My Mistake, So Predictable

Wednesday: The Guitar Store

“Welcome to the G String,” I say in a monotone voice, dragging my long fingers across my forehead to remove my sweaty bangs. It was an unusually warm day for February and the store was steaming. I was uncomfortably hot in my jean shorts and I regretted the long sleeved shirt I had thrown on earlier that morning. Therefore, I was not in the greatest of moods.

Someone chuckles in reply and then asks, “Electric guitar strings?” I lift my head up just barely enough to see a grey v-neck before I return my eyes to an old issue of AP that I had spread out on the counter. “Over there,” I point to one of the back walls and he thanks me. I hear his and another pair of footsteps head over to where I had indicated, and so I go back to scanning the pages.

“Nice beanie,” A huskier voice comments a second later, and my pages crinkles as a bare arm rests down on the counter. I bat his hand away absentmindedly, I don’t care that it’s there; my biggest pet peeve is when magazines rip and this one was coming dangerously close to becoming recycling material.

“Thanks,” I say, “But do you mind?” I pull the magazine back from the arm and toss it carefully to the floor in the growing pile of reading material. There’s only so much you can read in a guitar store before you go crazy. I should know, I’ve been working here for four years.

He chuckles and removes his arm, using his fingers to comb through the hair that hangs out of his own beanie. “You work here?” He winces as if thinking, “Oh, stupid question.” I mentally agree but grin anyway, him being flustered was kind of adorable.

I squint up at his tall frame from my perch on my chair, leaning my own elbows on the glass counter; shiny from the daily cleaning that I give it. “Nope,” I pop the p for emphasis, “I killed the owner and he’s lying in the back room. I’m just taking over while I decide where to hide the body.”

Again he laughs, and fixes his beanie, tucking some wayward hair under it. “Does that mean I’m a witness to murder?” He jokes, leaning in close to whisper.

“Not if I tell the police that you did it,” I say, pulling an innocent face, “Officer, I don’t know what happened. He knocked me out and then when I woke up my boss was on the floor -dead.” I say the last word in a horrified voice, my hand pressed to my mouth in shock. I try hard not to giggle as his face twists into something that looks like astonishment.

He shakes his head, making his bangs brush across his forehead again, “Nuh uh, you’re not going to throw me under the bus that easily. If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

“I can be quite convincing when I want to be.” I tell him laughing. It's true too. One time I convinced my friend Max that he was part Irish. Granted, he did have one to many drinks in him. However, it didn't stop him from speaking with an accent for a week.

“Well, I don’t look particularly good in orange jump suits,” He winks, and then a loud bang causes us both to jump; quickly scanning the back of the store for the thing that had caused it.

“You break it you buy it,” I call out to the skinny, black haired kid who had asked about the strings. His eyes fly to mine from where he was staring at the cd rack he had tipped over. Then he sends me a sheepish look for a second before he waves happily to the kid I was talking to.

“I found the strings!” He waves the box in the air and jumps onto the back of the muscular guy he was with, who quickly dumps him onto the ground with a laugh.

“Gerr’ off, Jack,” The muscular kid chuckles, pretending to step on the guy he had dropped.
Jack shrieks and slaps the foot away, quickly getting to his feet. He playfully throws a limp punch at the other guy, and runs screaming when he retaliates.

Jack hops across the store, dodging punches until he reaches the counter where I was currently sitting, which he ducks behind. I feel hands on my shoulders and then his chin replaces one of them, his breath tickling my ear.

“You can’t punch a girl, Zack.” Jack says with contempt, and then he sticks out his tongue. Manly. I think and then I tell him so; making the two other boys laugh at his expense.
The guy, who I assume is Zack, laughs at the skinny kid still cowering behind me. “You’re such a baby.” He looks at me, “I am so sorry for his immatureness.”

I wave my hand at his apology, and then suddenly a brilliant idea comes to mind. Without warning the kid, I duck out from under his long, skinny fingers and crawl out under the counter, leaving him unprotected. “He’s all yours, boys.” I smirk, standing back to watch it unfold.

“Traitor!” Jack yells at me, cornered as Zack approaches, playfully punching one fist into the other hand.

I laugh as Zack pulls him into a head lock, his lanky body twisting to try and get out. Jack shrieks like a girl until Zack lets him go after a rough noogie. “No fair,” He pouts, attempting to creatively style his now even more messed up hair.

Jack heads on over to the other kid who is laughing at his embarrassment. “Shut up, Lex.” He says, hitting him over the back of the head. His beanie falls off and Jack swiftly brings back his foot, punting it under the glass counter. “And it’s good!” He shrieks, jumping around the store, and trying to dance with Zack. “The Ravens have won the super bowl!”

“Lex?” I question the boy with a smile, returning to my stool and plopping back down, after rolling my eyes at Jack.

He rolls his own eyes in reply and ducks under the counter, fishing around for his lost beanie. “Alex, actually.” His voice comes out muffled.

“Well Alex, actually; someone is trying to get your attention.” I inform him, and he stops moving with a deep sigh.

“Let me guess, relatively tall, bald, and very handsome?” He questions, still on his hands and knees as he emerges.

“I’m not bald, ass hole.” The guy says and smacks the part of Alex’s butt that still hangs out from under the desk. “But I am very handsome.” He grins at me, flashing a pair of extremely white teeth. “Hello.”

I wave, “Hi,”

“We have to go,” He informs Alex, pulling him out the rest of the way by the band of his boxers. Alex protests but the guy pulls him easily to his feet, his muscles obviously not just for show. “Jack get off the floor, we’re leaving!” The guy shouts, resulting in a middle finger in response from Jack. “Do we hafta, Rian?” He whines, trudging back to the front dejectedly.

Rian rolls his eyes and cuffs Jack on the side of the head. “Matt’s throwing a shit fit on the bus, you guys were only supposed to be like a second.”

“Yeah but then we met-“Jack stares unblinkingly at me, “I don’t know what your name is,” He informs me, scooting his tiny butt onto the counter.

I push him off so he lands on the floor, where he sits pouting up at me. “Hailey,” I tell him, sticking out my tongue playfully.

He gestures to himself, “I’m Jack. That’s Alex, Rian, and Zack. They’re whores.” He informs me, pointing to all of them in turn. “I’m the only one you want to know.” He winks.

In an unspoken agreement they all dog pile onto Jack until he begs for mercy, wriggling and shrieking underneath the other boys weight. They untangle themselves within a few seconds and all call out goodbye as they exit. I wave and grab my magazine again from where I had thrown it earlier, it seemed much less interesting then it had earlier after all of the excitement. When I look up again Alex is still standing there, staring intently at me.

“It was cool meeting you,” He says with a crooked smile.

“You too.” I reply. “The most entertainment I’ve had today was when some punk rock chick wannabe came in here and threatened to kill me after I told her we ran out of black picks.”

Alex flinches, “Be careful.”

I grin, “Thank you for the concern. I’ll be fine, though.” I grab for something behind me and present it to him. “Mace.” I say when he gives me a blank look.

He chuckles when he understands, mussing up his hair with the tips of his long fingers. Jack slams into the door then and causes us both to turn and watch as he makes out with the glass, his teeth bashing against it in loud clanks.

“Sorry for him.” He apologizes, giving Jack the finger. “He doesn’t get out much. The doctors won’t let him.”

Laughing I make a kissy face at Jack causing him to throw some tongue into the mix, “He’s fine.” I shoo Alex away, “But I think you have to go.” I glance out the door past Jack at the rest of his friends. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that that’s Matt, and he looks like he’s having kittens out there.”

Alex follows my gaze and chuckles, “Uh yeah it is, and this was supposed to be a really quick trip.” He shrugs not really caring. “Ah well.”

The boy saunters over to the door and turns one last time to look at me, winking once before waving. He disappears through the door with a jingle of the over head bell and I sigh.

The guitar store is never overly busy but it seemed even emptier without the hyper guys who had just left. Usually I don’t mind the solitude; today however it makes me feel extra lonely. I stretch out my legs and jump as something brushes against my bare ankle. Reaching under, I pull out Alex’s dropped beanie; the one Jack had attempted a field goal with. I wind the purple hat through my fingers, debating what to do with it. Finally I decide to drop it into my bag that I always have with me behind the counter.

An older couple walks in then and starts asking novice questions, keeping me busy for the next hour. It’s enough to make forget all about the beanie tucked into my bag for safe keeping.