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wannabesewcrafty · 2 years

Text

Crushing It

Fandom: Debris (TV)

Summary: Her little sister’s new tutor isn’t what Finola is expecting…

Notes: inspired by this prompt via @dailyau from a deactivated account

“Dee! When’s this tutor of yours getting here? Dinner’s almost ready!” Finola called upstairs.

“I don’t know!” her fifteen-year-old sister shouted back. “I’m not a mind reader! And I can’t control traffic or whatever is making him late!”

Her sister’s tutor was supposed to have arrived at 5. It was now half an hour past that.

“Well, come downstairs, so you can start once he gets here!”

There was no reply, at least nothing audible. As Finola tasted her spaghetti sauce one more time, she imagined Dee Dee grumbling to herself in her bedroom as she touched up her lipstick in her vanity mirror. Unlike her, Dee Dee had embraced makeup with a passion. Finola had followed their mother’s example and used a light hand with the stuff, just a nude lip color and a little perfume when she felt like it.

The doorbell rang just as Finola finished draining the spaghetti noodles in the kitchen sink.

“I’ll get it,” she called, knowing Dee Dee was still trying to delay the inevitable. This was the third tutor they were trying. The first one, Niels Vinka, had been friendly but he had refused to stop bringing his snack of pickled fish to the house, which had made Dee Dee constantly gag. Gary Garcia had been next, who their father George had really liked, but, ironically, after one conversation with George about pursuing your passions, Garcia had announced that he was resigning to move out of state and involve himself in environmentalism.

Finola hoped that what they said about the third time being a charm was right. She pasted a friendly smile onto her face and pulled open the heavy, ornate front door to their family’s large house. She had been picturing a skinny boy with wireframe glasses who would be shorter than her. She was taller than the boys in her senior class after a growth spurt over winter break.

She wasn’t taller than this boy, however. Dee Dee’s new tutor looked more like he was going to brave the wilderness than coach a student. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, an olive green shirt, and a black leather jacket. He had a knapsack, also olive green, slung over one shoulder. Stubble was making an appearance along his jawline, making her wonder if he had already graduated high school. His dark brown hair was sticking up, almost as if he had bed head.

“Hi,” he said. “Are you Dee Dee Jones? I’m here for our tutoring session.”

“I’m her sister,” she said. “Finola,” she added. Suddenly, she remembered she still had on her worn apron, which was stained here and there with red splotches of tomato sauce from making the spaghetti. Her visitor either didn’t notice, or he was too polite to say anything, but it made her feel self-conscious.

“I’m Bryan,” he said. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“It’s all right. You’re here now. Please, come in.”

She stepped aside to let him enter, untying her apron and removing it over her head. When that was done, she called again for her sister, turning her head to look up the stairs. “Dee Dee! Your tutor’s here!”

Slow, heavy footsteps descended the staircase. Dee Dee stopped on the second-to-last step, her bright red lipstick unable to distract from the pained expression on her face.

“Hi,” she said wearily. “So, what’s your name?”

“Bryan Beneventi. And, I get it,” he added, holding up his left hand as he kept his right curled around the strap of his knapsack. “Studying isn’t fun, right? But I wouldn’t be here if you were passing…” He paused. “Uh, Spanish?” he guessed.

“History!” Dee Dee exclaimed indignantly, her eyes widening, and Finola herself felt mild surprise. He didn’t even know what subject he was tutoring?

“Right! Right, history,” Bryan agreed. “The details with my tutoring schedule kind of get muddled up sometimes.”

“Isn’t that what history’s all about? Details?”

Finola shot her sister a glare for her rudeness, but Bryan seemed unperturbed.

“Good point.” He checked his watch. “Well, since I put us more than thirty minutes behind, I guess we’d better get started.” He glanced between the two siblings, waiting for direction on where the tutoring session would take place.

“You can use the dining room,” Finola said, pointing to her left in its direction.

He flashed her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.” He gestured for Dee Dee to lead the way, making the younger girl’s face scrunch up with a mixture of delight and confusion, but she showed Bryan to the dining room with a bounce in her step that made Finola smile to herself.

She went back to the kitchen and made a plate of spaghetti for their father to eat whenever he got home, then fixed two more for herself and Dee Dee. After a few minutes’ hesitation, she decided to fix one more plate for Bryan. He was being paid to tutor for one hour, and she knew from experience that dealing with Dee Dee could drain the energy out of you. By the time they finished, she guessed he would be wanting to eat dinner.

About twenty minutes into the hour, she crept over to the wall adjoining the dining room to discreetly eavesdrop on how things were going.

“Okay,” she heard Bryan say. “You’ve got to explain what the French and Indian War is. So, what can you tell me about it?”

“I dunno,” Dee Dee replied. “The French and the Native Americans fought each other?”

“See, you might think that because of the name, but it’s more complicated than that. They were fighting the British.”

“I’m British too, you know.”

“Does that make you more interested in the subject?”

“Not really. It was all so long ago.”

“But it’s something you need to know for now. To pass your next test.”

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I am. This is usually my dinner time, but, you know, since you showed up so late…why were you late, anyway?”

“If you’d like, I can stay an hour and a half next week to make up for it.”

“Ugh, and make me live through even more of this torture? No thank you.”

“You can eat while I tutor you. How’s that sound?”

Instead of answering, Dee Dee called out, “Hey, Fi?”

Finola winced and had to tiptoe away a few feet and then walk back to pretend like she hadn’t been listening just outside the dining room. “Did you call me?” she asked, smiling what she hoped was an innocent smile.

“Can we eat dinner in here? I’m starving, but Bryan won’t let me take a break.”

A stricken look crossed the young man’s face. “That’s not what I said,” he blurted out.

She shot him a sympathetic look before nodding at Dee Dee. “I’ll get the food.” She spun on her heel, only to pause and turn back to face Bryan again. “I…made an extra plate. In case you got hungry. It’s just spaghetti, so…”

He blinked up at her and then got up from his seat, dropping a pencil he had been holding onto the table. “Thanks,” he replied. “Let me help you. It’s easier to carry three plates between two people.”

“Between three people,” Dee Dee piped up. “I can get my own plate.”

“Yes, you can,” Finola agreed through gritted teeth. She walked back to the kitchen and let Dee Dee and Bryan trail after her,

She handed each of them a plate of spaghetti and a fork, and then picked up her own dish and a small pile of napkins. They all trooped back to the dining room and Finola took a seat at the end of the table, allowing her to sit between her sister and Bryan.

“So,” Bryan began. “The war…when did it take place?”

Dee Dee scowled. She looked to Finola for help, but the older girl only shrugged.

“I had to learn this on my own,” she pointed out.

Dee Dee skimmed her history textbook, which lay open on the table in front of her. She gave an answer, to which Bryan nodded.

“Correct.” He ate another forkful of spaghetti. Finola was slightly alarmed to see that he had cleared almost half his plate in just a few minutes.

“Drinks!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I mean, would you like something to drink?”

“We only have water, orange juice, or coffee,” Dee Dee added. “Our dad doesn’t believe in soda. Don’t get him started on it “

“Water would be great. Thank you,” Bryan said. He stood from his seat when Finola rose, and she froze in place, wondering if he was going to follow her to the kitchen again before recognizing the chivalrous gesture for what it was. She had seen men standing up when women left a table on TV and in movies but it had never happened to her in real life before.

“I’ll--I’ll be right back,” she stammered out.

An hour later, dinner and Dee Dee’s tutoring session were over, and Finola was seeing Bryan out.

“Thanks for the food,” he said, hefting his pack over his shoulder again. “I’ll be back next week.” This was to Dee Dee, who stood hidden behind the doorframe, but her disappointed groan made her presence known.

“Yes, we’ll see you next week. At 5.” Finola hoped her voice sounded casual. She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

“It was nice to meet you, Finola.” As he spoke, he walked down the steps of their front porch, pulling something out of his knapsack. It was hard and black and had a curved surface to it—a motorcycle helmet. He carried it under his arm until he reached a slim motorbike parked a few houses away, then slid the helmet on over his head and straddled the bike. He gunned the engine, pulled a U-turn on the quiet street, and sped away.

It was nice to meet you, Finola… What did that mean? She shook her head. Just that. Nothing more.

“He has a motorcycle?” Dee Dee’s voice had risen an octave with excitement. “That’s so cool!”

Her older sister privately agreed.

#my fic #debris nbc #dailyau #brinola #dee dee jones #high school au i guess #bryan x finola #Fi and Dee and Bry #this is all i have so far #but i have a couple ideas for more scenes if i can write them

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wannabesewcrafty · 2 years

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Crushing It (Part 2)

Fandom: Debris (TV)

Notes: A continuation of an AU fic where Bryan is tutoring Dee Dee and befriending Finola. Part 2 of ? (I have a very rough idea of where this might go.) Inspired by a prompt from @dailyau

Bryan continued to join them for dinner every week. It didn’t exactly happen by Finola’s design, but she usually cooked after she and Dee Dee got home from school, and although he never asked for food, Bryan never refused when it was offered to him either.

In between his weekly visits, the sisters had commented on his diet. “I seriously think he can eat anything!” Dee Dee cried. “I gave him that leftover beef that’s always too spicy, and he ate it!”

“Yes, his whole face turned pink,” Finola recalled with a soft laugh.

She sighed to herself as her thoughts turned again to Dee Dee’s tutor. She was mooning over a boy who hadn’t shown any interest in her beyond friendship. She tried to treat him like she did her classmates at school, but then he would smile at something she’d said—and that she had intended to be witty, thank God—and she’d feel herself blush. Some mornings, when Dee Dee was in the shower, Finola would even sneak into her room and try on some new lipsticks.

One evening, as the weather warmed with the arrival of late spring, Finola walked with Bryan out of the house and all the way to his motorcycle, which he had parked at the end of the opposite street this time. They had been involved in a conversation about sunglasses. Finola had been looking for a new pair, and it turned out they each had strong opinions about the accessory.

“You can’t just buy any old pair,” Bryan was insisting. “You need something that will make people say ‘Wow! Where did you get those?’”

“I don’t want people to say that! I just want sunglasses that work well and look good on my face!”

“You’re going to completely skip over the coolness factor of sunglasses?”

Before she could reply, they came to a stop by his bike.

“To be continued, I guess,” he muttered, seeing her press her lips together.

“Dee Dee said she did a lot better on her last quiz. You’re really helping her.”

“Thanks. I think it’s all the food. Helps me concentrate.” He said the last part with a grin.

“Her finals will be coming up soon.” Finola forced herself to sound nonchalant. Her gaze was lowered, not wanting to give herself away by looking at Bryan, but then he asked a question that made her head snap back up.

“You want to hop on?”

“Wh—what?”

He jerked his head in the direction of his motorcycle. “You were looking at my bike.”

“Oh, uh, well—“

“Go on,” he encouraged.

Not knowing what else to say, Finola slowly walked around to one side of the bike and straddled the seat, placing her hands on the handlebars. She gave a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You think that’s fun? Trust me, you’ve barely scratched the surface. I’ll bring an extra helmet next time. If you want to learn how to ride.”

“I don’t even have a driver’s permit.”

“Well, I could do the steering, and you’d be a passenger. You’re tall, so maybe you should sit behind me…”

“Um, I’ll think about it.” Finola jumped up quickly as the approaching headlights of a passing car briefly bathed them in light.

“Okay,” Bryan said softly, his eyes on her face. “See you next week, then.”

“Yes,” she breathed, glad that this wouldn’t be the last time she’d see him. “Next week.”

He nodded and took Finola’s place on the motorcycle, then slid the helmet on over his head. He gave a wave and started up the bike, while Finola stood a safe distance away on the curb.

Only when his bike was out of sight did she feel she could breathe easy again. She sorely wished her mother was alive so she could ask her for some advice, but she knew what her father would say.

“Be yourself. It’s like science. False readings are a waste of time.” George could always relate something back to science, it seemed, but science wasn’t going to help her figure out what to do about her hopeless crush.

With a frustrated groan, Finola threw her hands into the air and crossed the street to start the walk back to her house.

#my fic #debris nbc #bryan x finola #brinola #Dee Dee Jones #Fi and Dee and Bry #i’m still here #dailyau #tutor au #part 2 #high school au i guess

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