this out by being a dork. Pretty good so far.

"Sorry - hate to break this to you, but I don't really know how to act like a psycho killer," he told her, smiling a little into the phone. "I realise that'll come as a big disappointment to you 'n' all..." Smooth, Thom - real smooth. You realise you're a total idiot, right?

Leija chuckled and clucked her tongue softly into the phone. "That's a shame," she said, smiling herself. "I guess we can't be friends now." Wait ... that was a bad thing to say, right? Could she backpedal without looking stupid? UGH! "But you are a rockstar, so maybe there's hope for you after all." There, that was ... slightly better.

"Rockstars often turn out to be psycho killers do they? Or are you just willing to stay friends with me just because of my rock star status?" Pause. "And does this mean we're friends then," he asked after a beat.

Ohmygod you're a complete and utter idiot, was her immediate thought. It took her a minute to answer, due to some very serious mental flailing. "Well ... no? Maybe? What's the right answer?" she laughed a little, squeezing her eyes such. Stupid stupid stupid. "I mean, potentially. If you y'know ... wanna maybe be. Friends. 'Cause you've got the rock star thing ... covered. I should shut up now, right? 'Cause that would be ... good ..."

"No - no, no. You don't have to shut up," he said, probably a little too quickly. He paused, shifting slightly. "I mean - unless you want to, but... You don't have to."

There were a few very painful seconds in which Leija waited for him to say something else. He didn't, so ... yeah, she wasn't really sure where to go from there. "As long as you don't mind me rambling at you like a huge idiot," she said with a little breathy chuckle. Why in the hell was she tongue-tied anyway? He was just a guy. And not interested. So. There.

"I don't mind rambling," he told her. "In all honesty, I'm not known for being too good at the talking thing, so you'd be doing me a favour," he admitted. "And I promise not to think you're an idiot."

"You've done fine so far, as far as I can tell," Leija said, tucking her hair back behind her ears with one hand. She brought her knees up to hug, back against the hard wood of the desk. At least you haven't embarrassed yourself. Like, oh, say ... me? "But thanks, I'll ... try to prove you right. So do you get nervous before a show?" There, music was something easy to talk about.

Music - thank heavens for a safe subject. "No, not really," he told her. "I never have done. The opposite really - it's a hell of a rush, even just playing for a few people. I love it. Especially now." He slouched down a bit, making himself more comfortable on the floor in his little alcove between instruments. "When we first started out, we were just messing around, doing covers and shi..stuff. Which was cool and everything, but... then we started to use our own material. And there's nothing like it - when it goes down well. Standing there, performing something you wrote - and people actually liked it." His voice had warmed to his subject, conveying his sense of pleasure down the phoneline, all hesitation gone.

Leija found it insanely adorable that he'd stopped himself from cursing. It wasn't like she cared or anything, she had a sailor's vocabulary sometimes, it was just ... endearing. When she probably shouldn't be at all endeared. Was that even a word? "I write my own stuff too," she admitted in a quiet voice. "So I kind of know what you mean ... even though I don't ever really perform it for anybody." She was interested in the tones of his voice. She'd been right that music was his passion, it was very easy to hear. Leija liked the sound of it. "Do you sing? Or just play and write?"

"You do?" he asked, catching right on to that. "I'd like to hear that sometime - unless you mean you really never perform for anybody." He paused, chuckling slightly. "But I'd still like to hear it anyway. I'd just have to find a way to persuade you," he added, then cringed slightly - did he really just say that? Moving on, quickly. "And yeah, I sing - I'm not great or anything, but I'm passable. And right now, I'm all we've got. Might be changing in the future though - we'll have to see," he added, thinking of Jamie. He smiled to himself, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. Jamie in the band, that would make things... interesting. And he'd have to get over that whole staring thing. Which he was going to have to get over anyway, since she was firmly off whatever list he may or may not have. Dude - no thinking about one girl when you're talking to another. Not a good idea...

She was too busy spinning her wheels on the insane thought of playing something she'd written for him. No. Big N.O. She didn't even play it for her dad. Ever. But to freak out on him was pretty much not a good idea, so she didn't do that. "You'll have to be a pretty crafty mastermind," she said, sounding amused. 'Cause yeah, never happening. And good! Look, another subject change! "Oh yeah? Making an addition to the lineup?" She sounded interested. Because he'd made her curious about this fantabulous band he fronted. She supposed it was worth going to a party for.

"Yeah. Well, maybe, possibly," Thom amended. "If she'll do it. At the moment, she's not sure. Time and stuff. But she sang for us in the park today and damn but she has a great voice. It'd make all the difference and I have no problem for singing backup for her at all," Thom said, happily going with the subject change because look! He'd gotten away with the lame line. God, he had no idea what he was doing here...

Her knee-jerk thought was that that must be his girlfriend. But then she made a face at herself. If he had a girlfriend, she was fairly certain they wouldn't still be on the phone. She thought that was how all that worked, at least. Not that she'd ever been anybody's girlfriend. Unless they were unhappy together or he was looking for an excuse to ditch her or something. But then, would she possibly be singing for them? And he would've heard her sing before today. Or he was just really friendly and liked to get to know people he randomly ran into on the street. ... she was overthinking this far too much. "Well, maybe she'll be able to. Good luck," she said, a tad lamely.

He paused at that, wondering what he'd said wrong as he sat up a little straighter. "Erm, yeah," he agreed, sounding a little less certain now. "Am I boring you?" he asked her. "I'm going on, aren't I? And you were meant to be the one rambling at me - I'm sorry..."

Dammit, he was perceptive too! Crap. Then, after a beat in which she flailed for something good to say, the shared awkwardness really hit her between the eyes and she laughed. "No no, I'm not bored. And you're fine, I was asking you questions, don't apologize. I'm just not really ... used to this whole ... conversation thing. Which sounds ridiculous, but really, I'm a social retard. I dunno if you are too or I just hide it well. But you're okay, promise."

He'd actually never been asked whether he was a social retard or not before. And he really wasn't sure how to respond to that - it left him gaping into the phone for a moment or two. "You seem to be doing okay with the conversation thing so far," he told her. God, this had suddenly turned awkward. He had no idea what to say. Should he make his excuses and hang up? But where would that leave things? If he went and left things in this kinda place - then he'd see her again on Sunday and they'd have left it off not knowing what to say to each other and they'd be picking back up on an awkward note and it'd be strange and would they even really talk, or would it just be awkward again and stiffly polite and then going their own separate ways as quickly as possible? Yes, this was, in fact, the way Thom's mind occasionally thought, extrapolating out far too far and making things much more difficult and complicated than they needed to be - which was the reason he seemed almost incapable of spontaneous decision-making at times. "So, what kind of music do you write?" he asked, realising that the silence was beginning to stretch. And then realising that she'd said she didn't share it with anyone. God, he really was an idiot. And probably making things worse.

Leija, meanwhile, had been chewing the crap out of her lower lip. He didn't laugh like she'd hoped he would, instead he got all quiet for a while. Had she offended him? Not everybody called themselves names like she did. Was he mad? Did he hate her? But he was still attempting to talk ... oh god, what did she do here? "Mostly stuff for the violin," she answered quietly. Then cleared her throat a touch. "It's easier to compose on the piano, but it doesn't seem to ... really inspire me, I guess. It's ... strange, I dunno. I can't call it classical, but it's sort of in that vein." In fact, everything she wrote was fairly intense and sad, but as he wouldn't ever be hearing it, he didn't need that bit of information. She paused for a second. "I didn't mean that as like ... a really bad thing or anything, I'm sorry if I offended you. I just know I'm not really good with people much." Please don't be mad. I like this.

"You didn't offend me," he assured her. Because she hadn't done - just thrown him a little. But he wasn't going to be admitting that. Not at all. "Most of the time I write stuff for guitar - at the moment it's my primary instrument, so it makes more sense, and it's easier to pick things up with. Sometimes I compose for the piano, but that takes me a lot longer. I'll write something, then leave it for a few weeks, then come back and change it - it's a long process. Actually, that's what I was doing before I called - I found something earlier that was lying about and I was just playing with it. Changing a few things round. I started on it a couple of months ago and it's on and off, but I finally think I've kinda got it to a stage where I'm happy with it."

Okay, well that was ... good, right? And he was still talking. Which was also good. So, she should stop nibbling the skin off the inside of her lip and keep talking too. Because that was how conversations went. "Can I hear it?" she asked, surprising herself a little. But ... she was curious. She kind of wanted to hear his style, since he loved it so much.

There was a pause. He'd walked right into that one, hadn't he? See, this was the trouble with having a fall-back subject. But there was that question. Could she hear it? He'd decided it was ready to be seriously developed, but... What if she thought it sucked? It doesn't suck. You know this, he told himself with confidence. "Erm - sure," he said, before he could change his mind. He paused. "Do you mean now?"

That gave Leija a pleased little thrill. She loathed playing for people, it tore her up inside, but she loved hearing other people do it. And he'd said yes! To something that was just his, because hearing the whole band would be different. "Yes," she answered. Then paused. "I mean ... you don't have to, of course. But ... now you've got me all curious. If you don't think it's ready, though, I'd totally understand that."

Thom was and always had been a confident performer. He'd never experienced stage fright, he'd rarely even had a case of nerves before a performance. But he found that he was feeling a little nervous right now. He took a few moments, breathing slowly, trying to put his finger on why exactly he was suddenly nervous. Why when he would have happily performed in front of an entire room of people, he was getting daunted at the prospect of playing a tune for a girl on the other end of the phone. Of course, she'd given him an out. All he had to say was that it wasn't ready and he wouldn't have to. Except he knew it was ready - really, there was no reason why he shouldn't. Except, what if she didn't like it? He hadn't had a problem with her joke about critiquing the band, but he realised that she really probably did know a lot more about this stuff than he did. And this wasn't the band - this was him. He closed his eyes for a moment, centring himself. "It's fine," he said, calmly and with what most people would see as confidently - though anyone who knew him well would know it was slightly off. "Give me a minute - I'll put you on speaker," he said, standing up. He moved to the keyboard, switching the phone over to hands free and putitng it on the side. He took another moment, another breath, his hands settling naturally on the keys - the manuscript was still on the stand from earlier. "OKay - can you hear me?" he asked her.

It took him a long time to answer, and she'd been just about to tell him it was okay, he really didn't have to when he said it was fine. Leija smiled a touch, avidly listening to him get up and move around. She shifted a bit herself, still sitting under her desk. She guessed that he probably didn't do this often, and a little part of her kicked up and wanted to feel special. She put a mental thumb over that. He was a performer by nature, this couldn't be a very big deal. She was just some chick he'd met today who knew music. That was all. "Yes, I hear you fine," she answered, voice raising a touch since she was on speakerphone. She sounded like she was smiling, though, since she was. Leija settled in to listen, totally focused on the sound filtering through into her ear.

He played the opening notes, a little hesitant at first - and then the music took over. It was easy to forget he had an audience, easy to forget that there was anyone listening at all as his fingers moved with confidence over the keys, the sound ebbing and flowing as he played. He'd started with a soft, slightly haunted melody, establishing it before developing and building on what he'd created, moving the piece into something deeper, more stirring as he reached the climax of the piece. It was clear that there wassomething missing, but then again, Thom wrote with the knowledge that whatever he created to would be added to by several other instruments. There were gaps in it where he could practically hear Isaac's baseline, Tyler's percussion, in his head, it was all there, waiting. He drew the piece to a close, his fingers slowing and then stilling as the basement fell silent and he waited, not sure whether he should say anything or not. What would he say? 'And that's it' seemed to take something away from it, after all.

At some point toward the beginning, Leija's eyes had closed of their own accord. Even though she hardly knew him and there were two phones between her ear and the music, she felt herself drift away. It wasn't the panicky, hurried tug of the call from the dying, but it was similar in the way it felt like it pulled her up and out of the window. It was what always happened to her when she was faced with a piece of beautiful music. She got lost. It didn't sound unfinished to her, not in the least. She was completely silent until he was finished, and then even a few minutes after that. Her eyes opened slightly. "That was beautiful, Thom," she said in a soft voice. Belatedly realizing he might not be able to hear her.

He thought he'd lost her for a minute, before he heard her speak. He grabbed the phone up again, moving the stool at the keyboard to the side slightly, so he could lean up against the wall as they talked. "Hi - you're still there then?" he asked her. Pause. "You liked it?" he asked her, sounding like he wanted the affirmation.

"Yup, still here," she said with a small dreamy smile. "And yes. I liked it. A lot. You're really good." She sounded like she meant it, because she did. At their age, and for not having had any formal training -- that she knew about, at least? That had been excellent. "Thank you."

"It's not finished," he said, but it was said with a smile as he rested his head back against the wall. "I wrote it with the idea that we could do with it. I never really expected to be playing it for anyone on its own. So there are gaps and it'd sound better with drums, bass... Sorry - you just said you liked it, didn't you?" he laughed, realising that he was being a fool. Again.

That sort of thing Leija could definitely understand. She knew she'd be a babbling mess if their situations were reversed, apologizing and over-explaining every teensy flaw that he probably didn't even hear. "I did indeed say that," she said, grinning a bit. "If it's this good on it's own, I'm sure it'll melt me with everything else added."

He arched an eyebrow at that. "It's meltingly good, is it?" he asked, sounding a touch amused and inwardly a little impressed at himself. Melting - that was a nice compliment to get. His smile widened to a grin for a moment and he decided that he'd be bringing this one up at the next practice. Definitely.

"Even now, I am slightly sticky," she quipped. Then her eyes widened and her cheeks flared and she bit down hard on a giggle. Dear Lord. What on earth is wrong with you? "In entirely metaphorical ways, of course," she added, wrinkling her nose and laughing silently to herself.

It was probably a good job she added that last, because Thom's mind had been going in all sorts of directions with that first comment and he was internally flailing once more, in an entirely good way. But, hell what did you say to that? Isaac would know what to say. Dammit, Isaac - why do you always have the lines? "Of course," he said, trying to sound cool and unbothered. Which was actually something he did well. "You realise you owe me now, right?" he added. "I showed you mine, you have to show me yours." He paused. "In entirely metaphorical ways, of course."

She was blushing so hard that it felt like every freckle was about to pop off of her face, but that cracked Leija up into a flurry of -- sickeningly girly -- giggles. She didn't want to sound like a total airhead, but really, it was her natural reaction. That and a boatload of sudden stomach-butterflies. He was flirting, there was no mistaking that one. "And what exactly is it that I'm going to be showing you? Metaphorically?" she posed, sounding highly amused (and pleased). Once she could speak coherently again.

Oh god, he was flirting. He was actually flirting, in actual flirting ways. And he'd started it, which meant that he had to go with it - which he didn't, theoretically, have a problem with. Except for the fact he had no clue what he was doing! There was a reason that Thom had the whole 'dark mysterious' reputation going on. And that had a lot to do with the fact he didn't really talk a whole lot, let alone flirt. There was a moment of internal flailing - something that seemed to have been happening a whole lot lately - as he tried to get ahold of himself. Would the truth spoil the moment? Would that just be boring as hell and just - yes, yes, yes it would. have to come up with something else to say... Something else. not lame.... "I get a choice?" he asked, wondering if that was lame. Was that lame? He had no clue. Shit.

It was, in fact, not terribly lame. At least not to Leija, apparently, because it made her bounce a bit in place. She was bouncing. This had never happened before, in the history of ever. She was going to entirely hate herself later, but by god, she was having fun. Really nervous, fluttery, clammy-palmed fun. "Well if I'm going to owe you, you've got to lay out the terms," she said, trying to sound like she wasn't grinning like an idiot and failing miserably. "You've got one up on me, so you're calling the shots here." She was actually flirting back. What a truly bizarre evening.

Oh, so no pressure then! Shit, shit, shit!! Isaac - how do you do this??? Thom was up and pacing now. And if he'd been a little nervous before, he over and above now. "Terms," he repeated, and realised they weren't just talking about music anymore. he wasn't sure when that had happened. Or how. But it didn't feel like they were just talking music now. He realised that all he had to do to get this back under control again was just to calmly say that he wanted to hear what she'd written sometime. That was all. And that would get it back into the nice, safe zone of talking about music again. "Well, that all depends on what you think it's worth, doesn't it?" he told her, flipping it back to her - cos dammit, he needed a moment to come up with something better. Or to have a heart attack. Right now both were viable possibilities.

"Well, let's see," she said in a musing sort of tone, pretending to really think about it. Which, in reality, consisted of extremely giddy flailing for something witty to say. He couldn't know it, but she was out of her element just as much as he was. She could talk to guys as equals and utter non-interests, when the occasions came up, but this was something Totally Else. And at this point she was fairly positive this would not be happening in person. She would've had a stroke by now if he'd been looking at her. "It was really good, so ..." But she really didn't want to have to play something for him of her own, honestly, and she knew that was what he'd meant originally. "I'd guess it's worth quite a bit, depending on what you want." Ha! Volley it back to him.

Damn! Depending on what he wanted? What did he want? Was this the part where he was meant to ask her out? Did he want to ask her out? Well, yes, er, possibly, er I don't know! He'd only just met the girl, how was he supposed to know whether... Say something, idiot! There need to be actual words inserted into this silence. "Well," he said, congratulating himself on the great start that was one single word - dragged out a little to fill up more space. "How about-" Damn, his heart was hammering so hard he was surprised she couldn't hear it. "-lunch sometime. Or, something?" Oh, yeah - real cool there. What was that? is that really the best you can do? You need to be shot - you know that? Probably at dawn. Idiot. Total fucking idiot.

Leija's body actually physically startled a little bit when he said lunch. She had expected some flirty, playful banter, not ... not a date! Wait, did lunch count as a date? She had no idea. Seeing as how she'd never been on one. It shocked her into silence for her own few too-fast heartbeats. "Sure," she said after a moment, trying hard to kick-start her brain. Don't be stupid! If you wait too long he'll think you don't want to! Say something else! "Um, I like ... lunch." No, not that! Something not stupid! She winced and put a hand to her forehead and uttered a nervous little laugh. "I mean yeah, totally. I'd ... I'd really like that."

Thom was too busy smiling at his actual success to notice the hesitation too much. "Great! I mean, good - that's. Right. Um - when?" he asked, feeling slightly more in control of the situation now that there was something approaching solid ground under his feet. He had a goal now. See - it was called 'lunch'. that nice, 'could be anything and I don't have to decide right now whether it's a date or not but it could turn into one if it turns out that we could be having one but I can define it then' kind of a way. Yes - he could handle this. He smiled and took a breath. "When are you free?" he asked her, the hestiation gone from his voice.

Oh. My. God. He was serious. He was seriously asking her out. Her. Being asked out. As opposed to all the blood that had been in her face just moments before, Leija was pale as crap and feeling a teensy bit dizzy. "Um," she said. Again. Her eyes darted up and around her room, as if it had a good answer. "Anytime, really. I don't ... don't really have anything planned at all until school. ... well, I mean ... the party, but ... yeah, nothing else." Oh! Maybe movies with Caleb and his friends, but ... he hadn't called yet. So maybe that wasn't happening. This was. She just hadn't the faintest clue what to really do with it.

"How about tomorrow?" he suggested, since he didn't have anything planned either - except for his usual hanging in the park, but that was more to do with lack of anything better to do. This? Classified as something better to do.

"Okay," she said, a small smile managing to squirm it's way onto her face. Now that solid plans were being made, she was feeling ... kind of warm. And a little fuzzy. Just a bit. "Where and what time?" she asked, picking at the hem of her pj pants without seeing them. Oh god, what was she going to wear?! And how in the hell had he suddenly shown up and turned her into a girl?!

"Would twelve be too early for you?" he asked her. "And we could meet at the north entrance to Trowbridge Park - since i know you know where that is," he joked. "Wouldn't like you to get lost," he added, pacing again, but this time slowly and easily, relaxing into the confidence of someone who had successfully made a 'probably-a-date' without having a heart attack. Go him!

"No, no ... twelve is fine," she said. She herself finally got up and started to walk around her room. She went to her closet, opened it ... closed it again, and looked a bit helpless. But not entirely in a bad way. She laughed softly at his last comment. Lost was pretty much impossible for her. "Yeah I think I can make it back there just fine," she told him. God, her stomach was a total fluttery mess.

"Okay then," Thom said, sounding pleased. "I - I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." How had that just happened? had he planned to ask her out when he called? Possibly. Maybe - he'd, well, he and Isaac had - or, that was, Isaac had said. But, okay, tomorrow, twelve, 'more than likely a date'. Okay. He stopped and turned, looking slightly surprised, but definitely pleased with himself. Okay.

Oh yes. It was getting-off-the-phone time. Leija had some freaking out to do, and she couldn't do it with him on the other line. The only trick was the actually getting off of the phone. It's set, he's fine, he sounds happy about it, you're happy about it ... don't panic. Leave it on a good note, say goodnight. She cleared her throat softly. "Okay," she started. "Noon at the park. I'll ... see you then. Sleep well, Thom." Was that too much?

"You too, Leija," he replied. He paused. "Goodnight," he added, before hanging up. And then staring at the phone for a moment. And smiling. Okay. Date. Tomorrow. Leija. He shook his head and grinned, before heading out and back up to his room. Interesting day.

Leija hung up on her end and threw up her arms in a silent flail. She had a date! How did this happen?! She pivoted and fell face-first down onto her bed. After a moment or two she started to laugh into her pillow. She had a date! With Thom! Who was cute and funny and very talented and seemed intelligent and not at all an asshole and wow! She rolled over and curled, smiling at her bedroom. Maybe this could be good.