[maidstone] lyrids { k i }

APRIL 2004
7:55pm

cw: underage drinking

“Yes, I’m nervous, is it that obvious?” Billie asked, with a light laugh. “But not just nervous!” she added quickly, giving him a gentle touch on his arm, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. She withdrew her arm, then clasped both of her hands together in front of her to keep them from trying to adjust her hair, her makeup, or tug on the hem of her dress. “Excited, too,” she elaborated, going up on her toes for a moment, then down again, before making herself still.

Clearly, she had a lot of energy. A lot of nervous (and excited!) energy.

Her (Mavis’) dress was too short for her to be comfortable sitting down, the butterfly clips in her hair and the glitter on her eyelids a little too… gauche? Or something? And she was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by the music and what felt like it would inevitably build into an intense social atmosphere, but even so... It was impossible not to get caught up in everyone else’s excitement. This was a party. Billie was sixteen now, and she was going at a party.

The blonde glanced out at the fields, her gaze following the stony path down to the large greenhouse a little ways away. She glanced back at Ki. She gave into her need to fidget and smoothed her dress against her thighs, making sure there were no wrinkles, and wondered how on earth Mavis had gotten her into something that came up above her knees. It had seemed so fun when they’d been laughing in her room, but now that she was here, her opinion on it was oscillating.

“What about you?” she asked with a small smile. “Excited?”

The Mac and cheese had found its way to someone who was of age and knew a warming charm, thank God! Killian was feeling a little better about this party already. OF course, he was still nervous – it just didn't seem like a thing that happened to boarding school kids, these kind of parties, and he had told Billie as much. "I'm glad I'm not hosting, I would be nervous as all hell," Killian said, laughing a little. "Aren't you?"

She was, but she was excited, too, and fidgeting. Killian grinned. She was more like him now, in that. "Course I am" he confessed to her question. "It'll be good to just be kids, you know? Instead of deputy hall monitors."

Off duty. Really off duty. There was no chance of being roped into an emergency patrol or having to consol a crying first year. They could just be teens. Billie looked more like a teen now than... maybe ever. Glittery, with fun hair clips. "I like your outfit," he said gently, then, "Do you like it? It's very..." he looked for a nice way to say it and gave up. "Very Mavis." And it was cute. Killian chuckled, following Billie's gaze out the door.

"You don't have to greet everyone personally, you know," he teased. "You're allowed to eat something, get some water, whatever."

Deputy hall monitors, that was funny. It wasn’t all chastising and finger wagging; they also helped organise and set up events, helped students in their house with anything they needed (although perhaps Billie had made herself a little too available here?) and looked after the younger ones. She nodded, though, understanding his point. “Good to get a break from thinking about the you-know-whats, too” she added, giving him a sidelong look. She’d been doing her best not to think of her exams (her internal countdown knew the specific number of days, and she was keeping that to herself), but naturally it was difficult for her to let it go. Billie’s anxiety had been through the roof this term, though she’d done a pretty good job of keeping that to herself, too. Breakdowns were a private affair as far as she was concerned.

“Thank you,” Billie said, smiling and resisting the urge to adjust something, tug at a sleeve or whatever. She raised her eyebrows slightly when he trailed off, then relaxed when he settled on his girlfriend’s name as an adjective. “She did dress me,” Billie confessed. “Like a doll — hair, makeup, clothes.” She laughed, though, her words clearly laced with affection. “I like it,” Billie said, partly because she would die if it got back to Mavis that she didn’t. He was teasing her. “I will, I will,” she said, waving a hand, smiling. She hadn’t been hungry yet; nerves did a pretty good job of killing her appetite.

She leaned lightly against the kitchen counter, her eyes lingering out the door (the sun was just about set now), before she looked back at him. "Did you know there's a Maidstone crater on Mars?" She asked, smiling a bit. "Since nineteen seventy six," she added with a small nod, acting extra pleased with herself just to make him smile.

Good to get a break from thinking about the you-know-whats, too, said Billie, and Killian groaned. "No! We are not talking about the bird exams tonight," he declared emphatically. "Absolutely not. We. Are. Having. Fun." He was terribly concerned about them, too, but he hadn't brought anything to study with in a corner, and hopefully neither had Billie. "We are hanging out, and having fun, and not thinking about the stupid bird test, okay?" Ki was aware he was possibly too emphatic about this – he gave Billie another smile, trying to show he was being over the top for a laugh and not as a threat.

He could imagine the scene fairly well – Mavis, wielding a blush brush like a weapon, Billie sitting frozen like, that girl from the ballet Barbie was in, Killian had read about this, like Coppélia wile Mavis applied glitter everywhere. "I'm glad you like it!" he said, grinning. "She loves her glitter, but she just wants everyone to feel like they're a star, you know?" Of course, Billie knew. Killian tried to stuff his hands into his pockets – the denim was baggy, so it felt strange after years of slipping into robe pockets.

"No, I didn't know that," Killian said, eyes widening. "I knew they named one after Mendel, you know, the geneticist, but I hadn't heard that Maidstone made the cut– I guess the criteria is just M-names for one sector, isn't it?" Mercutio cut through the kitchen, depositing a crate of beer bottles on the counter and giving them both a wave. Killian nodded in acknowledgement, distracted by the interruption. He took a minute to remember what he was saying, then added, "You reckon they'll name one after him?"

Billie raised her eyebrows. The punctuated words were so abrupt in that typical Killian way — only a bit moreso right now. Stupid bird test. He had a lot of energy, she had a lot of energy; it was an energetic sort of evening. “No birds,” Billie agreed with a decisive nod, trying to match him. The whole decisive-bang-a-gavel thing didn’t suit her nearly as much as it did him, though, and Billie laughed at herself, shaking her head just a little. She could commit to not talking about OWLs, and as for fun...? Well, she was okay so far. That was probably the best she could do.

Emphatic wasn’t really her style.

She nodded about the Mavis thing. Billie was quiet and adaptable, while Mavis was loud and took up space — not a bad thing, just a social energy sort of thing. Billie liked her a lot, and she liked the way Killian had put that. Wants everyone to feel like they’re a star. She waved at their yearmate when he came through; she was sure he'd only learned her name this term when she'd been made prefect. She turned back to Ki with a smile. “I think NASA has an, er, small town naming thing? System? There' s a Maidstone town and a Maidstone borough,” She added. She was full of facts today, wasn’t she? She felt like Ki might find it endearing, but decided to tone it down from here so she didn’t come off as annoying, just in case.

"I didn't know about the small town thing," Killian said, eyes wide with wonderment. To be fair, he didn't think about Mars as much as he thought about just... space, and stars, and how you could stretch time out so thin as you traveled between planets. "I did know about the borough, though," he added, because he didn't want her to think him ignorant. "Just today, mind, when I was showing Mum where I was to be tonight on MapQuest."

(That had been something – Ki had to explain Apparition and Side-Along again, and had just managed to keep her from marching over to Hampstead to interrogate Mavis' brother and Mavis' brother's girlfriend on the mechanics of it. "It's safe," Killian had said, overestimating how safe the spell was by a mile. "I'll show you next summer when I've got my license," he had said, which had kicked off another conversation about summer driving school.)

His eyes kept drifting to the case of beer. It was a party, but they were Prefects, even if Killian's badge was tucked into his trunk in the corner of his room. Killian looked at Billie, then back at the bottles, then back to Billie. "I haven't ever drinked before," Killian admitted suddenly, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Just a sip of wine once or twice at Christmas parties." He hadn't really cared for it, it was too sweet. "You reckon we're... you know, allowed?"

Billie smiled a little more, pleased that she’d been able to tell him something about space that he didn’t know already. He looked impressed; she hoped he didn’t feel like she was trying to encroach on one of his favourite interests, or something. Hoped he didn’t feel like she was trying to outdo him. Hoped he understood she’d learned about these kinds of things for him, specifically.

“Oh,” Billie said, nodding politely. Whatever map quest was. It sounded like a game, or a story to her.

Killian hadn’t really had alcohol before. “No?” She asked, smiling a little at his — what was that, embarrassment?. She didn’t return his confession. She glanced at the bottles at his next words, eyebrows slightly raised. “Kendrick asked if I was going to drink tonight,” she said, a little uncertainty creeping in. He’d asked it in a way that was clearly meant to be casual, and Billie had found herself mildly affronted that he hadn’t been more strict, or just told her not to.

“I said I might have one or two.” Billie’s gaze returned to Ki’s. Well, she’d said no originally, and then she’d asked Ken his thoughts on it and they’d settled on one or two in a semi-collaborative way. But that sounded even more uncool than never having had alcohol before, so she didn’t elaborate. “I didn’t bring anything,” she added, in case that wasn’t wildly obvious.

He wondered if she was learning these space facts because of him, or if she had been interested before he had mentioned it. That lead down an uncomfortable line of thought vis-a-vis relationships and crushes past and present, so Killian just nodded. Let his lips curl into a pleased little smile.

Should he explain MapQuest? Killian wasn't sure if it would be too much, or condescending, or just too... something. "It's an internet atlas?" he said, trying anyway and regretting it immediately. "It's on the computer." Also a crapshoot – Billie wasn't in Muggle Studies. Killian scratched the back of his neck. "I'm making a mess of it, it's just a map. You can tell it what to be a map of, though." Stop! babbling!

Kendrick asked if I was going to drink tonight, Billie said by way of confession. It sounded like she had gotten sort of... backhand permission? Killian didn't know what to do with that. "My mum asked if there was going to be alcohol," Killian said, "and I said no, because I didn't realize –" he gestured at the bottles, "–Mercutio would be that bold, you know?" He shrugged. "I brought bloody pasta," he said with a small laugh.

I said I might have one or two. Killian nodded, trying to hide his surprise. He would have thought Billie would want to say sober – but then again, people (hopefully) thought the same about him. "One or two sounds about fair," he reasoned, then paused. "One second." He grabbed a bottle but didn't go to open it.

Killian went to the door, hollered at MacTaggert. "Oi, Mercutio, these for sharing?" He waggled the bottle. Mercutio, already halfway through his own, gave a crooked smile and thumbs up. Killian returned to Billie's side. "These seem to be fair game," he reported, setting the bottle in his hand down. It must be enchanted – it was cool to the touch, but no condensation was forming.

Billie nodded, ever polite, when he started explaining. Just kept nodding, even when his explanation got a bit too long. That was okay. She knew what a computer was, sort of. And maps that could be told what to be maps of? She could imagine a magical equivalent, and dutifully did so now.

“Oh,” the teenager replied again, raising her eyebrows. Kendrick was far more relaxed than Killian’s mum, she knew — Billie’s strict adherence to unwritten rules was, for the most part, self-imposed. She was far more genuinely worried about disappointing or upsetting Kendrick than an average parent could reasonably instill in their sixteen-year-old. She smiled when he mentioned the pasta. That was dorky.

Billie leaned against the kitchen bench when she was told to wait, one hand casually holding her opposite wrist in front of her. Her eyes tracked Ki as he went to the door that separated the kitchen and the dining room. She straightened up when he came back. “Shall we have one, then?” Billie asked with a small smile. She wanted to ask what it was exactly, but she didn’t have much experience to draw from; it wouldn’t really matter what it was. She still felt nervous, but she liked that they were lingering in the kitchen, instead of joining the others.

“We could sit on the back porch for a minute?” she suggested, her suggestion sounding a lot more like a question as she nodded at the open door on the other side of the kitchen.

Billie smiled at him when he mentioned the macaroni. Killian was embarrassed, but not embarrassed to be seen embarrassed by it. He shook his head. "Seemed like a good idea this morning," he said. "If it survives the night, it's pretty decent reheated." Who cares! Killian bit his lip, smile not quite fading. Who would be here in the morning? Anyone? Who was on cleanup duty? "Let me know if I should come by tomorrow, to clean up?" he said without thinking. "Unless you all have already figured that out." Which was likely.

Shall we have one? Killian looked at Billie, then to the bottle. "Suppose we should," Killian said, eyeing the bottle with altogether more wariness than it probably needed. Was it a twist off? Or was it magic? Or would he have to dig around Billie's kitchen for a bottle opener? Why hadn't Mercutio brought cans?! "Back porch sounds lovely." There were worst places for his First Drink to occur, after all. He pulled out another bottle and followed Billie to the porch.

When they got there he passed a bottle to Billie, examining the label and then the lid mechanism. It came off on its own, and a little bit of form threatened to spill over the edge. "Right," he said, holding out the bottle towards Billie. "This is what you do, right? You make a toast and clink the neck of the bottles?" He felt extremely silly asking. "Christ, I don't know," he said, smiling in an embarassed sort of way.

Billie kept her smile small as he went on about the pasta. Dorky! “No, no, don’t worry about that,” she said, waving a hand. She didn’t love cleaning (did anyone?) but it wasn’t too bad. Relaxing, sometimes, and productive always. Most importantly, she didn’t want to put anyone out — not Ken, not the girls and not Killian. If she had it her way, she’d be doing it all by herself.

Back porch it was. Billie paused for the smallest moment, waiting for him to lead the way, before she remembered quickly that this was her house. That was a little strange, wasn’t it? Other than Phillip, she hadn’t ever had a friend over in her space, before. She’d never hosted a sleepover, never had friends over for a ‘movie’ or even just for tea. Did this house really feel like hers, she wondered? It had last summer. She took Killian outside, where the sky had only just shifted past twilight and into proper night, suddenly reflective on the way that different spaces felt depending on who filled them.

So, she couldn’t help but remember a different night on the back porch.

“Thank you,” Billie said, taking the bottle from him and holding it in a square of dim light filtering out from the window beside them. She inspected the label as if she understood anything on it. Not wanting to sit on the little outdoor two-seater, mostly because of her dress, she moved instead to the stairs, leaning her back against the wooden railing. He’d taken the lid off of his drink, so she did the same. She held onto the metal cap, unsure what she should do with it.

“Oh?” She said, raising her eyebrows slightly. “And you feel like I know?” Billie asked, clearly teasing. She laughed lightly, holding the drink out just like he was. She felt a little nervous, but was happy to be out here, a couple of walls and doors between them and the group. “To?” she prompted, smiling at him a bit.

Billie looked at him funny, like he was supposed to lead her to the back porch. Killian didn't know where the back porch was! The moment was brief. He followed, one beer bottle in each hand, to the back porch. It was just becoming night. "Wow," Killian said without thinking, looking above the trees into the darkening sky. "The view must be incredible at night." The Maidstone house was ways away from everything. It couldn't possibly have the light pollution that his place in Camden was subject to.

The label meant nothing to him, aside from the percent ABV – but of course, Killian wasn't sure what a high or low ABV was supposed to be. The liquid didn't smell like much, but it wasn't offensive to smell either. He tucked the cap into his front pocket. Did wizards have recycling? He wasn't sure. At Hogwarts the rubbish bins just sort of... cleaned themselves, which was extremely disorienting. If it was all being teleported into a great big garbage patch in the ocean, he would rather take his litter home, thank you.

He flushed again, shaking his head. "Alright, fair enough," he conceded, letting Billie needle him a little bit on this. "I have once again indulged in Ravenclaw reductionism, that's my bad." Killian held out the bottle, the neck of his just an inch from Billie's. "Hm. To..." Killian scrunched up his face in thought for a moment. "To teenage stereotypes?" Nah, that didn't sound right. "To new experiences," he settled on, tapping the glass bottle to Billie's lightly.

Billie looked up at the sky, copying him. On a clear night like tonight, the view was incredible. She wanted to take a few steps further out from the house, for a better view of the darkening sky and the thin sliver of visible moon. She wanted to lead him out further into the field, turn around and point out her old bedroom at the top of the house.

She nodded in agreement, not moving. “The top floor of the house is just one room,” she told him. Her voice was soft. “Windows on all four sides.” Billie glanced back at him. “You have to go up a ladder — I suppose it’s like an attic, or a loft?” She wasn’t really sure what a loft was, but the room didn’t really feel like an attic. She almost offered to take him up there later, when it was dark in earnest and the stars were out, but something tugged at her, preventing it. A memory of taking someone else up there, perhaps. A memory of looking at stars with a different boy.

The line between excitement and anxiety was painfully flimsy, she thought. At the moment, she felt like she could go either way depending on what she was focused on, what she was thinking about. She felt like she could laugh in an excited, nervous sort of way, but she felt like it would be easy to lean into the tenseness, the twisty feeling in her stomach.

Ravenclaw reductionism. That was funny, and she smiled a little. “Well if we’re reducing, I still feel like you should know,” Billie said matter-of-fact, like she was offering a reasonable pointin a debate. “Don’t teenage parties seem much more a Gryffindor thing?” She smiled when their bottles tapped. “New experiences,” she repeated, before bringing the bottle to her lips.

Windows on all four sides. "Sounds incredible," Killian said, an air of wistfulness whispering its way into his voice. "Maybe one day I can bring my telescope over, we can put it up there, or on the lawn." What he wouldn't give to be here during a lunar eclipse or a transit of Mars. With the last of the sunbeams fading, the first stars blinking into his vision, Killian was sure he could see everything from this house. If only Billie would let him.

Killian watched Billie smile at his joke, feeling quite pleased with himself. I still feel like you should know, however, sounded like a loaded gun in Killian's ears until she clarified. "Maybe," Killian said, trying not to show his momentary lack of faith in her. Billie didn't even know what those stereotypes were, right? He shook his head. "But since when have I been a typical Gryffindor?" He shrugged, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. "You wouldn't care for me if I was," he teased back.

He took a sip, made a face. "Christ, that's something," he said, staring into the bottle for a moment. After a beat, he took another sip. It wasn't as bad the second time.

He sounded wistful, she thought.

The stars made her feel wistful too, though probably for different reasons. Phillip loved the night sky, too — knew it well enough to have favourite constellations, favourite astronomical events, so of course she thought about her ex boyfriend. But Billie had loved the stars longer than she’d loved him; her father had taught her their names, had drawn star maps with her as a child. She didn’t think about it too much, and wasn’t sure why she was doing so now, but it was all very sentimental for her, if she let herself delve.

“Maybe in summer…?” Billie suggested. Delving wasn’t so appropriate now, so she stopped doing it. No fathers, no ex boyfriends.

The Lyrid meteor shower was later in April; they’d be back at school by then. She tried to think ahead, tried to remember if anything interesting would be happening in the night sky in summer. There were some more meteor showers, she thought, and lots of conjunctions and perigees and all of those regular night-sky things. They’d have to be up late for it to be dark enough in summer, though, and she felt a little self-directed disapproval at the idea, even though she doubted Kendrick would have a problem with it.

“I like Mactaggert,” Billie protested, playing along. ‘Like’ was a slight stretch; it was more of a lack of dislike, in the way she didn’t really dislike anyone. And she felt guilty as soon as she’d said it, because whatever indications there seemed to the contrary, she was sure there was more to him — as there was to everyone — than the short list of character traits typically associated with the red and gold house.

Billie covered her lips with her free hand as she swallowed, keeping her expression blank. It tasted different to other alcohol she’d had in the past, but still bad. A petulant part of her disliked that it came in a glass bottle; it didn’t feel proper to drink from. He took another sip, so she did too. "It's... Not terrible?" she offered, although that might not have been definitionally true.

"Oh!" Billie said suddenly, straightening up. "Could you — Actually, never mind." Billie placed her bottle down on the little wooden table beside the two-seater. "I'll be back in just one moment, would you wait? I'll be quick." She waited for his assent before disappearing into the house.