Never Too Early

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

OPEN ♥

There was so much that Kellan loved about the winter holidays. She loved how her family always had a turkey and a ham and lasagna for Christmas because everyone always wanted something different. She loved how it was the only time of year she could always find peppermint-flavored hot chocolate. What she loved most about the holidays, however, was buying gifts for other people. There was just something so satisfying about finding the perfect present for someone you knew.

Kellan knew that there was over a month until Christmas, but she wanted to knock out as much shopping as she could as early as possible. The quicker you got your shopping done, the less stress you would have closer to Christmas. Plus, there was always that one person you forgot to buy for until Christmas Eve, so starting early helped eliminate that dilemma.

She had only been in town for and hour, but Kellan already had three shopping bags filled to the top with gifts. Every time she would leave a store, she would pull a piece of paper and a pen out of the pocket of her jacket and cross off names on her list. She had just stepped out of a bookstore (her mother had the world’s largest collection of cookbooks) and was about to move on to buy for the next person on her list when, Kellan being Kellan, she tripped on the uneven pavement. Luckily she didn’t fall, but she did drop her shopping bags. At least nothing flew out of them.

With a sign, Kellan bent down to pick up the dropped bags, hoping that the ship in a bottle she had bought for her father earlier hadn’t cracked.

[Duke Bell.]

Duke was carrying his guitar case. It was oldish, worn, a little frayed around the edges and the leather was faded in some parts. He held it in his hand like it was an extension of himself, weightless and effortless; obviously it was full of drugs. He looked tired, his eyes red, but sort of pleasant; gave him the appearance like he just snorted something. Duke's inner cynicism wasn't actually directed at Kellan, and it definitely wasn't any type of admission, but the blonde on the sidewalk had that not-so-subtle way of reminding him of how much more virtuous she was than he. It kind of irritated him, her smiles and good grades, when everybody else was content in thinking he was a crack addict wasting all their tax money by spending too many nights in jail. It got tiring, fast.

"Klutzy Kellan?" his voice rang, drawling and liquid in the air. There was a faint grin on his face, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Why I never," he said, stopping before her to look down at the small mess a little incredulously; he honestly hadn't known that she was prone to accidents.

He shook his head after a quiet and quick moment, recognizing that the correct thing to do was to help her. He let his guitar case sit on the pavement, his hand trailing to keep a light hold on it as he bent somewhat, reaching for a bag that was just out of her reach.
"Don't you have a boyfriend for this?" he asked her, crouched and almost at eye level.

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

Kellan hadn’t been even remotely aware that someone had been watching her. And of course when someone was, it had to be when she found herself unable to walk ten feet without tripping over absolutely nothing. She heard someone speak her name, and her head snapped up to see who it was. She was expecting to see one of her friends or even one of Reese’s friends because they had always called her ‘Clumsy Kellan’ or ‘Klutzy Kellan’ while she was growing up just to torture her. Instead, she was met with the surprise of a stranger. And he knew her name.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a complete stranger. Kellan had seen the boy around the Academy before, but that was it. Was she supposed to know his name as well? She couldn’t remember a single time that she had ever spoken to him, so how did he know who she was?

“He’s not here right now,” she answered, desperately trying to remember if she was supposed to know this boy or not. He looked like the kind of guy who would take off down the street with her shopping bag, and all the money she had just spent would be wasted. He looked like that kind of guy, but Kellan was the last person to pass judgment on anyone she didn’t know, so she had no suspicion that he might actually try to steal her stuff. He just looked the part...

She swooped up the other two bags and stood up, knowing that she was going to look and feel like an idiot if she had known this sketchy-looking guy all along.

[Duke Bell.]

Oh yeah, her wide-eyed, not-exactly-curious, more than likely suspicious glances definitely didn't go beyond his notice. Her princess persona wasn't disappointing him, but being the idiot that he was, he felt kind of saddened by it. If he was being honest, he'd have to say that he had actually expected more of her; nothing really specific, maybe not even significant, just more. And it sucked a lot when Duke realized that she wasn't any different from what he already knew of her.

"I can see that," he told her, tone light, almost indiscernible because he was naturally, well, not really, but he did speak softly most of the time; something acquired from his smoking, even if it was literally impossible for him to develop any sickness from it.

He stood with her, although at a slower pace than her, and promptly handed her the one bag in his grasp, wanting to be rid of it and all the assumptions of him that came with it. He was just a chain smoking, guitar playing, foul mouthed boy; if he actually really cared, he would have been offended by any thoughts thinking otherwise. As it was, he must have cared a little bit, a tiny, tiny bit that he wasn't all aware of, that wanted to maybe prove that he was a nice boy, really.
"Would you be needing anymore help?" he offered, quite nicely if he had any say at all. Duke appeared mild, leaning against his case with an arm resting on top of it. His panama hat made him look a little ridiculous, but it was his hat for the day and was an entirely Duke thing. He looked a bit willing though, despite his yellow hat and general appearance, as if he hadn't anything better to do.

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

It would have killed Kellan to know what he was thinking. Despite what he may have though, she didn’t think the worst of him. If anyone could testify that appearances could be deceiving, it was Kellan. A lot of people thought that she was just some ditzy blonde who was scared of getting dirt under her nails and had cutouts of all her favorite designer clothes plastered all over her walls, but they didn’t have to spend more than ten minutes with her to realize just how wrong they were.

“I think I’ve got them all now,” Kellan answered, taking the last bag from him. “But thanks. You should be glad I didn’t send all this stuff flying through the air. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.”

She hated to admit it, but she was still drawing a blank. She wished so badly that this guy wouldn’t have called her by her name. She wouldn’t have had such a reason to feel guilty. She could play coy and beat around the bush until he dropped some kind on how he knew her. She could try to keep figuring it out and be subtle.

But subtlety had never been one of Kellan’s strong points.

“I don’t know your name,” she admitted flat out. He knew hers; it was only fair that he hold her his.

[Duke Bell.]

Ok, so he found her honesty amusing. Her admission didn't hold a single note of apology, and despite everything, his mouth began quirking a small smile. Mary, as he'd taken to calling her in secret and in public, was unapologetic, blunt and self-depreciating; it was strangely fitting, and more human than the pedestal people put her on.

"It's ok," he told her, shrugging, the slight grin he wore from before remaining, only it appeared more genuine. There wasn't any hesitation, but his quiet air went unchanged; wasn't he going to tell her his name?

"It would have been a sight," he agreed, but really unable to picture her flailing everywhere.
"I've never imagined you being klutzy though," he added, his ever vague tone making his comment sound painfully careless, like he was following a script without much of a choice. Duke looked away then, taken by something further down the road, and he appeared tired from the side, or maybe just amused.

There was a beat, and he finally returned his gaze to her.
"Duke Bell," he revealed at last, expression wry, "I doubt you know me."

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

--this sounded a lot better in my head...


“Well, Duke Bell, now you know that I have two left feet,” she shrugged. He obviously had some kind of preconceived notion about her. What, did he think that she was some kind of graceful ballerina or something? Because that was pretty hilarious.

Kellan still wasn’t used to the whole popularity game. Until last year, she was pretty sure that no one had even known her name. She basically only hung out with her best friend (who she hadn’t spoken to in months, surprisingly), and sometimes she’d tag along with her brother and his friends before he graduated if he’d let her, but that was it. Then Jennet’s parents pulled her out of school and Kellan had two choices: mope around or make new friends. Those new friends just so happened to be some of the Academy’s finest.

He was right – she didn’t know him. But this Duke guy intrigued her. She had seen him around once or twice, but she knew nothing about him. She was really curious about what he had to say about her.

“So if you didn’t think I was clumsy, then what did you think?” she wondered.

[Duke Bell.]

"Now you're just fishing," he teased, and sadly, there was a part of him that did think so. His grin was then reminiscent of a sneer, but he refrained from appearing too nasty. He was most likely wrong about his perception of her, and it wouldn't be the first time either; Duke tended to have a very jaded outlook on life, while other people generally didn't.

He tugged his guitar case closer and shifted it so that he could rest his arm on it. Tilted, he looked at her quite closely, trying to determine the extent of the truth she wanted to hear. Of everyone he knew, or knew of, save Wingrose House, she was the ultimate embodiment of being virginal. Could he tell her that he wasn't sure whether he envied it of her, or if he was very twistedly fascinated by it? She was a curious case either way, notorious too, despite her nature, since she was often talked about throughout the Academy. He couldn't possibly tell her that it irked him a furious bunch, how she was talked about in his house, or that his very original take on her was that she was an ice-cold, stand-offish, arrogant princess. Yeah, he figured rightly that that wouldn't go down well.

"I couldn't begin to tell you," he answered, the hazel in his expression sparkling like he turned on a switch, which he had; the quirk he wore not nearly as real as the grin from before. The fact of the matter, if he should even be inclined to acknowledge, was that on some very, very, very deep and hidden level, Duke, troubled child, was quite jealous of Kellan Callahan.
"Maybe not as clumsy," he offered after in his slow drawl, as if he was still mulling over his words even as he spoke them, "definitely not nearly as entertaining."

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

Kellan rolled her eyes. Fishing for what, compliments? Because that certainly wasn’t the case. This was the girl would could handle being told that she looked like a slobbering cow better than if someone were to tell her that she looked stunning. She didn’t know how to take compliments, and they never failed to make her feel extremely awkward.

‘I couldn't begin to tell you.’ What was that supposed to mean? Did he think that he knew her well enough to have a whole mental file cabinet on her? Because that was creepy, and Kellan, like most girls, didn’t like creepy. Whatever it was, he obviously wasn’t going to tell her, and that frustrated her to no end.

“Whatever,” she shrugged. “Just know that you can’t really know what someone’s like until you actually get to know them first hand.”

She gave him a look that could only be taken for ‘I bet there’s a lot more to me than you think’, challenging even, before her eyes slid to his guitar case.

“Do you play?” she asked, though she mentally gave herself a kick as soon as she did. “That was a stupid question,” she admitted. “Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be carrying around a guitar case. Either that or you just have really weird taste in luggage.”

[Duke Bell.]

She was adorable, slipping in a rebuke and telling him off like that, for being so presumptuous; Duke wanted to keep her, really. On a more serious note, he wondered if it was her roundabout way of telling him he needed to stop being an ass, or annoying at least, and just get his head in the game, get to know her and then make an honest judgment, if he was in any position to judge at all, which given her tone, he wasn't. Her guitar question was cute, and that more than most of what she had said made him let up on the exterior he wore.

"It's a childhood fascination; I love leather in strange shapes, what can I say?"
His question was rhetorical, even borderline attempting at a joke, though he would never admit it. He sounded entirely serious though, but the hardness in his eyes glazed over, and the previous mask he'd used fell away. This girl was nothing but honest, and he couldn't help but feel somewhat shamed enough to be the same toward her.

"It wasn't stupid," he corrected, very strangely nice about it, "I could just be weird." He was, but he didn't think it was necessary to confirm it.
"But really, yes, I do play, in a band, in fact. You wouldn't have heard of us though."

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

“Hmm, what kind of band?” Kellan asked. The blonde set her shopping bags carefully down on the ground, not wanting to break any of the fragile merchandise inside. They were getting heavy, and she didn’t know how long she would be standing here talking to the intriguing Duke Bell.

He was probably right about one thing about her – she probably wouldn’t know his band even if they played a whole set right in front of her. Kellan’s music collection had hardly anything recorded in the last fifteen years, aside from a few covers of older songs that were alright, but would never measure up to the originals.

“No, wait. Let me guess. You’re one of those ‘the world hates me, parents hate me, the love of my life hates me, everyone hates me so I cry black tears every night because the world sucks and would be better off without me’ kind of musicians, aren’t you?” she accused, though the smirk that had developed on her face made it clear that she didn’t really think that about him. She was just emphasizing her point from moments ago.

“Assumptions are an awful thing, aren’t they?” she shrugged.

[Duke Bell.]

Duke could never be embarrassed about his music. The music he wrote, composed, played, hummed and the ones he often thought about whenever he didn't have a pencil, were all beautiful. He was only at his happiest either when he was writing, or when he was playing; his music was perhaps the one thing in all life that he could honestly say he cared about, other than his family of course, but even then he was selective. Unfortunately, his band didn't feel the same way as he did. Never mind how he founded the whole gig, never mind how he was the only one with a shred of talent; if he could, he would have played all the instruments and sung too. As it was, he had tracked half their EP by himself because his bassist and drummer proved to be complete retards. His band, the one that Kellan had never heard of before, and he knew this to be fact because they currently had no name, instead of being respectable, self-composing, original musicians, were stuck performing cover songs because the others had yet to get their act together. This was with Duke being the one who had visited a rehab clinic over the summer; go figure.

"We're like, Elvis Presley meets The Who meets The Beatles; cooler than The Killers but not really Oasis yet," he replied to her initial question, expression only slightly bemused by her tactics; ok, so he supposed this proved she was a little funny.

"They are," he agreed, after a moment of consideration, and it was something very close to admiration that he felt, "but they're common too," he added, shameless in his apathy.
"I wouldn't think to assume anything about you, Kellan," he said to her, almost in reassurance though he wasn't quite sure himself, "I can call you that, right?"
Aside from the baiting and the avoiding he was doing, he was being quite honest. The first minute was all it took to teach him to never assume anything about this girl; it wasn't like he'd been ignorant before either. He had what he thought of her, but what he did know wasn't much, and wasn't all true.
"You know, you should just call me an idiot and be done with it. It's definitely more effective, I promise."

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

--worst post ever

“Are we talking about happy, “I’ve Just Seen a Face?” Beatles, or depressing “Yesterday” Beatles?” Kellan asked, quirking an eyebrow. That was one more thing that Duke probably would have never guessed about Kellan; the girl idolized John, Paul, Ringo, and George. If Duke’s band sounded anything like he said it did, she’d have to check them out some time.

“That’s my name. What else would you call me?” she said to him when as asked. It was an odd question to her. He hardly knew her, so it’s not like he could have given her some kind of nickname already, and it wasn’t like ‘Kellan’ was reserved just for her closest friends. He was an interesting character, this Duke Bell.

She tried not to look as confused as she actually was when Duke told her that she should call him an idiot. Did she miss something? She gave the boy a quizzical glance. Kellan looked childish with her head slightly cocked to the side.

“Why would I call you an idiot?” she finally asked after trying to figure out why he might have said that. She couldn’t come up with anything, and like Duke had already discovered, Kellan wasn’t one to be evasive and act like she knew what he was talking about. Sometimes she was too honest for her own good.

[Duke Bell.]

It was really hard to explain without sounding like her previous assumption of him. He didn't want to hate her, honest, except for the fact that he'd begun to get used to being isolated. That had turned into pushing people away, and it didn't help any that they were all so annoying and just plain disappointing. He didn't want to hate her, not at all, but he needed to; not because he was clinging onto the image of her he kept secret, but because he didn't know what else to do. Actually liking someone enough to not be an ass for longer than ten minutes, was a great feat, and so far only Kellan inspired that in him.

He was impressed, and he made it pretty obvious by the look on his face. He didn't know many women under the age of fifty who liked The Beatles, aside from his mother but she hardly counted.
"A bit of both," he answered, a reluctant grin tugging, "we're an intelligent rock band, you know."
Well, he was at least; he certainly wouldn't vouch for the others.

"Miss. Callahan comes to mind," he told her in all seriousness; a strange boy, he really would have called her that.
"Weren't you meaning to prove a point before?" he asked her, a little confused himself now. He had been a bit abrupt, presumptuous still, in her meaning; maybe he had been wrong and she hadn't been trying to teach him anything. Except she had, something valuable even.

[Kellan Grace Callahan]

“Miss Callahan?” Kellan just about laughed, though not to be mocking or spiteful, just amused. “That makes me sound old. Please, I’m not your teacher. Trust me, ‘Kellan’ works just fine.”

Kellan, though she was only seventeen, had a plan to hold on to her youth as long as she could. She hated thinking about life after graduation and finding a real job and having her own family and, dare the thought even cross her mind, getting old.

“Maybe I was trying to prove a point. Or maybe I’m just really opinionated, or I was being argumentative,” she proposed, shrugging lazily. “No matter what, though, you should probably ignore most of whatever comes out of my mouth. Sometimes I ramble, and half of it doesn’t make sense anyway.”

Okay, so that was only partly true. Kellan had gotten a lot better with her useless chatter. Sure, she could still talk someone’s ear off at times, but most of the people she spoke to now no longer tuned her out after listening to her go on and on.

“Well Duke Bell, I’m going back to school. I can only take so much shopping before I never want to step inside a store again. You can come with if you want, or you can take your weird suitcase,” she gestured to his guitar case, the most subtle of smirks tugging at her lips. “and do whatever it is you were doing before I decided to throw my bags onto the sidewalk. Either is fine with me.”