Kim's new volunteer job was good for one thing: it gave her plenty of time for her mind to wonder, while her hands were busy with data entry and processing the applications. She usually was contemplating her somewhat dim future prospects: her dad's salary went to cover the rent and groceries. Her earnings were earmarked for college fund and an occasional splurge like new pair of running shoes. She loved her jobs for the free Wi-Fi they provided, because it meant she could scrape by the cheapest phone service plan.

Her supervisor was a guy in late twenties named Steve, who essentially left her alone and only checked in when he had another number of files to process. She made several changes to the flat file that they wanted her to use to input the information. It appeared that there were some repetitions in the data input. She brought it to Steve's attention, who told her to do what she thought best, as long as he could run the analytics on the file.

Her school friends proved to be a fun bunch. Milton could be relied on to help out with research and was essentially a walking encyclopedia. He also had a surprising sartorial streak. He basically noticed that she rotated between several pairs of jeans and shorts and a number of tops. He suggested a look book with a way of mixing and matching her clothes, while changing the entire look with a few accessories. She would have been embarrassed that her limited wardrobe was noticed, but Milton never focused on that; instead, he saw it as a fun challenge. When she wondered about his fondness for clothes, he revealed that he was in a drama club and learned a thing or two.

Jerry was an aspiring dancer, but, like her, he had to work to pay for extra stuff in his life and the two of them bonded over shared stories of finding deals. He also worked in a falafel shop and was forever telling stories about the owner, Phil.

She actually met the guy. He was quite a character. He first told her that she was too fair to be truly pretty and then told her that she should rejoice that she lived in America, where men knew nothing about beauty. But she won him over when they discussed the relationship between kibbi and the falafel.

Julie was a smart, if a little bookish, girl and she and Kim had a sleepover once and Julie revealed that she never had such experience before. It would appear that her intelligence isolated her. Julie lived with her uncle Ty, a sensei at the Black Dragons dojo, where Brody went. Kim made a mistake of asking ifJack, who she knew was a black belt, trained with Ty. That was a wrong thing to ask, because apparently Jack trained with Rudy, a sensei at the rival dojo. Jack was also a cousin to Ty's best student Kai. Kim figured that Ty was competitive with Rudy and somehow the competition between sensei, dojos nad students, who were also cousins, was a very big thing. For her part, Kim was wondering if she'd be brooding and aloof too had she been in the middle of such drama.

Kim saw a number of Seaford High students come and go through the GreenBean. She sort of reconnected with Grace and Kelsey, but she no longer had time for cheerleading and they never approached her at school. It seemed that Donna disapproved of Kim and both girls followed the unspoken rule.

She saw Jack too. He would come every now and then and ask for a cappuccino. He usually finished just that one cup in the coffee shop and left with a nod to her. He hasn't made another attempt to talk to her and Kim felt a teensy bit guilty that she was so short with him the last time he tried to talk to her. Still, despite his maybe not so condescending nature, he was a terribly awkward guy with apparently Shakespearean drama in his life and Kim could honestly say that she didn't have time for that.

It wasn't until another slow and quiet day when Kim played her own playlist while trying to finish the Chemistry homework thatshe had another interaction with him. Jack was in the store again, one of only three customers at the moment. She saw him get up and fully expected him to leave, but he approached the counter instead.

"That is a very eclectic mix of music. I can't quite put a finger on a style this album supposed to be." He sounded uncertain, but not confrontational.

"It's a playlist. For quiet afternoons." Kim left it at that and saw that Jack figured it was her playlist.

"You must have had a more formal training in music. Some of it is too obscure for general public..." he trailed off as if surprised that he revealed some of his own uncommon knowledge.

"Yes, I studied vocal when I was younger. My tutor was quite a believer in a well rounded musical education." Kim stopped recalling Ms. Evelyn and her crazy mane of curly hair. "And you? Do you play any instruments?" She asked with a smile, surprised to have this conversation.

"I started with a cello. And picked up guitar along the way. But is has been a while since I played either of them..."

"Well, I say, once a music lover - always a music lover. Sometimes, music is better at saying everything than words." It was Kim's turn to be surprised at her own volition to talk to this guy so openly.

She grabbed the wipe and started cleaning the counter just to keep herself busy.

"I agree." His voice was grave and she wondered what his music choice would be conveying. He was such a puzzle.

"Do you want another cup?" She asked, not sure what else to say.

He shook his head and left with a customary nod. His expression was less grave, but he did not look like he was pleased with himself.


Jack been surprised when his father asked him to vet the charities that applied for donations to his father's company. To he honest, he was surprised that they even donated anything. His father was many things, but altruistic wasn't one of them. It all became clear after his father spent half hour explaining the reasons for donating anything: it was expected and it should be done in a way that was recognized, and yet not boastful. Suitably flabbergasted by all of this reasoning, Jack picked the letters and began his review. He hoped it would take him long time, because it gave him a legitimate reason to avoid being his father shadow.

He was more lucky in evading being the Brewer son in training than in dodging Lindsay. Brody has been inviting him to join him and the team several times now and There were only so many excuses that he could use. His father encouraged all forms of athletics and Jack got some afternoons off to fulfill his team building obligations. So, Jack was at Brody's house, ostensibly hanging out with the team, but in reality it was just a party. His team mates were there, but so we're other jocks and all of cheer leaders and their friends. Lindsay attached herself to him and it would have been too obvious to just turn away while she talked... And she talked... About everything under the sun: the cheer squad (most girls were horrible, except for Donna and obviously Lindsay since she could so easily critique); the basketball team (she was sure that Jack was just as good as Brody); the general population of the school (people with bad fashion tastes and without any discernible good qualities); music (she had firm preference for top 40 list); importance of legacy that it being passed on to the new generation. Here she smiled coyly as if she was being subtle and was pleased with herself. Jack wondered if her tune would change once she heard Christopher Brewer's opinion on pleasant distractions.

By the time that he could politely leave, he kind of wished that Kim's attitude was contagious.

He also found himself drawn to the GreenBean on more than one afternoon. He told himself that it was because the cappuccino was very well made and even their plain black coffee was good since they imported some of the best beans from Ethiopia. All of this he found out from talking to other baristas. He showed up at the GreenBean several days in a row before he figured out Kim's schedule. When she was there, he was tongue tied and awkward as if her mere presence rendered him stupid. It was very frustrating. He told himself many a time to stop this weird curiosity that drew him to her, but day after day he came to the GreenBean to sit and observe.

She was very genial and had such happy attitude that he wondered what was it about him that made her so short and cold with him. She also seemed to work somewhere else after her shift at the coffee shop. He overheard her talking to one of her friends from school, the curly haird Latino boy Jerry, lamenting the lack of a car because it made her commute home long. He wondered if she was on her way home that night she was attacked. He felt weird hollow sensation in the pit of the stomach at the thought that she faced such threat every night she worked.

Once again he reminded himself not to concern himself with the random girl's safety.

Then, one overcast afternoon, she replaced the music with something so unexpectedly complex and diverse as to have Mussorgsky and Ravel, as well as some bossa nova.* He couldn't contain his curiosity and asked her about it. It was as if the music cast some spell over them: he didn't stutter or offend and she was polite and friendly. He learned that she sang or at least used to. And when she asked about him, he told her of the cello. When he left, he felt both relieved to have proven to himself that he could have a decent conversation with her, and displeased that he volunteered more of the personal information. He also wondered why and when has he stopped playing both the cello and the guitar.

The next afternoon he was busy with the review of the charities. There were the obvious choices: those aimed at combating various illnesses or raising awareness of them. There were some that worked with disadvantaged children or women. There were a few helping animals. He was at once impressed at the sheer variety of them and disheartened that despite all the efforts, illnesses and poverty existed. It put him in a somber mood and his training has suffered. Rudy didn't press for details, used to Jack's sometimes gloomy attitude, and let Jack get away with half the focus.

His father had a few more lectures for him on the virtues of vigilance with employees and guarding one's confidences, lest one would be exploited by one's subordinates and associates.

One such lecture was delivered during the breakfast and his mother's expression was so carefully blank that Jack felt a horrible pain that had to be her own. He slid his hand under the table and squeezed her hand, and she returned it. Both made sure that their faces didn't show anything other than polite attention. Jack suddenly recalled that it was his mother who insisted on him studying music. His father always scoffed at the notion of his Karate son doing something so 'soft' but his mother insisted that he needs an artistic influence in life. Still, his father ultimately prevailed: Jack dropped after a series of losses to Kai two years ago.

He made a short list of charities that were worth the effort in his mind and the next business dinner his father made a point to mention that Jack selected some 'worthy cause organizations' that their company was looking into. Jack had to clench his jaw tight for fear of blurting something about it.

He was at the dojo one day and saw a familiar ginger genius outside the falafel shop. He was talking to Jerry and Jack came up to them to say hello, when he saw that they were with Kim. She looked at him when he approached and he was taken with how pretty she looked. Her hair had been braided around her face, leaving majority of it loose and she was wearing a dress, something that he noticed she almost never wore.

It was like he was cursed. He was awkward and stiff again and when Jerry and Milton broke away into a separate conversation, he could only talk about weather or school. It was Kim, who saved the situation. In response to him mentioning the most recent school rally about tolerance and prevention of bullying, she smiled wryly.

"Everyone looked so serious staring mid-distance like they are contemplating it. I wanted to get into their head to know what could they possibly be thinking. I always suspected that people cannot be forced into introspection. I think our nature is to be contrarian. But then, of course, am I not proving the point myself by thinking all of this instead of contemplating the subject?"

She said it all while smiling and he knew she was laughing at herself. That she wasn't merely disparaging others. His next reply was all as surprising to him as it was unexpected.

"I have a cousin, who probably would be the best at looking moved by such a rally. Growing up he was the most primly behaved child. He was such a kiss-up to his parents and our grandfather... of course, behind their back, he was so mean and vicious... I used to pinch or kick him under the table to see if his perfect composure broke. But I only made myself look bad..." he added ruefully and ahe laughed with him.

"Well, I am glad I am not the only one with a contrarian streak."

They parted ways - him to go home and her to see movie and have dinner with friends - both thinking about the other.

Kim thought that the honest smile transformed his face making him very attractive. He scolded himself for blurting out such truths about himself and his family.

*I was thinking that Kim had that one aria/song from Khovanschina by Mussorgsky "Uletai" and Pavane for the Dead Infanta by Ravel.

Bossa Nova is the form of Brazilian jazz, although it is so much more.