Outcast, chapter 2
"God, for the last time, put down the shirt if you're not gonna fucking buy it!" Those little teeny-boppers had gotten on my nerves for the final time. I was confused as to why the manager didn't just kick them out of the store. They were forever coming over here and taking out clothes they had no intention of buying, and placing them in random spots around the store. What did they care anyway, it's not like they worked here!?!
Immediately the girls stopped giggling and angrily threw the clothes on the floor, scoffing as they went out. I didn't care though. It's not like I was begging for their business anyway.
I might not have looked like the ideal employee right now, but I had good reason. My boss wasn't mad either, because I generally had a good attitude on the days that I worked, and even he could understand a bad day once in a while. It's not like our work-place demanded professional attitudes anyway; it was only a music store.
I usually didn't mind coming to work after school, because there was always a variety of people who came through the door. The SC boys were regulars, they were always trying to promote their next gig over at Gilman. I don't know if they're forming a new band or what, because they (Billie, Mike and Frank) all hang out and practice together, but they rarely play shows together. I was lost in my curiosity and trying to clean up the mess when I heard the door bell clink, and saw Mike walk in. He walked over to where I was picking up the discarded clothes and looked at me.
"Hey," he said, "what are you doing here?" I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
"God, Michael, are you that dense? I kinda work here, you know!" He winced.
"Don't call me Michael. You know I don't like it."
I only scoffed. "That doesn't stop me from calling 'Tre' Frank, does it?" I said, emphasizing 'Tre' with finger quotations.
"No, but you know I was kidding! I knew you were working. I was just trying to make you laugh!" Mike said, sounding a little hurt.
I placed my hands on my hips and heaved a giant sigh. "I'm sorry, it's just that today's not the best day to even pretend to piss me off. I just had to deal with.....never mind. You wouldn't understand."
He was stone-faced as he simply said, "Try me." I actually considered telling him at first, but then I realized who I was talking to. The Sweet Children boys were ironically the most obnoxious 18-year-olds to ever walk the landscape of California. By themselves they were tolerable, but a girl still had to watch her back.
"No seriously, I don't feel like talking about it." I said in a slight uncertain tone and a wave of my hand. We locked gazes as an awkward silence passed.
I cleared my throat. "So what are you here for? Aren't you supposed to be at band practice?" I put the clothes on their respective shelves and walked behind the counter.
Mike smirked as he leaned his elbow on the counter top. "Oooh, someone's paying more attention to us than she's willing to admit!" He said in a sing-song voice. I rolled my eyes and smirked back as he continued.
"No, Billie and Tre told me that they wanted to hold off practice until tonight. They've got "things" to do." He said with finger quotations, and I immediately understood.
"You know, we're talking about making Tre a permanent part of the band. He plays with us all the time now anyway."
I was actually interested. "No kidding. What about John?" John was their official drummer and two years older than the three of them. He hadn't been around lately, as he was taking classes over at the college. Frank was their fill-in drummer.
"Oh, we talked to him and he said whatever's fine with him. He's too busy to mess around with a band right now." I nodded in reply.
"Besides, Tre kicks more ass in our band anyway." He finished with a smile. I had no choice but to agree with him. Frank was an amazing drummer. Really wild, but still pretty awesome.
"Yeah, he is." I smiled back.
"Excuse me miss? Could you tell me where the Frank Sinatra collection is at?" An older man in golf pants approached the side of the counter hesitantly, no doubt because of the incident that had occurred earlier.
"Sure. They're over here." I started to walk around the counter and brushed past Mike with an apologetic look and and 'I'm sorry, I'll see you later," before walking to the rear of the store.
I could have sworn he looked a little put out, but he still smiled, nodded, and left with a simple "Bye then."
***
LATER THAT EVENING
***
Exhaustion flooded my brain, and it seemed as though my feet were moving of their own accord. Although I felt like dropping to the sidewalk at this moment and sleeping, I was still on my guard. Walking six miles back and forth from work to home never scared me much, even though most times I walked at night. I watched the news about people getting hurt walking through these neighborhoods, and it freaked me out a little, but I knew how to defend myself.
I passed through some of the less shiny parts of the neighborhood. Ah, feels like home. I knew I was close from the telltale sounds of band practice. Billie lived about 8 blocks away from me, and there was hardly a time when I didn't hear music blasting from the closed garage. When the three of them were feeling particularly proud and spunky, they would open the garage doors and treat the surrounding six blocks to polished versions of their songs. Sometimes when I had nothing to do and desired peer company, I would venture over to Billie's house and watch them practice. Billie himself was currently giving me freelance guitar lessons.
As I walked directly by his house, I was interested to find a sudden lack of sound. Maybe they're taking a break, I thought, and walked on. The front door opened and the three of them stepped out.
I pretended not to notice until Billie called out, "Hey C-Na!" and beckoned me over. I would have liked to just keep walking, but I decided my body needed to rest.
"Hey guys." I said as I walked over to the old couch sitting in Billie's lawn. It was a pretty big couch, so the three of them made room for me, to where I ended up sitting between Frank and Mike. I slouched further in the couch and laid my head on the back of the couch, only to find Mike's arm there.
"Oh, sorry Mike."
"No problem." he said calmly, and withdrew his arm and placed it on his leg. I took off my black beanie, itched my forehead, and laid my head back again.
"So what's up C?" Billie asked casually.
"Nothing, just got back from work. Killer day today too."
"Yeah, I saw. You seemed like you were pretty tired when I stopped in today." Mike said.
"It's also probably because you walked all the way back from there too. How many miles is that?" Frank asked.
"6. Well, 12 for a round trip."
"Fuck!" Frank said in amazement. "And you didn't call me or one of the guys to pick you up? I could have called my dad and borrowed his car or something!"
"No, it's okay. I need the exercise anyway. I'm out of shape." All three of them quickly turned their scoffs of disagreement into mysterious simultaneous coughing fits. We've had that argument too many times.
"And besides," I continued, "I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself." I leaned forward and irritably played with my butterfly knife. The guys eyed me nervously and I was guessing they were choosing their words carefully, so as not to get me pissed off. Mike was the one who spoke up.
"We never said you couldn't, it's just that we get nervous when you get all stubborn and insist on walking everywhere alone. We've seen the papers. We just don't want you getting hurt." Billie and Frank both nodded.
"Yeah, we care about you C." Billie said. Mike and Frank both nodded, though Mike curiously more stiff. I passed it off as nothing.
"Well, that's sweet guys, really, but you don't need to worry. I've been looking after myself ever since my dad ran out when I was six. It's like the only thing I can control right now. Thank you, though." I stood up slowly and stretched backwards until I heard my back pop.
"Well, I have to get going now. My mom's gonna notice the silence in the house without my music on full-blast."
"Okay," Frank said. "But can we at least walk you back home?"
"Well if you guys don't mind a bit of a workout? It's quite a ways down the street."
"Nah, we don't mind. Besides, no one will mess with us! We're BAAAAD!" Frank said, while thumping his chest in a Tarzan manner. Billie and Mike laughed out loud.
I laughed. "Sure, keep telling yourself that 'Mr. Frank Edwin Wright'......THE THIRD!" Billie and Mike roared with laughter, but Frank grabbed his arm as if he had been hit.
"Hey, that was below the belt!" he whined. I merely shrugged and laughed along with the guys.
One would have thought that Frank would have stayed mad for a while, but it wasn't even a block after we started walking when he was back to his rambunctious self again. He was running circles around me, Mike and Billie, all the while tapping our shoulders and yelling "Duck, duck, GOOSE!"
The laughing and messing around continued for the rest of the walk. When we finally got to the broken cement of my front porch, we shared a group hug (with much kissing on the cheek by Frank), and said our goodbyes.
As they were walking off, I saw Frank jump Spiderman-like onto Mike's back and say "Giddy-up horsey!" before Mike grabbed each of his arms and threw him head-first into the bushes.
"Damn, you're lucky those bushes were soft!" Frank groaned and grabbed his back. Billie and Mike both sniggered and walked on.
I giggled from the porch, but my expression immediately changed once I turned to face the door. With a passive expression, I merely thought, here we go again.
Immediately the girls stopped giggling and angrily threw the clothes on the floor, scoffing as they went out. I didn't care though. It's not like I was begging for their business anyway.
I might not have looked like the ideal employee right now, but I had good reason. My boss wasn't mad either, because I generally had a good attitude on the days that I worked, and even he could understand a bad day once in a while. It's not like our work-place demanded professional attitudes anyway; it was only a music store.
I usually didn't mind coming to work after school, because there was always a variety of people who came through the door. The SC boys were regulars, they were always trying to promote their next gig over at Gilman. I don't know if they're forming a new band or what, because they (Billie, Mike and Frank) all hang out and practice together, but they rarely play shows together. I was lost in my curiosity and trying to clean up the mess when I heard the door bell clink, and saw Mike walk in. He walked over to where I was picking up the discarded clothes and looked at me.
"Hey," he said, "what are you doing here?" I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
"God, Michael, are you that dense? I kinda work here, you know!" He winced.
"Don't call me Michael. You know I don't like it."
I only scoffed. "That doesn't stop me from calling 'Tre' Frank, does it?" I said, emphasizing 'Tre' with finger quotations.
"No, but you know I was kidding! I knew you were working. I was just trying to make you laugh!" Mike said, sounding a little hurt.
I placed my hands on my hips and heaved a giant sigh. "I'm sorry, it's just that today's not the best day to even pretend to piss me off. I just had to deal with.....never mind. You wouldn't understand."
He was stone-faced as he simply said, "Try me." I actually considered telling him at first, but then I realized who I was talking to. The Sweet Children boys were ironically the most obnoxious 18-year-olds to ever walk the landscape of California. By themselves they were tolerable, but a girl still had to watch her back.
"No seriously, I don't feel like talking about it." I said in a slight uncertain tone and a wave of my hand. We locked gazes as an awkward silence passed.
I cleared my throat. "So what are you here for? Aren't you supposed to be at band practice?" I put the clothes on their respective shelves and walked behind the counter.
Mike smirked as he leaned his elbow on the counter top. "Oooh, someone's paying more attention to us than she's willing to admit!" He said in a sing-song voice. I rolled my eyes and smirked back as he continued.
"No, Billie and Tre told me that they wanted to hold off practice until tonight. They've got "things" to do." He said with finger quotations, and I immediately understood.
"You know, we're talking about making Tre a permanent part of the band. He plays with us all the time now anyway."
I was actually interested. "No kidding. What about John?" John was their official drummer and two years older than the three of them. He hadn't been around lately, as he was taking classes over at the college. Frank was their fill-in drummer.
"Oh, we talked to him and he said whatever's fine with him. He's too busy to mess around with a band right now." I nodded in reply.
"Besides, Tre kicks more ass in our band anyway." He finished with a smile. I had no choice but to agree with him. Frank was an amazing drummer. Really wild, but still pretty awesome.
"Yeah, he is." I smiled back.
"Excuse me miss? Could you tell me where the Frank Sinatra collection is at?" An older man in golf pants approached the side of the counter hesitantly, no doubt because of the incident that had occurred earlier.
"Sure. They're over here." I started to walk around the counter and brushed past Mike with an apologetic look and and 'I'm sorry, I'll see you later," before walking to the rear of the store.
I could have sworn he looked a little put out, but he still smiled, nodded, and left with a simple "Bye then."
***
LATER THAT EVENING
***
Exhaustion flooded my brain, and it seemed as though my feet were moving of their own accord. Although I felt like dropping to the sidewalk at this moment and sleeping, I was still on my guard. Walking six miles back and forth from work to home never scared me much, even though most times I walked at night. I watched the news about people getting hurt walking through these neighborhoods, and it freaked me out a little, but I knew how to defend myself.
I passed through some of the less shiny parts of the neighborhood. Ah, feels like home. I knew I was close from the telltale sounds of band practice. Billie lived about 8 blocks away from me, and there was hardly a time when I didn't hear music blasting from the closed garage. When the three of them were feeling particularly proud and spunky, they would open the garage doors and treat the surrounding six blocks to polished versions of their songs. Sometimes when I had nothing to do and desired peer company, I would venture over to Billie's house and watch them practice. Billie himself was currently giving me freelance guitar lessons.
As I walked directly by his house, I was interested to find a sudden lack of sound. Maybe they're taking a break, I thought, and walked on. The front door opened and the three of them stepped out.
I pretended not to notice until Billie called out, "Hey C-Na!" and beckoned me over. I would have liked to just keep walking, but I decided my body needed to rest.
"Hey guys." I said as I walked over to the old couch sitting in Billie's lawn. It was a pretty big couch, so the three of them made room for me, to where I ended up sitting between Frank and Mike. I slouched further in the couch and laid my head on the back of the couch, only to find Mike's arm there.
"Oh, sorry Mike."
"No problem." he said calmly, and withdrew his arm and placed it on his leg. I took off my black beanie, itched my forehead, and laid my head back again.
"So what's up C?" Billie asked casually.
"Nothing, just got back from work. Killer day today too."
"Yeah, I saw. You seemed like you were pretty tired when I stopped in today." Mike said.
"It's also probably because you walked all the way back from there too. How many miles is that?" Frank asked.
"6. Well, 12 for a round trip."
"Fuck!" Frank said in amazement. "And you didn't call me or one of the guys to pick you up? I could have called my dad and borrowed his car or something!"
"No, it's okay. I need the exercise anyway. I'm out of shape." All three of them quickly turned their scoffs of disagreement into mysterious simultaneous coughing fits. We've had that argument too many times.
"And besides," I continued, "I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself." I leaned forward and irritably played with my butterfly knife. The guys eyed me nervously and I was guessing they were choosing their words carefully, so as not to get me pissed off. Mike was the one who spoke up.
"We never said you couldn't, it's just that we get nervous when you get all stubborn and insist on walking everywhere alone. We've seen the papers. We just don't want you getting hurt." Billie and Frank both nodded.
"Yeah, we care about you C." Billie said. Mike and Frank both nodded, though Mike curiously more stiff. I passed it off as nothing.
"Well, that's sweet guys, really, but you don't need to worry. I've been looking after myself ever since my dad ran out when I was six. It's like the only thing I can control right now. Thank you, though." I stood up slowly and stretched backwards until I heard my back pop.
"Well, I have to get going now. My mom's gonna notice the silence in the house without my music on full-blast."
"Okay," Frank said. "But can we at least walk you back home?"
"Well if you guys don't mind a bit of a workout? It's quite a ways down the street."
"Nah, we don't mind. Besides, no one will mess with us! We're BAAAAD!" Frank said, while thumping his chest in a Tarzan manner. Billie and Mike laughed out loud.
I laughed. "Sure, keep telling yourself that 'Mr. Frank Edwin Wright'......THE THIRD!" Billie and Mike roared with laughter, but Frank grabbed his arm as if he had been hit.
"Hey, that was below the belt!" he whined. I merely shrugged and laughed along with the guys.
One would have thought that Frank would have stayed mad for a while, but it wasn't even a block after we started walking when he was back to his rambunctious self again. He was running circles around me, Mike and Billie, all the while tapping our shoulders and yelling "Duck, duck, GOOSE!"
The laughing and messing around continued for the rest of the walk. When we finally got to the broken cement of my front porch, we shared a group hug (with much kissing on the cheek by Frank), and said our goodbyes.
As they were walking off, I saw Frank jump Spiderman-like onto Mike's back and say "Giddy-up horsey!" before Mike grabbed each of his arms and threw him head-first into the bushes.
"Damn, you're lucky those bushes were soft!" Frank groaned and grabbed his back. Billie and Mike both sniggered and walked on.
I giggled from the porch, but my expression immediately changed once I turned to face the door. With a passive expression, I merely thought, here we go again.
