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 Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 6:17 pm
"I had to Frankenstein my baby some," the other boy admitted, "getting parts for the eighties Spectrum -- goddamn insane. Should've gone with the Yamaha. Don't have the money to paint her bright red either. I mean, s**t, lipstick red? Come on. Guess it's your choice, but."
Obviously there was something intrinsically wrong with lipstick red, but it seemed like Jesse approved of everything else about the scarlet-red motorbike. Charys was saying, "I delivered pizza to your mom last night," but all that Jesse did was give her the finger idly. He didn't even look mad: it was Charys Murphy, she said that kind of stuff like breathing.
Eventually, all that the Hillworth boy said was: "Anyway, nice wheels." He had no idea about the three second rule, obviously: he just looked at Barnaby, looked and looked, as though still sizing him up from before and unsure as to where to go from there. He leant against the counter, louchely. He was the type of guy to lean.
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 6:39 pm
"Nothing wrong with red. It's different." Not to mention he hadn't decided what colour the bike was. The young man who'd owned it before him had. Besides, what was wrong with having a brightly coloured bike? It was unique, and nobody would miss you in the dark. At least he wasn't middle aged, riding around on a Harley like he was having a midlife crisis.
Still, Jesse had said it was a nice bike, so he could forgive any comments about its colour. It was one of those 'don't judge a book by its cover' things (not that anyone ever followed that, but one had to pretend to have a little faith sometimes). He tipped his head in a momentarily thoughtful gesture, before he asked, "You don't get into trouble at Hillworth for having that bike? Meadowview's on me all the time about mine."
Maybe he ought to name his something like Allison Lee and they'd leave him alone.
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 7:13 pm
"Hillworth don't give a s**t," said the other boy succinctly. "I just keep it in the garage. It's not a car. They don't care what the ******** you have when you got no money and you're getting extra A's off shop class -- they think if I'm getting an A in anything they can shut the ******** up about it, let me keep Allison at the school." He ran one hand through his dark blonde hair. "Am I meant to ride her? ********, no."
That much was obvious: am I listening to them? ******** no!
"You're just a Meadowview boy, though, you all go to a school where people give a damn about what you do. Yeah, they don't care at Hillworth." Aggressive. "They don't give a <******** knows the trouble I see," said Charys Murphy, interested in her cellphone again. "Nobody knows my sorrow."
"You." Jesse's finger was pointing at Charys. "Are on my list."
"His name is Barnaby and he's eighteen," said the bluenette, "and he plays baseball. Just before you got all shy and cute about asking him. Hey, Barns, want me to give him your number and cut out the middle man."
"On. My. List."
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 8:07 pm
Ah. Well, that certainly explained a few things.
"You're getting A's in shop? Lucky b*****d." Barnaby tried to focus on the more positive things in Jesse's mini-rant, if only to avoid reopening the Hillworth subject. He'd heard many things about Hillworth, but who hadn't? It was sort of the universal synonym for bad boy. But it was sort of hard to appreciate the rumours when a blonde teenager was snarling about how nobody cared and seemed to mean it. Unlike Charys Murphy, Barnaby did have a sympathetic bone in his body.
The redhead snorted when the bluenette listed off the equivalent of a Facebook profile, adding, "You forgot the part about my dashing good looks. But he can have my number if he wants it…" He glanced at Jesse for confirmation.
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Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 3:40 am
Jesse coloured. "Wouldn't be of any goddamn use to me," he said a bit carelessly. "You think I look like a guy who has some fancy-a** cellphone? They'd take it off me before I could use the thing as a blackjack, Meadowview boy." Instead, he pointed at him, and he said: "You are going to be here next Tuesday. I am going to be here next Tuesday. Six o'clock. And you are going to tell me you enjoyed the hell out of Gladiator and that you were a sad son of a b***h for never seeing it before."
"Or that he snoozed through it," said Charys.
"Murphy. On my list."
Jesse waved to his boys, who put down their movies. "We're out," he said. Put one hand in his pocket. "See you around, Price."
And then Alvarez and his goons were gone.
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