Slammin' Screen Doors {Tyler}

[PICKLE ABREY]

It was going to be a trade-off of epic proportions. Spend several days in Minnesota, then fly out to New Orleans--then back to New York. All within the span of a short time before they had to be back to school. Sounded just about right. Pickle was excited for the idea of going home, seeing her parents. But most of all--food that didn't suck! She entertained herself by thoughts of Tyler in the French Quarter. He wasn't a city boy, and the Quarter was more like an old, old city. Lots of people--she wondered how he would fair. But first--Minnesota.

Her excitement would spike, then dull down into a nervous roar. She would be meeting his family, his parents and his sisters. Maybe his cousins, as well. And though she was used to the more rural side of Louisiana, often taking trips with her father to the bayou--it was a different kind of country. Coming off the plane, the air was already different. Clearer, somehow. And into Tyler's truck which had been dropped off, they went. The hum of his truck was comforting; different from the tiny little cars she was used to in New York.

Pickle had pulled her knees up to her chest, and rolled her window down to feel the warm air on her face. But mostly, to drink in the sight of a place she had never been. Comparing it to places she had been, looking for familiarity and change. She had spoken very little since getting in the truck--her stomach doing nervous rollercoasters. Her mind was making a big deal out of it--but it was no more than bringing a friend home to meet the family. Right? Just because she was a girl, didn't make things too different--right? Pickle closed her eyes behind her sunglasses for a moment, trying to settle her mind. It would be just fine. Tyler had become one of her best friends. This was normal, it was fine.

Finally, Pickle turned her head to look sideways at Tyler with a grin. "You excited to be back home?" She asked, her blonde hair curling into her face from the wind through the window. So far, Pickle had decided that she liked Minnesota. It was free. Not quite so cluttered like the places she was used to. Grasping her glasses, she pushed them to the top of her head, fixing Tyler with her large eyes, before crossing them playfully.

--

Outfit

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler was beyond stoked. The plane ride hadn't been short enough, and when he had finally gotten off, he had to restrain from actually hugging his truck. He'd helped Pickle pack her things securely into the back, followed by his belongings, and they took off out of Minneapolis. As far as cities went, Tyler was alright with St. Paul and Minneapolis, only because of growing up in the area. But his excitement became very noticeable. His foot ached for the gas, but he'd have to wait until they were farther out. And he didn't want to scare Pickle.

With the windows rolled down, Tyler took deep breaths of fresh air. The rather small city became towns and the towns became farms and soon they were driving down highway 7, free from any sight other than the occasional farm surrounded by fields. Damn, he had missed the fields. In the fall, they would be towering, 7-foot corn stalks. Some would be brown with soy. Fat, multicolored cows grazed in pens, some of them with a clumsy calf tripping over it's own feet. Old barns dwarfed the farm houses. The paint was chipped and fading, and the wood was straining to support the weight of the roof. This was almost every farm they passed. And Tyler had missed it.

He finally turned onto a dirt road and gravel flew as they took off. He passed a little lake, as there were lakes wherever you turned in Minnesota, and grinned at the sound of waves and rustling leaves that could barely be heard over the truck engine. He glanced over at Pickle, who had been fairly quiet.

He decided that he liked Pickle in Minnesota. The gusts of air from the open window blew her blonde hair around her face prettily. She had pulled her legs up onto her seat and looked pretty comfortable there. His mind played tricks on him and imagined her sitting in his truck often, driving to the lake, driving in the rain, parked somewhere dark and clear, where they could see the stars.. Tyler was brought back to earth by Pickle's question. Good thing too, because he didn't know what to make of all those ideas. Although thinking of it brought warm fuzzies to his chest, the two of them were only friends. And it was perfectly normal to bring a friend home on break. Wasn't it?

Tyler threw Pickle a big smile, "I am so excited, I don't even have the words to describe how excited I am."

They finally came to a little town, Winsted, and Tyler drove through slowly, wanting to avoid the humiliation of getting pulled over by Officer Justin with Pickle in the truck. They took a right, drove for a minute, then turned left. At the very end of that road, the pavement stopped and the gravel started. Tyler's house was the last house on the pavement. It was nice to look out your window and see nothing but trees and prairie. He parked in the driveway of the grey split level and hopped out, starting to unload everything. Suddenly there was a muffled squeal and a distant bang of a door and the front door flew open, and a little girl with pigtails threw herself at Tyler. He pretended that the force of her hug had knocked him down and he tipped over into the grass, careful to hold Brynn so she wouldn't get hurt.

"TYLER!"

He laughed at his little sister but suddenly there was something wet licking at his face. He sat up, wiping his cheek and grinned at the lab puppy that was still trying to bathe him with her tongue.

"Hey Lucy! Dang, last time I saw you, you were the size of a soda can."

He scratched the puppy's ears and got up, Brynn still clinging to his torso. Tyler stopped in front of Pickle and poked Brynn. At the sight of Pickle, Brynn buried her face in her brother's neck, but peeked at her curiously.

"This is my sister Brynn. Brynn, this is my friend Pickle," It was so odd of her to be shy, but Tyler let it go when Brynn just nodded. "Sorry, she's not normally shy-"

Brynn came out of hiding to stare at Pickle critically.

"Pickle's a funny name. You're pretty. Are you Tyler's girlfriend?"

Tyler's cheeks burned, "Brynn! That's not polite."

Outfit

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle laughed when Tyler answered. Pickle did a good job in feeding off of other people’s energy. His excitement almost rolled off of Tyler in waves, which in turn made Pickle’s heart beat a little faster. Suddenly, the towns seemed to change. Farms, and lots of them. Curiously, she leaned towards the window, watching the cows and barns go by. The small little town that Tyler crawled through, and then more dirt. She had expected more driving, but when the truck rolled to a stop—she uncurled her long legs and opened the door to slide out.

Pickle didn’t manage to get her mouth open to compliment the home before there was a bang of the door, and a childlike squeal. One of his sister—and by the looks of it, it was Brynn. The youngest. Pickle’s cheeks flushed—honestly, she had never been around children. Ever. She was an only child, and her parents had homeschooled her. The flush in her cheeks turned to burning levels once Brynn asked that question. Oh, that question. “T-thanks, you’re cute too! But uh—no. I’m just Tyler’s friend.” Pickle grinned, and tucked her fingers into her back pockets.

Brynn was a cutie—but if this is how the rest of the day would go—repeats of that question, Pickle might jump the nearest cow out of state. “How old are you, Brynn?” Pickle asked after a moment, managing to get the words flowing once more. Man that had been an awkward moment. While she waited for the little girl’s response, she plucked the hair tie from around her wrist, and swept her hair into a loose bun, pulling the t hick blonde waves off of her neck. With the sun beating down—it was pretty hot. Better than the cold up in New York, though.

“Tyler’s talked a lot about you guys. He’s missed ya’ll.” Pickle added, before sliding her eyes back to Tyler. This was how she pictured him. With the open field behind him, the sun shining down. Not surrounded by towering blocks of concrete and steel. She could imagine him on horses, rushing through the long tufts of grass. This was home for Tyler; why he ever thought to come to New York was beyond her. Pickle glanced up at the house, and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had met Brynn, the youngest—which wasn’t that difficult. But his parents and the other sister was inside—maybe others as well. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, before she had to remind herself that she was a friend. One coming home for a visit—it wasn’t like she had to impress anyone.

--

Outfit
I looked up Winsted and then I found this!ITS TYLERS TRUUUUCK.

[TYLER CARTER]

Pickle answered Brynn's question politely, but Tyler couldn't help the swoop of disappointment in his stomach at her answer. Which was ridiculous. Because, obviously, they were not together, and.. And they were only friends. So.. Why should he be disappointed? No, he wasn't.

Brynn beamed at Pickle, "I'm six! Are you ten? You're bigger than me, but you're smaller than Tyler."

Tyler rolled his eyes and set her back on her feet.

"No, you goofball. She's as old as me."

Before Brynn could attack Pickle with more questions, the door opened again and a crowd of people stepped out of the house. Tyler's palm met his forehead in exasperation. He wasn't home from a five year long voyage at sea! He was home on break from school! His mom went right over to Pickle, a kind smile on her face as she tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and shook Pickle's hand.

"Hi! It's so nice to finally meet you. Tyler's been looking forward to this for a long time," Tyler turned to pick up some of the bags in order to hide the pink tint to his face, "I'm his mom, Gina. And this is my husband Caleb," she told her, gesturing to a brown haired man with a beard who was busy helping the boys grab the rest of their stuff.

This was weird. He hadn't ever brought someone home before, much less a girl, and he felt awkward. But he shouldn't feel that way, since she was just a friend. Nevertheless, he hadn't expected for to be there as soon as he got back. That wasn't fair to Pickle, who was sure to be overwhelmed by all these new people. Couldn't they just back off for a moment?

He glanced at her, a wry smile on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't know they were calling in the cavalry."

Tyler's cousins Gavin and Alyssa were there. Alyssa was holding her new baby son and Tyler took a deep breath, trying to not give his opinion about the sixteen year old. Along with Gavin came Tyler's old friends, Jesse and Travis. Ellie was standing near the door with Alyssa, her arms crossed and a sour look on her face.

"Ellie, come say hello." When the girl didn't obey, Gina turned to Pickle, apologetic. "I'm sorry. She gets like this sometimes."

Tyler looked over at his sister curiously and Ellie glared back. He'd known she was irritated with him for not writing back, but was she really so angry? Brows furrowed, he started towards her, only to have her disappear into the house again. He shrugged and turned back, only to be surrounded by his friends. The grins on their faces made him nervous.

"Who's this, Tyler? You didn't tell us nothin' about bringin' a girl home."


Olley! I can totally walk there from my house! And why is Tyler's truck parked behind the bar? -.x

The Cavalry

[PICKLE ABREY]

"Aren't most people smaller than Tyler?" Pickle countered, looking up at her friend. Tyler was a big boy, tall with muscles beneath his clothes. Though Pickle wasn't terribly short, her waifty figure looked tiny, and nearly frail next to his. She only grinned when Tyler answered her question--and her attention was drawn to the door opening again. Oh...well.

Now--Pickle was no stranger to crowds. The streets of the French Quarter were almost always crowded, and the times she snuck down Burbon street--it was ten times worse. The nights that her parents and the neighbors shared dinners were never small in numbers either. But for some reason, the tiny parade that came out of Tyler's house make her heart pound and her blood rush into her ears. Pickle's eyes turned to the little girl on the porch who hung back next to another, before her attention went back to Gina. "No, it's fine Mrs. Carter. It's nice to meet you, also." Pickle didn't entirely understand, but she was definitely in no place to complain about it. Children were weird--they'd come about in their own time.

However the look Ellie shot Tyler spoke a thousand words, and those large eyes peered up at Tyler curiously. Her face relaxed though when the girl ran back inside, stopping his movement. Ouch. Before Pickle could open her mouth, again were more words. Words that made color burn in her cheeks, and her long fingers rested on her hips. "Hey now. I'm not just any girl--I'm a southern one." One hand moved from her thin hips to point at the one that had spoken--no names to match faces to these ones yet, but Pickle had this under control. She could do with strangers, as long as she had Tyler at her side. "So watch it, buddy." The chorus of southern accents that flooded her ears made her feel at home; even if hers was a little older. A little more ancient in it's dip and curves. The Louisiana drawl was only made thicker by the familiar accents; the need to dwindle it down was no longer there--left behind in New York.

Her hand dropped back to her side as an ease settled into her visibly. It was common for Pickle to seem stiff, awkward and uncomfortable at first--and them visibly limpen and relax once she was comfortable. "My name's--" Her voice caught in her throat for a minute. Michelle just didn't feel right, it never had. But Pickle--Pickle always earned a few laughs, a few giggles. The idea of being made fun of in front of all these people burned her cheeks. Boys could be mean, especially in numbers. Never Tyler--but these two. She didn't know them. "Pickle." She finally managed to say, her chin raising slightly--almost daring.

The true Pickle seemed to be shining through. One that felt at home away from the tall concrete buildings. The brave girl who hauled catfish into her father's boat and cleaned them. The one who knew her own city mapped out in her head. The country brought out Pickle: Original Recipie, and this sent a thrill of comfort and excitement down her spine.

--

Outfit

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler's face seemed to be turning all sorts of red and pink today. As his parents brought everything inside, he glowered at Gavin, who was the one who had spoken, just as Pickle called him out.

With one hand on her hip and one pointed towards his cousin, she looked more confident and sassy than Tyler had ever thought possible. He smirked a little at Gavin who looked a bit surprised.

"A southern girl, huh? We don't get lots of girls like you up here. Ty must have taken a special liking to you," said the darker haired boy. His voice was more clean cut, without the drawn out country-boy twang and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

Tyler sighed and turned to Pickle.

"This here is my friend Jesse," he told her, indicating the dark haired boy, then he pointed out the slimmer one with wild hair, "And this is Travis."

He went over to Gavin and playfully knocked his hat right off of his head, waiting til his cousin leaned down to retrieve it to grab on to his shoulders and hold him in a headlock.

"And you've just met my cousin Gavin. Don't listen to a word he says. He's brain-dead."

Gaving struggled out of Tyler's grasp, laughing.

"At least I didn't take off to New York. The city-slickers didn't rub off on ya, did they?"

Pickle introduced herself and the boys disguised their surprise and amusement badly. Travis snickered. Jesse's lip curled in a way that suggested he was sneering on the inside, but he quickly returned to his rather stoic appearance. Gavin's grin was wide as he remarked.

"Pickle? Really? Like.. the food? Do you go by any vegetable, or just Pickle? Can I call you Carrot or Cucumber? Or maybe Lettuce?"

Tyler sent his cousin an icy stare and Gavin's mouth shut tight.

"Knock it off, Gavin."

"Aw, I was just playin'! Don't be so serious, Ty. Look, we planned a get together at my place tonight. I mean, I didn't know Eggplant was coming instead of Silas, but-"

Tyler raised his arm and Gavin cowered a little.

"Jeez, it's a joke, lighten up! Anyway, y'all should come," Gavin glanced at Pickle, "Ever been to a barn party?"

"'Course she hasn't! She's from the deep south. She's probably never done the whole barn thing," Travis interjected.

Jesse's mouth turned up in a smirk, and his voice took on a rather suggestive tone, "Maybe Tyler will show Squash the hayloft.."

Tyler's cheeks burned fiercely. He had just about had enough of this and he shoved Jesse, not too hard, but enough to show he wasn't playing around. He glared at his three friends who always enjoyed annoying him. Only Gavin seemed a bit repentant.

"Why don't you guys go. I'll let you know if we're coming later."

"Aw, Ty, don't be like that-"

"Get outta here, off my property, all of you."

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle raised her chin proud. Yes—Tyler had taken a special liking to her. And she to him—that’s why they were friends. Another smile ghosted over Pickle’s lips as Tyler introduced his friends, “Nice to meet ya’ll.” Her arms crossed in front of her chest, relaxed and easy. Even as a flurry of laughter bubbled from her lips when Tyler hooked Gavin into a headlock. Her smile faded for just a moment—she should have introduced herself as Michelle. But at the same time, though it would spare her from teasing, she didn’t want the fake premise of her name to overshadow who she was. This was a place that she could be herself—all stilettos and pumps remained in New York. Only scrunchies were brought to fix her hair, and makeup was at the bare minimum. All the clothes she brought consisted of jeans, shorts, and loose, comfortable tops, suitable for the Minnesota and New Orleans heat.

Though, at first the names hurt. She had heard the Cucumber one before, and been likened to other vegetables. Simply explaining that they were her favorite food didn’t seem to quell the teasing. It was when Gavin cowered from Tyler that she really realized what was happening. They weren’t teasing her, not entirely. It seemed like they were teasing Tyler. Again, she didn’t want to flash the fact that she was from New Orleans in their faces. New Orleans was the party city of the capital. Funerals, dinner, weekends—it was one big easy party. Always looking for an excuse to laugh, and drink, and dance to good music. Waving that in their face would be far too New Yorker—instead. She’d just show them.

The tone Jesse took burned her cheeks. She could only imagine the implied intent of the hayloft. It seemed like it was impossible for a guy and a girl to be friends without being teased. And unfortunately---that sucked. Pickle stepped up next to Tyler as he shooed the boys from the property and placed her hand on the back of his shoulder. “They’re a lively bunch.” She laughed, and gave his shoulder a pat before taking a few steps towards the house. A question did ring on her mind. Party city capital New Orleans was—she could safely say that she didn’t know what a barn party was. She blinked a few times and turned her head awkwardly to Tyler, “What…exactly is a barn party?” Her head tilted down slightly, before lifting her eyes towards him.

She would experience everything that Tyler offered—that’s what the world was about. Trying new things. But, she could safely say getting their party on surrounded by horses, and chickens, and cows seemed dangerous at best.

--

Outfit

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler felt Pickle's hand on his back and he felt less tense. His friends dispersed, never doubting Tyler's ability to force them off the property if need be.

At her question, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Well, the old style of barn really isn't used for much except storing farm equipment now. Sometimes Gavin's parents let him take out all that and they clean it up nice and people come over. There's usually food and dancing. Some people drink too, but Gavin's parents keep a close eye, so they don't drive home. And their place is off a lake too. So it's kind of a nice place to hang out. If you want to go, we sure could. As long as you remember to ignore my friends. They're just a bunch of redneck idiots."

He threw her a little grin to show her he was kidding and he led her inside. He showed her the split-level, bringing her upstairs to see the kitchen and living room. His parents and Brynn's rooms were upstairs, as well as a bathroom. Then they went down the steps and he showed her the family room, where Ellie's room was and the other bathroom. Then he opened the door to his room. He could tell that his mom had done some preparation, because usually his room wasn't so fresh looking. It was never dirty, but it looked lived in. His mom had made the bed nicely, and Tyler chuckled when he realized that Silas' old TV was still here from the days where they would play COD and Left 4 Dead until sunup.

Suddenly, he was quiet, feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. A girl had never been in his room before, and now here she was, possibly one of the prettiest girls in the world and she was going to spend the next few days sleeping in his bed. The thought made Tyler blush for what seemed like the billionth time today and he clapped, rubbing his hands together awkwardly.

"So yeah. That's the house. And um.. You'll be here in my room. I'll be in the living room, on the couch. And if you ever need anything, just ask. Anyone will be happy to help."

He gave Pickle a little smile and glanced across the hall, where the door of Ellie's room was shut tightly. His shoulders slumped a little, but he didn't say anything. When Ellie wanted to talk, she'd know where to find him.

---

Tyler wasn't really a party kind of guy. But he could hardly say no to one of Gavin's parties. His relatives lived in a farmhouse, two towns away. Deep in the countryside, it was really a getaway for Tyler during the summers.

He drove his truck down the long gravel driveway, Pickle next to him in the front seat. He finally parked in the grass behind the house, where the bed of the truck faced the small lake to the right of the house. The sun was starting to go down and from the music in the barn, Tyler could tell the party was just getting started. He wanted to reach over and take Pickle by the hand as they walked, but his hand stayed at his side.

They approached the barn, where strings of lights had been hung around the doors and in the nearby trees. Inside the brightly lit barn, his friends and a couple of other cousins were dancing and nothing but country music was allowed in here.

He looked down at Pickle, a small smile on his face. He was unsure of how she would take this.

"If at any point you want to leave, just say so, okay?"

Tyler's Room

Barn Party (don't forget to listen to the music!)

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle had listened curiously to Tyler explaining the nature of the barn party, trying to paint the image in her head. It was difficult, to say the least...but it didn't seem too terrible. A nice barn, a few drinks, a pretty lake in the evening. It sounded like a good plan. Plus--she'd feel less horrible about dragging Tyler down Burbon Street if she could place the barn party on a meter. Perhaps her own city wouldn't be such a shock to his system if he were used to it.

The tour of his house was interesting, and it made her skin prickle with heat. It was...spacious, to say the least. The dorm back at Baum was a suite, but she had it all to herself. She had her own kitchen, and her own room--and an empty, unused room for the roommate that would never come. Even then, it was larger than the shotgun house that her parents lived in. She was suddenly embarassed by her own home, and was sick with dread. If this spacious home was what Tyler was used to, how could she even introduce him to the cramped house that barely fit her and her parents?

She never voiced this dread, and even returned a smile with a quiet thank you.

------------------------------------------------

Pickle hadn't been entirely sure what to wear to the party. She had never been the kind of girl who wore jeans--prefering to stick to shorts, and skirts. Usually dresses--so that's what she ended up deciding on. A cap-sleeved, square-necked dress that fell just at her knees and moved when she walked. It had been her mother's dress once upon a time, and the soft pastels and embroidery made her feel safe and comfortable.

She felt somewhat out of place with her wedge sandals, and was pretty sure that there might come a point in the night that she would kick the offensive things off. They were no problem to walk in, not after Christian had her walking in spiked stillettos; but the uneven ground of the area was proving difficult, even just walking to Tyler's truck.

Pickle braced her hands in front of her hips, her own skinny fingers laced together--presumably to keep her from grasping onto Tyler. How would that look? Yikes. Her long legs kept stride with him as they approached the barn; her large eyes taking everything in. This was definitely no Burbon Street party--but there was something so genuine about it. The lights, the dancing, and the energetic beats of the raw country music. Immediately she grinned, before turning her face back up to Tyler. "Same to you. Don't feel like you have to stay on my account."

She unlaced her fingers to pull her long hair over her shoulder, before clutching her hands again. She liked things like this, however she tended to be more of a wallflower. Watching from the distance, and rarely ever participating. Her legs felt almost stuck to the ground of the barn, following each one of Tyler's steps. Despite how her face softened and relaxed at the sight of the party--her body remained stiff and awkward.

--

Pretty Dress for the Occasion!

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler stared around at the familiar faces, his face breaking into a relaxed smile. Pickle's body language said she was uncomfortable, but she tended to just look that way. Tyler spotted another friend of his and he reached over and touched the middle of Pickle's back.

"I'm gonna go talk to Nathan for a minute. I'll be right back."

Tyler went to chat and in his absence, Gavin came to Pickle's side. His smile was apologetic.

"I hope you know I didn't mean nothin' by it earlier. I didn't hurt your feelings did I? I'm real sorry if I did."

Gavin grinned down at her.

"Why ain't you dancin', little lady? Come on, you can't stand here all night!"

When he met a little resistance, he took her hands and tugged her gently into the center of the floor, spinning her and dancing lightly.

Travis and a few other boys stepped in to swing her around as well, smiling and being much nicer than they had earlier in the day. A few chatted with her, asking a couple of questions and trying to make her feel relaxed and welcome.

Soon, she was spun into the arms of a slightly younger looking brown haired boy with shining brown eyes. He beamed at her and spun her quickly, before slowing down a bit to catch their breaths.

"Hey! My name's Adler. You're Michelle, right? Or do you still go by Pickle?" He looked at her curiously. "Maybe you know my brother, Silas? He goes to school with you guys, right?" He grimaced, "Hope you haven't had problems with him. He can be a jackass."

Tyler came over to Pickle and Adler and grinned.

"Having fun? How's it goin', Adler? Mind if I cut in?"

Adler shook his head, a little smile on his face.

"No problem, man. Nice to meet you, Pickle. Thanks for the dance."

More Friends
The Dances

[PICKLE ABREY]

Her back tingled from the barest touch, as though his fingers had touched her skin. Setting the flesh alight with just that touch. She was still contemplating it as she nodded to Tyler slowly, and even when Gavin approached her, her large eyes looked a little lost--before she seemed to come back down to reality. "Trust me, it's nothin' but a thing." She had heard much word, had things much meaner said to her. Pickle was quick to forgive most people--but she was suddenly regretting that. "O-oh no, I don't..." She tried to wave her hand gently, but that proved to be a mistake.

Awkwardly she followed him to the dance floor. Granted--again she had lied. Dancing was something that she enjoyed--never had any formal training. But her long limbs were hard to resist when it came to parties and dancing. There was a strange grace that erupted in her when she finally would give herself over to the music. Her skirt swung about her knees, a grin breaking out on her face, finally.

She found herself somewhat dizzy, the hands changing as she was passed around. At one point, she didn't just allow herself to be spun and twisted--he feet took on a beat to the music. Throwing her whole body into the dance, no longer just being a pretty doll to be passed around. Maybe that's what caused the hands to change even more--some faces were familiar from earlier on the day. Pickle's shell had finally been broken, and who would have guessed--the new girl could be the life of a party.

The hands that caught her last were smaller, younger. They caught her by surprise, but that didn't stop her as her skirt lifted just a little as she spun at his hands, before grinning at him when they slowed down. "I prefer Pickle, honestly." She responded. Even though the dance had slowed, the music was pumping through her veins, her long hair swaying against her back as she moved to a slower beat, able to talk to Adler better when she wasn't being flung across the dance floor. Her smile faded somewhat. Oh yeah. Silas. "I don't even know you yet, and I'm gonna safely say you're the better brother." A polite way of agreeing with Adler. Her shoulders shrugged. Before she could elaborate, a familiar shape came over.

Pickle's smile turned into one that was lips closed, like she was fighting herself not to grin when he walked over. She dropped her eyes from Tyler to Adler. "It was nice to meet you too. And any time." Finally the grin spread on her face as she raised her eyebrow up towards Tyler. "Everything good?"

--

Pretty Dress for the Occasion!

[TYLER CARTER]

Adler glanced down at Pickle and saw the smile threatening to form and grinned, stepping aside. Tyler smiled at Adler and patted his shoulder in a friendly way as he passed.

"Yeah, everything is great! Are you havin' fun?"

He sincerely hoped she was. But seeing her dance with everyone had been refreshing. Tyler enjoyed seeing her loosen up, laughing and beaming with his friends. This night was turning out to be pretty fantastic, in his opinion.

The next song slowed and Tyler took Pickle's hands and put one on his shoulder. He rested his left hand in the center of her back, looking down to grin shyly at her. Things were pretty comfortable with Pickle. At least, more so that they normally were with other girls. And despite the nervousness that plagued him, he was in his element right now. The comforts of home brought out his natural self, and right now, he wasn't so scared of holding Pickle close.

"How do you like your first barn party? It probably can't live up to the parties in New Orleans, but it's not too shabby."

Tyler couldn't help but be briefly mesmerized by the reflection of the fairy lights dancing in Pickle's blue eyes.

His voice was lower as he smiled softly and said, without blushing for once, "I forgot to tell you before. You look real pretty tonight."

To be perfectly honest, she was pretty all the time. But right now, twirling under the lights and crunching the straw underfoot, Tyler's eyes weren't the only ones locked on Pickle. Tyler's friends, whether they were dancing with their own partners or sitting aside, had knowing smiles on their faces.

The song came to a close and another started, a bit quicker this time. Before Tyler could even ask if Pickle wanted to continue or take a breather, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Hello Tyler."

He knew that it was Jenny Martin. The girl he had awkwardly pined for before leaving for Baum. She had rejected him, and though he was pretty over it, it still stung a bit. Turning slowly, he took a deep breath, a little smile on his face. His hand found Pickle's involuntarily.

"Uh. Hey, Jenny. How've you been?"

"I've been alright. We've missed you over here. How's New York?" Jenny's dark eyes shifted to Pickle, who she scanned before looking back at Tyler.

"Oh, you know. Fast-paced, but I don't see much off the campus," He shrugged, then waved his free hand at Pickle, "This here's my friend Pickle. She's from New Orleans. Pickle, this is Jenny. We used to go to school together."

Jenny gave Pickle a tight smile, her eyes finding her and Tyler's locked fingers.

"Nice to meet you. Pickle? That's a strange name. But I guess it is New Orleans. So you're staying with the Carter's for a vacation, huh? Isn't Tyler just the sweetest? This kid was like my best friend until he up and left. Didn't even call or write!" She pouted playfully at Tyler.

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, his brows furrowed. This girl had told him that he should probably let her have some space, so that he could get over her easier. Why would he have written her?

"Think I could cut in and get the next dance, Pickle?" Tyler heard an odd inflection in Jenny's voice and he squeezed Pickle's hand gently.

"Actually, I was going to dance with her again. Maybe another time," Tyler said, trying to be polite but there was little more firmness to his voice. He lead Pickle into another dance, then looked down at her.

He grimaced, "Sorry.."

The cute song they danced to

[PICKLE ABREY]

"I am. You've got some good people out here." Pickle responded, glancing towards the DJ when the song slowed--ready to meander her way off the dance floor. Until Tyler's arms caught her, and guided one hand to his shoulder. For once, she was glad she wasn't short. Her long legs held her up closer to Tyler, so it wasn't too much of a bend for her to glance upwards at his face. "Naww, the parties in New Orleans are a little more boozy, unless you're with friends. This is perfectly my speed." She grinned back up at him, trying to quell the excited feeling in her stomach.

It was easy with Tyler, comfortable. His arms felt safe, and they felt like home. Despite the fun she had being a little spotlight of attention--this was what she had been waiting for for most of the night. Color rushed her cheeks again, and she dipped her head down. "Thank you." She mumbled shyly, and it took her a moment before she was able to lift her head upwards again. Pickle had words to say that were caught in her throat, and when the song ended and the next came up--the new energy of the song finally started to push those words out of her.

"Ty--" Until she was cut off by another girl's voice. Pickle's expression dimmed slightly seeing the girl. Pretty, with hair the color that Pickle's would have been had she not been maintaining the blonde. Dark eyes that matched the size of her face, and didn't look perpetually surprised as her own did. Immediately, Pickle felt somewhat inferior, even though Tyler's hand found hers. Her lips thinned when those dark eyes scanned over her, and both of her slender hands grasped onto the one of Tyler's, like he was an anchor. She took an awkward step, somewhat shielded behind him as they spoke. She couldn't look Jenny in the eye, and she just quietly nodded her head. "Yeah, really sweet." She murmured, though somehow she was certain Jenny hadn't actually wanted a reply.

But the words hit her. Tyler had never mentioned the pretty girl back home. He should have--if they were as close as Jenny was saying. Her brows had knitted together, feeling like Jenny had just called her home strange. Just for the simple fact her nick-name was odd. A slight temper flared through her veins, but the hand in hers managed to keep her rooted. Calm. Until Jenny's voice was directed at her again.

"O-oh, ye--" Once again, she was cut off. This time by a hand squeeze, and by Tyler. Pickle scuttled behind Tyler as he lead her away from Jenny. Pickle's head turned slightly, as though she were going to look back at Jenny--but decided against it. Fearing that nothing in the girl's face would be friendly. Pickle followed Tyler in the dance, though she wasn't throwing herself into it like she had been previously.

"She's really pretty." Pickle murmured absently, unable to look Tyler in the face as well. Her large eyes seeming to look over his shoulder, or not at him at all. "How come you never mentioned her?" Pickle tried to keep the tone curious, innocent. But there was a slight bite, a slight edge to her voice. Good natured, sweet little Pickle tended to have a few jealousy and insecurity issues.

--

Pretty Dress for the Occasion!

[TYLER CARTER]

This dance felt significantly different from the last. The silence was uncomfortable now, their postures both a little stiff.

Pickle commented on Jenny's appearance and Tyler shrugged, not really confirming or disagreeing with her observation. The fact that Jenny was pretty didn't do anything to change his opinion of her.

Tyler frowned at Pickle, not angry but bewildered.

"Because she doesn't matter."

He had spoken a little loudly and Jenny's friend Sam, who was dancing nearby, scowled at him. Sighing, Tyler took Pickle's hand and lead her outside. The sun had gone down and the stars were bright in the sky. He went over to his truck and unlatched the tailgate. Tyler lifted Pickle easily by the waist and sat her on it before jumping up himself.

The lake was a smooth, dark blue mirror stretching out in front of them. Occasionally a fish would break the surface and ripples would fan out and disappear. Taking a deep breath, Tyler stared out at the water.

"Jenny was my friend. We weren't as close as she'd like to tell you. I was pretty crazy for her for most of my sophomore and junior years. I actually did her homework a couple of times." He scoffed, remembering his foolishness as he had carried her books and followed like a lost puppy.

"But she wasn't a real friend. At the end of junior year, I told her about how I felt. You know what she told me?" Tyler looked over at Pickle's brilliantly pale face in the moonlight with a kinda wry smile.

"She said that she had never even thought of me that way, and that we shouldn't hang out anymore, because I obviously couldn't control myself. She said I'd have to stay away for a while, so I could get over her, because she'd never be into me that way."

Shrugging, he looked back out to the water.

"It was for the best, actually, because the week before I had gotten my acceptance to Baum and I went right to New York. I made better friends."

Carefully, Tyler's hand brushed Pickle's.

"I'm sorry that she wasn't very nice to you. Seems like she's pretty jealous of you, actually."

Tyler bit his lip, pondering that. Could she see how much he was drawn to Pickle? Probably.

Sighing, Tyler leaned back until he was laying on the truck bed, watching the stars, waiting anxiously for Pickle to say something.

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle didn't respond for a moment, her lips turned down still in its little frown. Still hanging onto his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world, she followed him. For a moment, she thought they were about to drive home, but instead his hands went around her waist--and though it was for a split second it felt intimate. Her fingers grasped his wrists, until she was seated on the tailgate. That had been too short. She wanted those hands around her thin waist again, hanging o---no.

Focus.

She listened to Tyler explain, and pressed her lips in a thin line again. This sounded familiar. It sounded like her and RJ, in all honestly. Had RJ ever asked Pickle for something, she would have jumped to get it immediately. Doing whatever her wanted. It made a little more sense now. Pickle glanced at him, raising her brows in curiousity as he asked. She didn't want to speak, she didn't want to inturrupt.

"She kind of sounds like a bitch." Pickle didn't curse very often, so the word coming from her mouth was shocking. Honestly, someone using Tyler like that. If her rear wasn't firmly planted on the truck, she'd have stormed back into the barn and given Jenny a piece of her mind. Luckily, Pickle didn't go asking for fights. "I'm not sure why. Unless you've told her how much of a master chef I am." Watching him lean back, Pickle followed suit. Her arms draped across her stomach, staring up at the stars as well.

"She had all that time to care about you, to want to be around you. To dance with you." She turned her head towards Tyler, her brows furrowing slightly. "And she didn't bother. She only came over because someone else had your attention." Her lips pushed to the side as she looked back up at the sky, and shrugged. "Girls like her are a dime a dozen. There's several at Baum, too." Pickle said softly, and shrugged again.

"I'm sorry..." She said, refusing to look at Tyler again, keeping her large eyes locked on the stars overhead. "I...it wasn't really any of my business, but...I'm sorry, for reacting the way I did. And...thank you for sharing that with me." Finally, she looked back at Tyler, with an apologetic smile.

--

Pretty Dress for the Occasion!