Let The Walls Break Down

I watched the lanky, skunk haired boy leave, smiling to myself. I liked him, he seemed like a cool kid to hang with. He was interesting, he wasn’t like the other stupid guys my age in this town. He didn’t talk, for one thing. Jack seemed like he had everything figured out, like the world was in the palm of his hand and he didn’t need to talk to live in it. So he was a little shy ? He was still an awesome guitar player, and he made the whole not-talking thing work for him. Jack was just unique.

The next day was Saturday, yet I still had to work. I didn’t actually mind working, since it was pretty much just me hanging out in the store all day and getting paid. The people in this town (aside from my friends and I) weren’t really into the music scene, so no one hardly came in. Hell, I didn’t even know how we stayed in business. The shop was rather old-school, with thin maroon carpeting, old records adorning the walls, and the smell of dust hanging in the air. Only me and one other guy, my friend Matt, work here besides the owner who barely comes in. I’ve been working here two years and I’ve met the guy like three times. I heard the bell on the door ring, and I looked up to see Jack walking in. He had a small dry erase board tucked under his arm, and he was walking toward me. He held up the board, which read “I meant to buy some picks yesterday, but I forgot.” He smiled tentatively, and I pulled out the plastic bin full of various packages of picks for him. “Grab whatever you want, on the house.” I don’t know why, but I felt the strong urge to be nice to Jack, I felt like not a lot of people were. I guess most people couldn’t get past the no-talking thing and didn’t give him a chance. I had a feeling though, that underneath the façade, Jack was the clever boy I imagined.
He smiled brightly, and wrote out a thanks. He looked so happy as he looked through the bin, and I wanted to make him smile again. Jack pulled out a packet of purple guitar picks, and I nodded approvingly. “So, Jack, I was thinking that you could play for me some more.” His face lit up once more, and I grinned widely in return. He nodded, and we headed to the back room.

We sat on boxes in the storeroom, chatting about music and strumming our guitars. Jack played “I Miss You” by Blink 182 for me, and I resisted the urge to sing along with it, I didn’t want to be weird and freak him out. After that, I pulled my guitar into my lap and we played some Green Day together.
Jack left around the same time as yesterday, leaving me alone once again. He kept crossing my mind as I shuffled around the store, dusting for lack of anything better to do. I had to admit, he was a good looking kid. Not in the conventional way, but still….hot. It was okay for me to think someone was hot right ? Jack is my friend, he is male, and he is good-looking, nothing wrong with admitting it. But really, he was everything I could ask for in a partner….he could play guitar, he liked the same music, he was funny (even without talking), and he was nice. Jack was a pretty cool dude, to be honest.
I didn’t work the next day, in fact, I didn’t work again until Wednesday. On Monday, Matt asked me to come down to the store and help him with some boxes, so I agreed. I was curious as to whether Jack had come in again on Sunday, but I didn’t quite know how to ask Matt.

I grabbed my keys, exiting the storeroom and ready to head out. It was 3pm on a Monday, and I wanted to beat the traffic rush. The door dinged, alerting Matt and I of a new customer. The familiar skunk-haired boy approached me, “Hey Alex.” “Hey Jack ! Actually, I don’t work today, and I’m about to head out, want to come with me ?” He nodded in delight, and we walked out together, leaving a confused Matt in our wake.

I glanced at Jack, “Did you come in yesterday ? I forgot to tell you I don’t work until Wednesday. I had to help Matt with something today, I’m glad I caught you.” He held up his board, “No. But okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Where are we going ?” We reached my orange ’67 Mustang, and I motioned for him to climb in the passenger seat. I situated myself in the car before replying “Wherever you want, Jackalope.” He grinned, showing me the board “Nice car. And Jackalope ?” I chuckled, “I like giving people nicknames.” We pulled out of the parking lot with no destination.

I started for the highway with no particular place in mind. I lit a cigarette, placing it between my lips and taking a long drag. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do you ?” Jack looked at me, a little mesmerized, “No.” I held up the pack, “You want one ?” He shook his head, his expression a little scared. “You don’t know how to smoke, do you ?” Another tentative head shake. This kid was too cute. I pulled over before we reached the bridge leading to the highway. “You wanna try ?” “Yes.” I lit up another cigarette, grabbing his hand and placing it between his fingers, showing him how to hold it. I demonstrated how to inhale and exhale, watching as he inhaled too much too fast and coughed hard. I gave him my water bottle, patting him on the back. “You’ll get used to it.” I started the car, pulling back onto the road. “Flick the ashes off every once in a while. Pay attention to when it burns down, and throw it out the window when you’re done.” He got the hang of it in a few drags, and he looked so happy and accomplished. I made light conversation as I drove, “So, how long has it been since you’ve talked ?” I glanced at the board, “Six years.” I whistled, “Damn, that’s a long time.” He nodded. “You’re something, you know that ?” I smirked at him, my heart beating a little faster.

I want to be the one to break Jack’s silence.