Bad Tastes

[holiday_pirner]

When Holly entered Tracks, the record store was mostly empty, save for a few people milling over some new releases. A Cinderella track was playing over the sound system, and strains of glam metal accompanied the brunette as she wandered over to the cassettes.

As she rifled through the Q's, trying to find a Queen album a friend had recommended, a movement in her periphery caught her eye. A boy, maybe in his mid-teens, was grasping a few tapes in his hand and acting twitchy.

Holly tilted her head, watching him closely. He was too busy looking out for store employees to notice her, until she pointedly cleared her throat. "Are you sure those are the ones you really want? I mean, if you're going to opt for the five finger discount, make it worth your while."

The brunette approached him, ignoring his surprised glare. She grabbed one of the tapes and held it up. "This one isn't too bad, but...is that Quarterflash?" Holly shook her head disapprovingly. "I think someone should call your parents just to warn them of their son's budding horrible taste in music."

He pulled away from her, grabbing the cassettes back. "Do you work here?"

Comments

[brian_campo]

Brian had forgotten about the tapes. It looked like one way or the other, merchandise was getting stolen tonight. “Here, I’ll hold ‘em for you,” he said. He wasn’t sure her outfit had pockets. He stuffed them in his pants pocket and climbed the ladder ahead of her. The building was only four stories tall, so it didn’t take much effort to reach the top. He straddled the wall and slung his leg over it. One of his shoes kicked a beer can. He couldn’t remember if it was one of his, or if his assertion that nobody else used the roof was erroneous. In the middle of the roof, there were a couple of plastic crates and metal folding chairs, which seemed to be in the same spot as the last time.

“Got it?” he asked. He didn’t want to be a jerk and imply that Holly couldn’t climb a ladder, but he didn’t want to just walk off and leave her hanging off the side of a building, either.

[holiday_pirner]

She surfaced a few moments after him. "I'm good," she said, grinning. "I have surprisingly good upper arm strength."

Holly looked around the roof, setting her bag down on the roofing tar. "This is cool. Like a little hideaway." The brunette peered over the edge. "That man down there has a little bald spot. I think he's trying to hide it."

Holly turned back to Brian. "So, what are you going to show me? Can you fly?"

[brian_campo]

He snorted. “No, can you?” Brian reacted like it was an absurd question, but maybe it wasn’t and he was about to feel really stupid.

He didn’t go to the roof with the intention of showing Holly anything. He just wanted the freedom to talk about it without being furtive. But now he wondered how she knew about vampires. Was she like Valerie? Was the comment about her arm strength a hint?

He needed to slow down.

He sat on the wall.

“It’s not like that. I’m not a superhero. There’s just this thing I do.”

[holiday_pirner]

Holly grabbed one of the folding chairs and sat opposite him. "Okay," she said, calmly. She crossed her legs and pulled out a cigarette. There were traffic noises below, people's voices amplified by the acoustics of brick.

The brunette lit her cigarette, leaning back against the metal seat.

"What can you do, Brian?"

[brian_campo]

He hunched his shoulders and sat with his fingers loosely locked. He studied an unfinished tattoo on his forearm. The outline had been drawn but he stopped short of getting it shaded.

“I can move things with my brain. At least I think it’s my brain.”

‘What else would it be, idiot? It’s not the power of the holy spirit.’

He looked at Holly. There was something about her that made it easy to talk. She was chill. Even her voice was nonchalant and sort of raspy, like his throat felt after he smoked.

“Still think we’ve got so much in common?” he asked. He looked miserable.

[holiday_pirner]

"Maybe we do," she said, evenly. Taking a drag, she watched smoke descend above the roof, disappearing over the edge. "We both find places to go when everything gets too -- sharp, right?" Holly gestured to the space.

"And sometimes it's not a space, so much as a thing. A tool." The brunette flicked the red glowing tip of her cigarette.

"I'm guessing you mean without physically touching them. Because when you say with your brain, well, everyone moves things with their brain." Holly smiled at him.

[brian_campo]

He smiled in spite of himself. “I guess you got a point there.” He slowly rubbed his hands together and looked around the roof. The street noises – honking horns, people shouting, laughter – all sounded as if they floated to their ears from a tunnel. The brunette had pinned it down, that need to go away when he felt too much. Music, pills, a rooftop, even trying to interact with the world through freaky mind powers instead of his physical body.

Brian’s fingers worked at the clasp of his cheap wristwatch. He set it down between his shoes and stared at it for a minute. Then he put his palm in the air. After wiggling on its own, the watch skidded across the tarred surface and landed at her toes.

“You’re perceptive,” he said. “Maybe that’s your thing.”

[holiday_pirner]

Holly leaned over, carefully plucking the wristwatch from the ground. Holding it up and examining it, she smiled again. "You are definitely the most interesting shop clerk I've ever met."

The brunette studied Brian for a moment. He kind of had the whole brooding look down pat. If ever there were a likely candidate for a secret telekinetic, it was him.

"Why did you look so sad when you admitted it?" To Holly, it seemed an ability rife with possibilities.

[brian_campo]

Brian didn’t answer at first. It wasn’t as if keeping secrets and being introverted were new to him. If anybody had a decent chance of hiding an ability of that magnitude from family and friends, it was Brian. Say it was a holiday and he spent all day moping in the other room or didn’t speak for two hours; that was normal.

‘He’s contemplating the meaning of life,’ his dad used to say, popping leftovers in his mouth.
‘You mean worrying about things that don’t concern him,’ his mom answered over a sink of dirty dishes.

“I might hurt someone.” Brian spread his palms. “It’s not like I know what I’m doing. The only reason I know what it’s called is because I read Carrie.” He huffed a little laugh. "What am I supposed to say... can you help me? I contracted telekinesis."

Whoa. The word. He became uncomfortable.

[holiday_pirner]

"So you practice," she said, raising her voice over a car alarm that had just gone off. Holly shrugged again. "A person using a gun is more likely to hurt or kill someone if he doesn't know what the hell he's doing with it."

The brunette thought of the Slayer who had killed her father. That kind of raw energy and strength was overwhelming.

"Did you just wake up one day like this? When did you find out about it?"

[brian_campo]

Practice. Stop waiting for it to go away and practice. Brian studied her shoelaces and allowed himself to think about that. Why was it such a hard thing to do?

Ultimately, he came to one conclusion: it meant admitting he had a gift, which made him squirm. He pictured his dad catching him doing it, how pumped he’d be, how he’d tell him that when the world gave you something special, you didn’t squander it. ‘My son,’ he would say, grinning like a doofus, and sock him in the shoulder.

“I got pissed and knocked a car out of my way,” he said. “Most of the time, that’s what happens. I get…” He waved at the side of his head. “I dunno, kinda tweaked and knock something over, break glass, that sort of thing. Seems like the more I do it on purpose, the less it happens on accident.

“How do you know about this stuff?” he asked, redirecting the conversation to Holly.

[holiday_pirner]

"What, about telekinesis and everything? I don't, not really." Holly smudged some ash away with the toe of her sneaker. There were tiny, sparkling dots of broken glass embedded in the tar.

"But I got my degree in psychology," the brunette admitted. "I had these big ideas of being a therapist. All my friends know how funny this is because I am completely fucked up." She gave Brian a knowing smile.

"Then my dad was murdered, and I was angry at myself because all this stuff I didn't know came out." She scraped at some nail polish. "So I got a job at this shop that sold Vivienne Westwood knock-offs instead."

[brian_campo]

“I’m sorry about your dad,” he said. “Mine's dead, too. Heart failure. Whatever he was doing in the sixties fucked up his organs. But I don’t have anybody to be angry at, it just happened. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

He scratched his mouth with a knuckle.

“Did they ever catch the guy?”

[holiday_pirner]

She turned her attention from her nail polish to the plastic wrapping on her cigarettes. "A girl, actually," Holly confided.

She looked up, tossing her hair casually. "A vampire Slayer gone 'round the bend. They're young women imbued with the strength to fight vampires, demons, and whatever else there is," Holly explained.

"They sound a little scary to me," the brunette admitted quietly.