The Flock Gets An iPod
As I bit into a granola bar in front of the fire, Gazzy spoke up.
"We need an iPod."
I turned to him. "A what?" Of course I knew what it was, but surely I had heard wrong.
"You know…one of those music thingies. The little shiny black one." He explained.
"We don't have time for one, or the money," I countered. "and anyways, why would we need one?"
"We could tuck it in our pockets and listen to it while we fly," he suggested. "and they're on sale in some shop downtown that we flew over."
"Gazzy, you can't have an iPod. That's that," I said as I bit off another chunk of granola. "and besides, it would get damaged while we were fighting or something."
Nudge broke in. "I think it's a great idea!" she said.
Fang raised his hand. "I'm in." he said.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Fine, but you claim full responsibility, and you're paying for the music."
Fang's eyes met mine. "I can do that."
I sighed, wondering why I had ever agreed to this.
The next day Fang flew down to the shop with Angel, saying she was his little sister. I expressly told her not to before we left, but apparently she worked her little mind-tricks, devil that she is, because the two of them came back twenty bucks lighter and a shiny metal case heavier.
That night Fang fired up our super-awesome computer lab always-internet laptop, nicknamed "OMG SHINY!" by Nudge. Then we logged onto iTunes, and Fang hooked up the laptop. We decided the youngers could choose first, since they went to bed earlier. Angel stared at the list.
"I want Shakira," she said.
"No. Absolutely not. Where did you even hear her name?" I asked, becoming more worried about the girl by the minute.
"I heard some guy thinking about her. Her voice was pretty."
"No," I said once more. "No way. Pick again, Kiddo."
She thought once more. "Well…how about the Barbie Girl song?" she asked.
"No. You will not be the next Hannah Montana. Try again."
"Well…I heard Miranda Cosgrove playing in the mall. She was cool."
I thought, chewing on a nail. "Sure, why not."
Fang added her album onto Angel's Playlist. Then Gazzy stepped up.
"I want Weird Al!" he said, bouncing up and down. Fang added two of his albums. Next it was Nudge's turn.
"How about Taylor Swift?" she asked, wrapping her hair around her finger. I was about to decline when I realized that she was perfect for Nudge. I nodded, and Fang added both her albums. Now it was Iggy's turn. As I tucked Angel in, I heard him excitedly murmuring artist names to Fang.
"I want Shakira, and Katy Perry, and Lady Gaga, Ke$ha…" he trailed off. I sighed. He had better keep the younger kids off of his playlist.
Then Fang chose an album of 3 Days Grace for himself, and he beckoned me over to choose. I shook my head, refusing.
"If you won't choose, then I'll choose for you." He said.
"Go ahead," I replied. "Let's see how well you know me."
Really, I had no clue what music I liked. I didn't really like any. Finally, Fang called me over and offered an earbud. I sat down and took it. He had chosen a mix of Enya and Celine Dion, and at first I couldn't stand it. Then, gradually, I realized what he had done: he had chosen heavy music that sucked you in, consumed you. I smiled at him, and mouthed "Spot on." He grinned back, and, for a second, everything was perfect.