"'Maybe,' Dad said!" Alexis was incredulous. She was outside her house, pacing furiously on the lawn while Isaac, sitting on the front door's stoop, listened patiently. She'd been explaining the same situation over and over for the last five minutes and he hadn't been able to get a word in. Her refrain was that it wasn't good enough.
"It's not good enough!" She shouted again, shaking him by the shoulders, "I need it now! There's no time!"
"W-w-w-well," Isaac said, sounding like a didgeridoo, "Why don't you take mine?"
She stopped shaking him. "You have drums?"
"Yeah."
"Like, a full kit?" She asked in shock. Since when did he have a drumkit? And why hadn't he mentioned this sooner?
"Yeah," he said again, drawling unsteadily. "I wanted to play but then got bored."
"You have no ambition! Wait, so you can play the drums?"
"Used to. I mean, I might be able to hold a beat still, but—"
"You have to teach me! I'll give you all of my Christmas and birthday money!"
"Didn't you already forfeit that to your parents?"
Alexis flopped to her knees in the grass. "You've gotta help me!" She pleaded, grasping his ankles, willing herself to tears.
"Of course I'm gonna help you—as long as you keep groveling like that. My ego's never been so pampered."