[detention] lost in the madness. [nola]

Magnolia was starting to come to terms with the idea that this might just be one of those assignments she wouldn’t be turning in, or at least working on, today. It wasn’t an entirely too difficult pill to swallow, the Gryffindor might have been trying to clean up her academic act this year but she had missed her fair share of homework points over late work. There was too much going on between the time after school and the time right before first period started, spending time on her homework instead of collecting information or spending that time making meaningful relationships felt like a waste of time. Had she not been such a serial procrastinator, this might have even been a good time to make acquaintances with some of the detention regulars (excluding Isaac and his friends, of course) to see what sort of gossip the troublemakers had in store for her.
 
I have time to waste only translated into entertain me until this is over which again only brought up those annoying feelings that nagged in the pit of her stomach when she was filled with confusion on what path to follow. Annoyingly indecisive at times, Magnolia spent so much time mulling over the pros and cons of one thing or another that she ended up making the wrong choice anyway; the poor girl had a hard time reading the room and adjusting her ideas accordingly. “I don’t,” she responded in turn to his statement, attempting (and possibly failing) to set boundaries between them. Why couldn’t this be a simple exchange of information? Of course, the witch failed to see her own hand in this entire arrangement to begin with. If she had simply sworn to keep his secret on the train she wouldn’t be in detention in the first place, she’d be hanging out with her friends.
 
“I know what that is,” she retorted, nodding in the direction of the parchment to show that she understood exactly what Duncan had written down. There he went calling her a square again and it frustrated her to no end. Sometimes she wanted to show him just how bold she could be. But she refrained, because he was only trying to get a rise out of her. "But she wasn't going to say that word out loud, not when the adult in the room was well within hearing distance. She would prove it though.

Taking her quill, she moved to sit on her knees, leaning forward to reach over Isaac to take the parchment off of Duncan's desk again, shoving Isaac in the process. If he was going to make her uncomfortable, she was going to do the same. "You're a jerk," she muttered to Isaac when she sat the parchment on his desk, taking her quill and counting the spaces, filling in only the vowels. Skipping a space she added in an o, four spaces after that she added a u, and three spaces after that she added an e. Considering that the s and r had already been filled in, it was rather obvious.

"Satisfied?"

She insisted she knew what it was, but the more time passed, the more Isaac disbelieved her. She wasn't like his friends, he wasn't even sure if she was like half of the hormone raging teenagers in their year, but it'd be a lie to say he wasn't interested in finding out. He knew she had a bunch of girlfriends and that one Gryffindor boy who always had a book in his hand, but he was starting to think they weren't and never had been a thing. (Not that he had been paying attention, or anything...) Instead of scoffing or stomping away, Nola explained why she wasn't going to say it out loud, and Isaac shrugged at her, almost like he was challenging her still, regardless of the closeness of an authority figure.

She grabbed her quill and leaned toward Duncan's desk, and Isaac's eyebrow began to rise. The teenager ridiculously engrossed in the situation now but tried to pretend like it was only a passing interest. As if it was only entertainment, like in Muggle Studies. She shoved him, and he pretended it hurt more than it did, rubbing the spot on his upper arm where her elbow had connected with a pout. Her hand slid past him, and to the desk Duncan was at with Fi, taking the handyman sheet, and to Isaac's surprise, she filled it in. Not every single letter, which he supposed was a pretty smart move on her part, but enough that he couldn't deny she had solved it.

Brown eyes followed her as she backed up into her seat again and gave him that proud grin he hated so much. She always thought she was winning; it was annoying. Opening his mouth to say something, but Fiora beat him to it, Isaac's grin fell sharply into a frown. "He has a weakness for girls who stand up to him," Fiora said, more to Duncan than to them, but he knew she said it loud enough for Nola to overhear on purpose. What did Fiora know about what Isaac liked? They had made out a few times, sure, but only when Allison wasn't all over him. And the Slytherin was pretty sure she'd only done it to piss off Allison, her 'best friend.', but hadn't cared because he got what he wanted out of the deal too. Fio would have made a good Slytherin. Isaac shot her a 'shut the fuck up' kind of look, but Fiora didn't pay attention to those as closely as Allison or some of his other friends did. Fucking Gryffindors.

The redhead's eyes turned up from where Duncan had already started in on another stupid game he'd turn dirty and found Nola's. "Not whiny precious princesses whose skirts are higher than their grades." Was every Gryffindor girl this annoying? Fi was cool sometimes, but Isaac's face and balled fist made it more than evident that he had had enough of her bullshit for one day.

"Fuck off, Fi," he told her, daggers in his eyes, and grabbed Nola's textbook off the desk in a swift motion. "Let's go," He commanded, near-black eyes turning back to Nola. It was written all over his face that he absolutely expected her to follow him because he had told her to. He was arrogant enough to assume things like that. Isaac stood up from the desk, gave Fi one last scowl, and began walking across the room.

**permission from jared to include fiora's dialogue.

Magnolia had fully expected Isaac to say something irritating, that was quickly showing itself to be his main talent. But instead, Fiora spoke, causing the young witch to frown a little. Frankly, the witch couldn’t care less what sort of girl he liked but figured that if she wasn’t going out of her way to lay some claim on him then maybe they weren’t dating? Or maybe she was jealous? Or maybe she was trying to give her some underhanded advice? Sure, Magnolia had a reputation for moving from one crush to the next in seconds flat but Isaac was certainly not on the short list. So, the girl committed the piece of information to memory just in case some desperate underclassman asked about him. She wasn’t above trading some valuable knowledge for a favor, gossip was always in demand.

The insult, however, was not so graciously received but she let it roll off of her with a shrug. The only reason Magnolia made an effort in school was to avoid the wrath of her parents, she wasn’t invested in being the brilliant witch at Hogwarts, her grades were no reflection of her ability just her work ethic. In fact, the very proud precious princess (the adjective whiny was questionable because really there was nothing wrong with whining when the occasion called for it) was talented in the things that interested her. Maybe her reputation had taken a slight dive in the last month or so but only because she had been so distracted. Boys, like usual. But it wasn’t anything that couldn’t easily be remedied. Magnolia figured that like Isaac, Fiora, too, felt the need to impress her group of friends.

Before she could express all of this in a very long-winded speech, however, Isaac startled her by grabbing her textbook and demanding that she follow him. Was he defending her or did he just want to get this entire thing over with? Looked like a lover’s quarrel to her. Magnolia would have to investigate. But the action did make her smile a little bit, in a way (even if this was just how she had saw it) he had stood up for her and was going to now actually do as she had asked in the beginning. Now if Isaac could only lose that attitude of him they could have been best of friends by now. Settling back into her desk across the room, glancing over at his group for a moment, she dragged over a chair next to desk.

She took a look down at her very badly taken notes as she spoke, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “I didn’t know you and Fiora were that close,” she said. He could take that how he wanted. “At this rate you could’ve just let me copy your homework, don’t want you to get in trouble with your mates,” she said, but there was little seriousness in her tone. If anything, she had been thoroughly entertained.

Relieved when Nola didn't put up a fight about leaving his group behind, Isaac stalked across the detention room. The professor looked up, but upon seeing Nola's book in Isaac's hand, he dropped his eyes back to his papers. Isaac sunk into the chair she had brought next to her desk and exhaled loudly, irritable that Fio had said something and that it made him feel off balance. He was pretty sure he should stay away from all witches. No matter how casual he thought things were, there always had to be some drama; they always had something to say. It was annoying.

And there Nola was, talking about things she didn't know, and Isaac frowned at her. "Were not," He told her dryly, not bothering to look back over at his table. He didn't care if they were listening, but they probably weren't. His friends cared about him as little as he cared about them; it was part of their appeal. "I've already turned in my homework," Isaac said as he narrowed his eyes on the wood-paneled wall behind her. He was starring right past her because he was aggravated. "Yesterday," He reminded her again that her homework was late. He wouldn't have allowed her to copy his work even if he did have it, though.

Scowling for the hundredth time today, the Slytherin finally leaned forward across her desk, his long arms taking up more space than was fair, and he flipped open her book. Turning to the chapter she should have already finished, he reread the passage and then looked up at her. "So muggles," He began, not looking at her directly, but not avoiding her eyes anymore either, "Listen to music on more than just record players. Like their, uh, technology has advanced past that." Sometimes Isaac felt like it was the wizarding world that was living in the dark. Literally. Muggles had no idea about magic, and that sucked, but somehow they had created their own? They harnessed electricity, built insane buildings, all without a single charm or incantation. Not that he was impressed or anything.

"The assignment was to compare our music with theirs, on any level,"

Magnolia contemplated pushing him further on the Fiora question because she knew he would get annoyed by it; after what she had witnessed it was safe to say that the dynamic of the entire group’s friendship was ffar from the sort of relationship she was accustomed to. But decided against saying anything further on the topic because she’d start to sound like she cared and knowing Isaac, he’d know exactly how to turn that right around.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you the first time,” she replied when he emphasized that the homework had been due the previous day even though she had forgotten from the time he had initially mentioned it and now, but she wasn’t about to let him get away with pointing out her mistake, “Who’s the square now?” she smiled a little, the comment said loud enough for him to hear as she continued to now doodle on the parchment in front of her. What would someone like Isaac know? It isn’t like Magnolia had ever seen him do anything productive in the class.

Did Isaac actually pay attention in class? Strangely, at least to Magnolia, he started explaining the assignment and it sort of sounded like he knew what he was talking about. He hadn’t said anything groundbreaking, not yet anyway, but it was completely unexpected and in a way…attractive? Magnolia frowned a little at her own conclusions. She listened to him intently, suddenly very interested in what he had to say, her plan to further annoy and insult him any chance she got falling a little off the wayside.

But now she didn’t care about the assignment anymore. Magnolia rested her face on the hand that she had propped up on the desk, “Muggle music’s much better than the wizard’s stuff,” she said decisively, those were just facts. “ You like the muggle stuff too or is it beneath you?” she asked, the expression on her face serious even if she was teasing a little. She didn’t care care on a personal level, Magnolia decided, she was just doing feeling out for an answer.

Isaac narrowed his eyes at her when she called him a square, almost like he was daring her to repeat herself, but said nothing. He wasn't a square, not like she was anyway; he broke all sorts of rules and generally did whatever the fuck he felt like doing. Unlike what he thought Nola did, Isaac didn't go out of his way to fit into some picture-perfect mold of who he thought his friends wanted him to be. That was why she was a square, not because she was good at her classes like he was.

Pushing her attempt at an insult out of his mind, Isaac sat forward. He came over here to get away from his stupid friends, but since he was here, he might as well show her how much smarter he was than her. Explaining the assignment was easy but replying to what she said was less so. It wasn't so much what she said, but how she had said it, that was so frustrating to him. Like there was no room for debate, she did that a lot, he had noticed. Looking up from the page to find her eyes, Isaac shook his head at her. "How can music be beneath a person?" He asked, the frown on his face reaching all the way to his forehead. It left an unattractive wrinkle there.

In truth, Isaac lived for music, so much so that he even had one of those muggle machines that played a thousand songs and fit into his pocket. It barely worked here at Hogwarts, but that didn't mean he didn't try. Instead of answering her question, he ignored it. Isaac could have just said, 'yeah, I like music,' and it would have been so simple. Nothing was straightforward about the way these two interacted, though. So when he spoke, he asked a question of his own, finding his curiosity growing.

"What kind of music do you like?"

If his reaction to her question was anything to go by, it was rather obvious that he liked music and though it wasn’t anything spectacularly obscure, Magnolia was a little pleased to know that they did have something in common. But that was short-lived, it wasn’t as if she had forgotten all the terrible things he had said to her thus far and no amount of commonality on the topic of music was going to change her feelings about him. Hopefully, the Gryffindor girl was considerably weak-willed when it came to boys like these. Magnolia concluded all of her thoughts with a reminder that she didn’t actually care about Isaac Hackney at all, she just wanted to complete her assignment.

“I dunno,” she shrugged nonchalantly. Magnolia hadn’t actually said it with the intention of explaining herself, only to push him into answering the question. Had she asked sweetly or with the civility with which she often spoke to 99% of the population at Hogwarts, he would have found a way to turn it around and into an argument. Since Magnolia wasn’t interested in him making her a fool in front of his friends as he had earlier, she adjusted. Her parents would have been proud of her for being so observant and thinking ahead.

She shrugged again, reminding herself to make him work for her answers. But really she only did it because she wanted to impress him with her musical tastes and felt that his judgment was inevitable. Magnolia had never seen him as a specific genre, Isaac didn’t fit comfortably in any category in her head which only made him more frustrating as a person. But Magnolia was sure that she was much easier to see through, probably had pop music written all over her. That wasn’t entirely wrong, but she knew about many types of music (mostly thanks to Rheya’s influence). Even so she was curious to know what he’d say.

“Everything I guess, it depends on who I’m with,” she offered, turning her attention back to her parchment to pretend like she wasn’t that interested in the conversation. “And you?”

Isaac felt his eyes on the verge of rolling again when she explained what sort of music she liked in a very vague way. All he heard was that she listened to whatever music her friends liked, rather than having her own opinions or tastes, and in his judgemental mind, that tracked. The wizard blinked a few times when she parroted his question back at him, and he considered reminding her that this was not why he had come over here but then thought against it. Spending detention talking about music did not sound like such a bad idea to the teenager. There were far more boring things he could have been doing, like watching Duncan try and fail to outsmart Fiora.

While he wasn't keen to tell her all about how obsessed with the music he was, Isaac figured it wouldn't hurt to say little. It wouldn't be the worst thing she knew about him, after all, a fact that was less than comforting as his brain sought to remind him. "Not everything," he replied because everything had to be a negative answer. He couldn't have possibly said 'I like this, this and this,' oh no, he had to start with what he didn't like. Pessimism was the new black. "Jazz is shit, and don't even get me fucking started on country music." Isaac enjoyed precisely the sorts of music one might expect someone like him to. Indie rock, metal, angry stuff, but not always for the reasons assumed.

It wasn't like him to say more than a few words at a time, certainly not to reveal anything real and authentic about himself, but there was something about the topic of music that was freeing to Isaac. He could get lost in his mp3 player. "It has to have good lyrics because that is the most important part." He told her, sitting back in his seat as he thought about his current favorite songs. They changed with the hour, and he didn't just listen to his favorites now and then; Isaac was the sort who would play one song on repeat for hours. It was about the vibe, the mood, and he was consumed by it. "You know? Like shit that you can think about and get lost in."

Slowly, and obviously, Isaac began to realize that he had said more to Nola just then than he had since they first interacted on the train. But more importantly, and less believably, none of it had been rude, and all of it had been authentic. His eyes widened for a second before he looked away, avoiding her eyes again, as he counted the nails in the paneling behind her.

Were they having a conversation? Sort of. It was that thought that surprised her much more than the music he did not like. Magnolia did not mind jazz, it was in a way chaotic like her own life, but it also sounded good together, not that she would tell Isaac he’d just call her a square. Country music, on the other hand, was not normally her favorite type of music. But then again, Magnolia was the sort of girl that was open to experiencing life, even if that meant through music.

She would listen to everything at least once, she figured that was the only way to really have an opinion on what you liked and did not like. Of course, none of that overshadowed the fact that he had responded her question as if he were insulting her for not being a musical snob, as if she wasn’t cool or cultured enough to dislike a specific genre of music. She was not the narrow-minded one here, he was.

But in terms of lyrics, well she was not completely convinced there. “Music’s more important than lyrics,” she stated as if it were a matter of fact, not personal opinion. Anybody could write the lyrics of a song, but it took a special sort of talent to write music that touched others. Music that transcended time and space and language, lyrics could only do so much without a translation. “Then you’d think half of my playlist is shit,” she reasoned, not that she’d share it with him now.

Magnolia was not supposed to care about what he thought of her but found it sort of inevitable when it came to her peers. Especially not now. Maybe she needed to write Rheya again for some recommendations. Not that she wanted to impress him or anything, there were plenty of songs on her list that meant something or that she had stopped listening to because it evoked negative feelings. Magnolia was the sort of girl that assigned a song to every crush and listen to it on repeat until she either got sick of it or moved on.

“But I get it,” she said finally. She had heard what he was saying to her, even if she was still surprised that he was saying it to begin with. But at the same time, she had felt proud of herself for not sharing too much with him, “Sometimes I listen to the lyrics too,” she added. “My big sis is really into music, she’s sort of helped me pick out all the records I’ve got at home--” she started though she wasn’t sure why she felt the need to say all of that. Was she going to ask for his recommendations? Would she give some of her own? She looked up at him. “Anyway, if muggles don’t use record players what do they use?”

For the first time, Isaac wasn't entirely annoyed by the fact that she was, of course, disagreeing with him. When it came to music, he wasn't exactly open to the opinions of others, but he was at least willing to entertain them for a moment before shutting them down entirely. "Yeah, probably," He said through a laugh, agreeing with her that he'd think half of her playlist was 'shit.' The little ways she used curse words were somehow far less vulgar than how he did, like her using them some how made them a little less insensitive and grating.

Eventually, she came around, agreeing with him about the lyrics, even if it was only just, and Isaac sat up a little. When she wasn't fighting with him or being generally annoying, he actually found her company kind of... nice? She was opinionated, fuck yes, she was, but at least it kept the conversation moving. He nodded when she told him about her sister and the records she had and then stopped when she stopped talking. Isaac wondered if she had more to say but cut herself short, or if that was the end of the thought, but he didn't call her on it. If he was honest, he had sort of assumed she was the sort of witch who just listened to someone else's music. Or whatever happened to be on the wireless. The idea that she had a record collection back at home was interesting.

Isaac's eyes shifted back to the textbook when she returned their conversation to the assignment, and he blinked a few times. "You don't spend much time around muggles, do you?" He accused, not that he particularly minded either way. He was a pureblood, but not because his parents had made sure of it; it was just how it worked out. He grew up close enough to a muggle neighborhood that he might as well have been muggle-born.

"They have CD players," He told her as he flipped the page of her book to the previous chapter, the one they were supposed to have read last week, and pointed to the pictures showing what CDs and players looked like. "Cassettes too, but those are fading fast." Isaac considered telling her about the MP3 player he had back in his trunk but decided against it; he had always kept his obsession with muggle music close to the vest. "And these little devices called MP3 players, they are kind of like," He scrunched his nose, searching for a decent wizarding equivalent to the computer that held an unbelievable amount of songs on it.

"Like a potion vial, I guess, instead of carrying around all of the ingredients and the big ass cauldron, they boil the music down to something small enough to fit a ton of them inside the player."

It was too short of an exchange to be considered a conversation but it had been enough to attract her curiosity; he had been clear about what he didn't like but what about everything else that he did? There was a sudden need to collect details, song titles, artists, genres, anything that would satiate her desire for more concrete evidence. Magnolia considered the records on the shelves of her rooms, the only part of her life that followed an actual system, and thought about what he might enjoy listening to. Did he like vintage? Lately, the young witch enjoyed listening to music from the 60s, some of the more obscure stuff. Naturally, it was easy to forget the negative experiences when they weren't happening in the present. Magnolia had a bad habit of falling into those types of cyclical patterns: when things were fine, she forgot the unpleasant, when things were bad, she found a way to justify them. But for now, all she could really focus on was that Isaac was finally talking to her like she was a person rather than an enemy. And in a move that was characteristic of the young witch's naive personality, it almost felt like she had managed to unlock an achievement.

But just as quickly, whatever that thing had been dissipated into the air and they returned back to the task at hand. So he likes music, she concluded, not sure why the information bared remembering but committing it to memory all the same. Had she actually liked Isaac she might have considered assigning him a song, like she did to all the other boys that she had liked. And just as she considered that, trying to make sense of her confused thoughts, the perfect song came to mind. She forced the thought away. "Not really, don't have any muggle friends," she explained though it really wasn't much of an explanation at all. Magnolia didn't like feeling like she had to explain her lack of knowledge, but for whatever reason, she felt she had to do it now. It made her feel a mixture of irritation and embarassment she didn't really care for.

"Hm," she responded to whatever he had said on CD players because she wasn't really paying attention. She had fallen into the trap of her own thoughts, her eyes focused on him as she continued to consider what his favorite song might be or if he talked about these things with Fiora and Allison too. The girl didn't realize she was staring at him until he pointed at the picture in the textbook. She blinked at the picture wordlessly for a second before saying, "That's a CD player," then of course her brain finally caught up with her mouth. She felt dumb. "I mean, I know what a CD player is, I've seen them before," she clarified. It wasn't an ideal save but at least she had said something.

Okay, she was back now. Magnolia nodded as he continued to speak, not really sure what an MP3 was but she'd ask Rheya later. His analogy was considerably helpful, and so she wrote it down though she'd probably forget about it later. "But muggles still play records too, must mean they're still the best, right? Maybe I'll get an Mp3 player then," she stated but she wasn't really sure why he needed to know that.

"So yeah..." she started awkwardly, looking at him again, "I've got it, thanks or whatever."

Because this was the first time he'd had an actual conversation (was that what this was?) with Nola, Isaac was unsure how he felt about the way she was staring at him while he spoke. Sure, there was a chance that this witch was just that intense, like had to keep eye contact, laser focus, intense, but Isaac had a feeling that wasn't the case. Especially considering he often found her looking anywhere but where she should have been during classes. Not that he was watching her or anything.

When he pointed out the CD player picture, she said something like she had never seen before and gave her a weird look. She was strange, more so than usual, but it was less frustrating? So weird. Nola corrected herself, but Isaac's disbelief remained; apparently, he didn't believe a word she was saying.

Were records the best? Eh, Isaac wasn't sold on the idea. "That is debatable," he told her slowly. Sure the quality was a lot better, and he'd never had a CD he didn't scratch the piss out of, but the portability made all the difference, really. "You can't bring records everywhere, not the same way you can MP3s, anyway," He confessed. It had been a weird couple of minutes, they weren't bickering, and they were talking about something Isaac was remotely interested in. What was this? Opposite day?

And then she pulled a Magnolia and ruined it. His almost-smile darkened, and he sat back in his chair again, wishing he was anywhere but right here. "No, you really do not," He told her apathetically; Isaac didn't believe for a second she'd finish this assignment without him. Maybe he was egocentric, but whatever, that was what he thought. "But whatever, I have better things to do," Isaac said as he stood up out of his chair and began to push it into the table.

The teenage witch supposed that he made a good point on the portability of records which only further interested her in the possibility of attaining an mp3 player for herself, though she wasn’t sure how she’d go about it. This seemed like the sort of thing her Muggle Studies professor would like to hear, and at this point in her fifth year at Hogwarts, it seemed like the perfect topic to discuss with the man to gain a little favor. He seemed passionate about muggle music while he had been teaching it, or at least appeared that way when Magnolia had not been distracted by everything else, so she’d have to try her luck there.

When she had said thank you, it had been with the intention that they’d stop talking because all of that civility was making her incredibly uncomfortable but she hadn’t expected him to actually get up. She felt a little disappointed that he’d give up on her so easily but that also implied that she thought his interest in her went further than to make sure that she’d keep his secret. Magnolia was no stranger to these sorts of speculation and the fact that a small part of her also wished that it were true only made matters worse. But then again, she couldn’t outright beg him to stay either.

“I said I’ve got it, I didn’t say you had to leave,” she offered, keeping her eyes trained on the piece of parchment in front of her as she started to write something. Talking to him face-to-face made her nervous but in this way, she could say what she needed to say and not feel painfully aware of the expressions that were often so clearly written on his face. “There’s a record, it’s American,” she started, looking from her book to her parchment as she continued to write some garbage, enough to get a grade on the assignment. “Called Tragic Kingdom, you’ve heard of it? It’s my favorite right now,” she said. He had asked for what type of music she liked and now she had decided to give him a peak into her person. “But anyway,” she leaned back in her chair, looking up at him, “I’ve you’ve got to get back to hangman, I understand.”

Her clarification should have come as a welcome invitation, but instead, it just irritated Isaac further. If she didn't want him to leave, why did she say she was all set in that dismissive tone? He was confused, and Isaac hated the feeling. Maybe he had overreacted and jumped to the conclusion that she was telling him he could go? Probably. But if there was even a fraction of a chance that she was telling him what to do, he had to shut it down before it happened. If he got up and left first, then she had no control; it made sense in his mind. Annoyed, the Slytherin exhaled loudly at her and considered his options. He could go back to his table, he probably should have, but something was pulling him to sit back down with her. She was frustrating, but she wasn't dull.

She started telling him about a record, and his head tilted to the side, just enough to show he was interested, but not enough to reveal exactly how much. The fact that she knew the name of the record, and not just the one song she liked or the stupid band's name, impressed him. Like the title of a book, everything inside the book was necessary, sure, but the title was even more so. Isaac hated that the names of the albums were so often overlooked. He slid back into the chair and ignored her flippant attitude when she brought back up hangman and moved on.

"Never heard of it," He told her gruffly, his accent sounding even more robust as he spoke quietly to her. Isaac sat forward against the desk again and nodded. "What sort of music is it, then?" He asked, a tone in his voice like he had been waiting for the last six hours for her to finish her story when really, it had been seconds.

He had sat back down, that definitely had to be progress, right? Not that she was keeping track. Magnolia would have been perfectly fine had he gone back to his mates, though she would have judged him for it, maybe even gone as far as to call him a coward in her head, too. But when he stayed, then she started to feel a little like he had purposefully chosen her. It was a nice feeling to know that Isaac liked her enough to sit back down? She’d hate him for something he said soon enough but for now, she’d stay comfortably tucked within her little bubble of fantasy.

But when he said he hadn’t heard of the album, she did start panicking a little. It seemed like an album he would recognize, a band she had assumed was closer to the sort of thing he liked. Had she misread the situation or had it just been a poor attempt to impress the boy? The latter sounded more plausible. However Magnolia knew that she had his attention and if she wanted to keep him, she’d have to keep talking.

“It’s like…” she started, trying to find the right words to convey the sound. Magnolia had never been very good with words to begin with, “a combination of ska and punk, but not as aggressive?” she tried. She didn’t mind punk rock on its own either, she had a few good records on her shelf at home, but it did give off that feeling. “But I guess it’s more pop too,” she added as an afterthought, thinking of some of her favorites. “I thought it was pretty mainstream unless,” she looked up at him again and smirked, “you’re into really obscure stuff nobody’s ever heard of?”