Sixth in a series of stories leading up to my Camp Nano Project – this one, from Raven’s point of view, features Jason.

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It was a warm day, the sort of sandwiched-between-two-rainy-days sort of miracle you get sometimes in early Rochester June, and I didn’t have anything I had to be doing at the moment, or anywhere I really absolutely wanted to be, so I wandered down into the quad with my laptop.

Jason was there, with Craig and Glory Harrington, Jason on the guitar, Craig on the fiddle, and Glory on drums and vocals. I’m not sure what they were singing – an Irish folk tune I wasn’t familiar with – but the whole quad was full of it.

It wasn’t just the song, either. The music was nice, if I closed my eyes and forced away all the other influences and just listened. Glory had a pretty voice, and Craig could play the fiddle to shame the devil /and/ all of Georgia. But Jason wasn’t playing the guitar so much as he was playing the people.

I let it wash over me. It wasn’t anything malicious – everything’s okay and hey, it’s not that big a deal and calm down, you’ll work it out. Not bad music for finals time. And all around them, people were sprawled out, reading their homework and just chilling.

Stuff like that, it can go bad fast if anyone notices. But a couple people playing on a college quad – that was easy enough to hide. And Jason was my friend, so I sprawled out somewhere near Glory’s feet and started singing my own counterpoint to her lovely melody.

I don’t know if Jason knew what I was doing. I don’t know if he even knew what he was doing. Didn’t matter; the point was more that nobody else figure it out than that he do.

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