Playing the Matchmaker
Chapter 2
"Mom, can I see a concert, tonight?" The young boy called down to his mother, who he guessed was cooking lamb chops on the stove. The voice that came back was highly suspicious, "What sort of concert?" Carl stuck his tounge out, Ginger wouldn't be asked that, then again sweet Ginger never did the bad stuff in front of Lois' eyes. "It starts at an early time, seven or maybe six. Courtney Gripling invited me..." he was cut of by Ginger. "Why would Courtney invite you to a concert, Carl?" He heard footsteps, both from the landing and from the stairs. Ginger reached his door first, flanked by Dodie and Macy. Soon Lois came up behind them, "You.." Lois started, Carl frowned at his mother, who seemed for once in her life to be stumbling to find the right words. "Carl, I realise young boys get crushes, but I really don't think..." She stopped as Carl broke down in to hysterics. "What's so funny?" asked Ginger. "Mom, Ginger, ladies. Nothing bad is happening. Courtney is not seducing me, and I do not have a crush on her. Courtney just invited me because of these extra tickets and since it's supposedly more my style, she invited me to accompany Blake." Lois visibly relaxed. "I'm still not sure, these things can be dangerous, besides she may have said seven as the meeting time. I don't want you out alone, maybe Ginger and some of her friends can go with you." "Mom, you can't, you just," Carl was sure that his chance to talk to Blake would be ruined if they were there, "I..I don't know if Courtney or Blake would like it. Anyway, there might not be any more tickets." He crossed his fingers, and prayed deeply. Lois raised an eyebrow. "Fine, but I'm still wanting you to call her. What concert is it?" Carl shrugged. "Dunno, the line broke up. See, told you I need a better telephone. Hey, can I get a cellphone?" "Not a chance Carl." The three teenagers left, probably to talk about some guy named Ian again. Carl looked at his mother, a pleading puppy-dog look in his eyes. It was one he had gotten from Hoodsey. The gullible friend was becoming quite the little mastermind. Carl inwardly beamed with pride at that. "Ginger has one, why can't I have one?" "Ginger didn't let out the mice in her biology lab, did she?" "What can I say," Carl looked angelically at his mother, "When I see suffering I just have to help." He placed a hand over his heart, looking sorrowful, though the glint in his eyes ruined it. "it is a curse!" He was pleased to note his mother suppress a chuckle. "Fine, you can go, but be on your best behaviour, or else." She turned and left, ignoring her only son sweetly call, "Or else what?
~****~ The problem, Blake mused, with his sister, was that she hardly ever let go off an idea. The two girls, abandoning their own hunt for clothes, had turned on him. After being subjected to clothes that should not be worn in public he was ready to collapse. Miranda and Courtney, were just beginning. "How about something, well light and airy! Maybe a nice shirt, said Courtney thoughtfully. Miranda shook her head, "No, it'd just make him look skinny." She looked him up and down. Blake squirmed, as he felt Miranda's cool and calculating eye on him. Deciding to risk it, Blake put forward his own suggestion, to find something on his own. The telling off that he had received from Miranda, made him wish he were in a jar with his tonsils. His sister had booked five seats for some Nu metal concert; Blake had suggested something, slightly classical. Again Miranda snubbed his ideas. The fair-haired boy felt she could see into the future and prepared a witty retort beforehand. He didn't know who the other seat was for, and knew better than to ask. After much anguish, mostly on Blake's part they were leaving the death trap, named the mall. Passing the Gap, Blake's mobile rang. He plucked it from his pocket with out thinking. His hand pressed the small silver device to his cheek. "Hello, Blake Gripling speaking." "Hey, Blakey-boy!" Blake almost let go of the mobile, as he paled visibly.
And we shall leave it there. Sorry this chapter took so long, but I was at a loss for what to do with this one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first, if I get as many for this chapter you shall see the third one out pretty quickly.
Chapter 2
"Mom, can I see a concert, tonight?" The young boy called down to his mother, who he guessed was cooking lamb chops on the stove. The voice that came back was highly suspicious, "What sort of concert?" Carl stuck his tounge out, Ginger wouldn't be asked that, then again sweet Ginger never did the bad stuff in front of Lois' eyes. "It starts at an early time, seven or maybe six. Courtney Gripling invited me..." he was cut of by Ginger. "Why would Courtney invite you to a concert, Carl?" He heard footsteps, both from the landing and from the stairs. Ginger reached his door first, flanked by Dodie and Macy. Soon Lois came up behind them, "You.." Lois started, Carl frowned at his mother, who seemed for once in her life to be stumbling to find the right words. "Carl, I realise young boys get crushes, but I really don't think..." She stopped as Carl broke down in to hysterics. "What's so funny?" asked Ginger. "Mom, Ginger, ladies. Nothing bad is happening. Courtney is not seducing me, and I do not have a crush on her. Courtney just invited me because of these extra tickets and since it's supposedly more my style, she invited me to accompany Blake." Lois visibly relaxed. "I'm still not sure, these things can be dangerous, besides she may have said seven as the meeting time. I don't want you out alone, maybe Ginger and some of her friends can go with you." "Mom, you can't, you just," Carl was sure that his chance to talk to Blake would be ruined if they were there, "I..I don't know if Courtney or Blake would like it. Anyway, there might not be any more tickets." He crossed his fingers, and prayed deeply. Lois raised an eyebrow. "Fine, but I'm still wanting you to call her. What concert is it?" Carl shrugged. "Dunno, the line broke up. See, told you I need a better telephone. Hey, can I get a cellphone?" "Not a chance Carl." The three teenagers left, probably to talk about some guy named Ian again. Carl looked at his mother, a pleading puppy-dog look in his eyes. It was one he had gotten from Hoodsey. The gullible friend was becoming quite the little mastermind. Carl inwardly beamed with pride at that. "Ginger has one, why can't I have one?" "Ginger didn't let out the mice in her biology lab, did she?" "What can I say," Carl looked angelically at his mother, "When I see suffering I just have to help." He placed a hand over his heart, looking sorrowful, though the glint in his eyes ruined it. "it is a curse!" He was pleased to note his mother suppress a chuckle. "Fine, you can go, but be on your best behaviour, or else." She turned and left, ignoring her only son sweetly call, "Or else what?
~****~ The problem, Blake mused, with his sister, was that she hardly ever let go off an idea. The two girls, abandoning their own hunt for clothes, had turned on him. After being subjected to clothes that should not be worn in public he was ready to collapse. Miranda and Courtney, were just beginning. "How about something, well light and airy! Maybe a nice shirt, said Courtney thoughtfully. Miranda shook her head, "No, it'd just make him look skinny." She looked him up and down. Blake squirmed, as he felt Miranda's cool and calculating eye on him. Deciding to risk it, Blake put forward his own suggestion, to find something on his own. The telling off that he had received from Miranda, made him wish he were in a jar with his tonsils. His sister had booked five seats for some Nu metal concert; Blake had suggested something, slightly classical. Again Miranda snubbed his ideas. The fair-haired boy felt she could see into the future and prepared a witty retort beforehand. He didn't know who the other seat was for, and knew better than to ask. After much anguish, mostly on Blake's part they were leaving the death trap, named the mall. Passing the Gap, Blake's mobile rang. He plucked it from his pocket with out thinking. His hand pressed the small silver device to his cheek. "Hello, Blake Gripling speaking." "Hey, Blakey-boy!" Blake almost let go of the mobile, as he paled visibly.
And we shall leave it there. Sorry this chapter took so long, but I was at a loss for what to do with this one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first, if I get as many for this chapter you shall see the third one out pretty quickly.