A Little Crazy

Chapter Two

HI!! We're so happy you're back! We'd forgotten how much fun writing, posting & reading online can be, and would like to hug each and every one of you! Like we said before, this is a story we wrote a long time ago. It's been prettied up and is complete, so updates should be pretty frequent. We love your comments, votes, swoons and flails, and as always, happy reading! - christina & lauren

She wasn't quite sure what she was getting into. Her body had been moving without any voluntary input from her brain, and her knock on the door sounded louder than usual, even though her arm felt weak with anticipation.

The sound of bare feet padding to the door again spiked her nerves and she took a stumbling step backwards as it burst open and he stood before her, gorgeous and grinning.

"Come on in, A Little-Crazy-Neighbor Girl." He made a broad sweeping gesture with his hand before he noticed that she had stumbled. "Are you okay? Did I scare you?"

"No." But she laughed nervously anyway.

"Well, I didn't mean to open the door so unexpectedly," he teased, waving her inside.

"Exactly. Give a girl at least the customary ten seconds."

"See?" He grinned, shaking his head. "This is where I always mess up. I never know the rules."

She looked around and lost track of what she was going to say in response. He had started to unpack and the house looked like mayhem. There was barely any furniture: a couch in the living room, a small coffee table, a few crates of books. Most of the floor was covered with drums. Scores and scores of drums.

"Wow," she murmured. "You have a lot of drums."

She bit her lip and groaned inwardly.

"I do, and most of them I haven't seen in over three years. I hope it's not too loud for the neighbors, but man, I have missed these." He looked wistfully at a line of tall narrow drums against a wall in what used to be the dining room, and then shivered back into the present moment, reaching for the bag of food she carried. "Here, let me get that."

She handed him the bag and wandered into the dining room, letting her fingers run over the different shapes of wood, gourds, and metal. Some had bells, strings, and keys. Some were covered in hide, others in fibers. He came back from the kitchen and watched her pick up a goblet-shaped drum and run her fingers over the stitching.

"That one is a Djembe," he said, walking toward her and offering her some wine.

"Where is it from?" She put the drum down next to its twin and took the glass, swallowing a large sip and begging her body to relax.

He scratched the back of his head, thinking. "Well, you can find them almost anywhere now. They're used in all sorts of music. But I got these in Africa."

"You've been to Africa?" she asked, not sure why she was so surprised. If she had to guess, she would say he had been lots of places.

He nodded into his own wine glass. "Yep."

She walked to a pair of large drums shaped almost like wine barrels. "What are these?"

He swallowed and followed her, running his hand over the taut drum head. "These are both taiko. This one," he ran his hand over the longer of the two, "is a nagado-daiko. The other one is a sanchou shime-daiko."

"Let me guess . . . Japan?"

"Yes, Japan," he said, returning her smile and pursing his lips slightly. "And I am a Drew. A Colorful-Neighbor-Drew." His eyes were relaxed and familiar and she found it hard to break her gaze from his.