The Life of Brenna Normal [NANOWRIMO 2014]

➆ Stew Beginnings

           / Stew Beginnings \

                                                               ❝I'm free to do what I want any old time.❞

 "No, mom. We're not dating." Bridger groaned right away, a tint of pink splashed on his cheeks.

 Brenna blushed as well. This wasn't how she imagined meeting Bridger's mom and she desperately hoped it wasn't how she would meet his dad either.

 "Why didn't you tell me it was a girl?" Mrs. Nal went right on with her questions. "I would have cleaned up the house more and dusted and oh I would have done so much more if I had known."

 Bridger awkwardly tugged at his collar and shrugged. "I didn't think the gender of my," He stumbled when he realized that they weren't quite friends yet. "Of my buddy would matter much."

 "Mrs. Nal," Brenna tried to interrupt kindly. "You wouldn't have to do anything special for me. This place looks like you have maids cleaning it every day compared to my room."

 Mrs. Nal looked at Brenna and grinned, pleased with her soft reactions to her flustered ways. "Oh dear, you must call me Delilah. The title Mrs. Nal seems so, oh I don't know, it's just never something I've gotten used to I suppose. My name is Delilah so you must simply call me that."

 Brenna found herself intrigued by Delilah's bright and fluttering personality. She was unlike any of the mom's of her other friends and she certainly didn't' mind. She seemed to put on a performance every time she spoke. The Normal girl could feel herself grinning as she grew to enjoy her boisterous appearance.

 "Of course, Delilah." She replied.

 Deliliah Nal beamed in response. "Oh my, I've forgotten the stew on the stove. I have to go get it." With a wave of her hand she had skipped over to the colorful kitchen leaving the two teens behind.

 "Sorry about my mom," Bridger whispered to the girl immediately. "She gets these thoughts in her head. I should have warned you better before coming in."

 "Bridger," Brenna laughed quietly. She walked over to their couch as sat down on the edge of it lightly, as if she was scared to ruin the leather with her dusty sweater. "It's fine. I like her. Your home is very different from the atmosphere at mine to say the least and I enjoy it immensely"

 "What's so different about it?" He inquired. "As compared to your home I mean."

 Brenna fidgeted around in the seat. This was not a conversation she was comfortable bringing up yet. "Let's just say my family is more quiet, I guess." That was all she could manage to say truthfully about her family without going into rants on how weird and annoying they were.

 Bridger could sense her apprehension to this topic so he switched the subject on to something lighter. "So, are you a writer or?" He left her to fill in the blank space.

"No," She shook her head a bit sadly. "I come up with story ideas and scenes I can just never seem to write them down. I've been a terrible writer for as long as I can remember but yet I keep creating fantasies in my head."

"Maybe I'll be able to write some of your ideas," He gave her a smile which she returned gratefully.

 "That would be rad."

Silence fell over the two quickly yet it was somehow peaceful. It seemed as both were thinking about how to go about a conversation but, neither could come up with an answer. Brenna's hands smoothed out the fur and leather of their couch as they glanced around the room, looking for an object that would make them think of something to say.