Leaning against the fender of the Impala, Brian thought back to childhood and tried to pinpoint who his first crush had been. When it came to him, he smiled. “Jane Fonda,” he admitted, thinking back to that poster of Barbarella that hung next to his closet for years. He took a hit and blew the smoke into the space behind him. “What about you?” he asked Whistler. The man was older than him by maybe two decades, he figured, judging by the slight graying of hair around his ears.

‘Lauren Bacall’, he thought. ‘I’m calling it.’