Chapter 1 "Spin Around Records"
The air conditioner was broken. Again.
"Just be glad you switched to nights, Skylar." My boss, Larry spoke optimistically. And I'm pretty sure it was meant to dismiss the conversation about it. Bitching wasn't going to fix the problem.
"I got a guy coming in tomorrow to look at it."
"Yep." I nodded and leaned on the counter. If you leaned far enough you could catch a breeze coming through the door. However the breeze was thick with funnel cake grease, and tasted like sea salt and marijuana. All three of which I didn't want.
This was my third shift on nights. I had been working at "Spin Around Records" for about 5 months now. But I had always worked the morning shift. Which I liked. It was quiet. People didn't steal as much. I had time to be in my own thoughts. Night shift wasn't like that at all. The constant revolving door brought in all kinds of strange individuals, who were usually up to no good. It was such a change around here as soon as the sun went down on Santa Carla's boardwalk. During the day, it was a fun filled day for a family. Rides, clowns, cotton candy. The nights around here brought the "freaks" out. Piercings for $10, tattoo parlors opened up. Everyone had crazy colored hair, and smoked joints freely, not worrying about any consequences. There were security guards, but no one really respected them. It was almost as if the night crowd felt entitled to this place. It was theirs for the taking. And if you had a business here on the boardwalk, they took what they wanted.
I wasn't sure how Larry ever made any money with all the theft, but somehow he did. We were the only record store within a 15 mile radius, so if people wanted it, they had to come see us. Larry was a really good guy, and I liked working for him. He even let me rent the apartment upstairs from the store. I think he liked me because he knew I wasn't a trouble maker.
When I walked into the store looking for a job, he laughed at me and asked what did I want with a job at a record store, the cheerleading try-outs were in Beverly Hills, not here. I looked at him straight in the eye, and rambled off the entire Rolling Stones collection of albums, including bootlegs and their release dates. I think I wowed him. He hired me on the spot.
Music is my life. Always has been. Nothing else got me like a good rock song. I just didn't have interest in much else. But I was what you would call a background singer. I was quiet. I was extremely shy. I didn't belong performing. I belonged dreaming about it. And that's what I did.
"I'm gonna get outta here Sky. You take care and call me if you need anything." Larry said, and grabbed the daily deposit to take with him.
"Enjoy the air conditioning at home." I gave him a wry smile.
For the next hour I watched all kinds of characters come and go. A girl with spikey purple hair, a really tall guy with tattoos all over his body, even his face. It was never boring if you people watched.
I found myself at the mercy of a pimple faced 13 year old kid wearing a Star Wars T-shirt
"Do you have the new Stryper album?" His voice cracked as of that of a stereotypical dorky adolescence.
"What do you want with that?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
I couldn't help myself. I was a music snob. It was the one thing I felt I could throw an opinion around and it mattered. And if I didn't like it, I was going to tell you.
"I wanna buy it."
"No, you don't." I rolled my eyes. "That is a terrible record, and I'm not gonna allow you to buy it."
"Why not?" He asked offended.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked with my hand on my hip.
"No."
"That's why. Because you listen to crap like Stryper….Do yourself a favor and go buy an AC/DC album."
He stared at me confused.
"Hurry up, Man! The clock's ticking. Your teenage years are only so long. Go!"
He turned around slowly and headed to the A's.
"And you're lucky I even let you in here with that Star Wars shirt." I called after him.
As if Karma was watching me, I knocked over a huge stack of fliers for some event happening on the boardwalk.
"Ugh!" I moaned and kneeled down to pick the neon orange papers up from behind the counter.
I'm sure plenty of merchandise went out the door without my watchful eye. That was the rule. Don't take your eyes off that door.
While I was down there, I switched records from Twisted Sister to New Order. "Ceremony", one of my favorite songs began to play and I got lost in the dreaminess of it. Larry didn't like me to play the obscure rock records I liked while he was in there, so for all he knew I played Michael Jackson and Hall and Oats everynight.
"Excuse Me" A voice startled me.
"Yes?" I stood up fast and grabbed the glass counter to brace myself.
I was face to face with one of the hottest guys I had ever seen.
He looked like he was in a band. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a little stubble like he had missed a shave on his face. He wore white ripped jeans, a black tank top and a jacket that almost looked like a punk rock version of a tuxedo with tails.
"Would you say this is a good album?" He asked with a smirk.
His voice was playful. It was all I had to act cool.
"You're asking me if I think Disco Duck is a good album?" I struggled to keep a straight face.
"Yes."
"…I think you could do better."
"How so?" He asked.
"Well, …what do you like?"
"What do you like?" He shot back quickly. He was flirting with me, and I was enjoying it.
"Um,…" I took a step back and grabbed my coffee. The shyness was starting to creep in and I needed space between us. "I like a lot of things."
"Are you drinking coffee?"
"I am." I took a swig. But not too big of one, in fear of choking. I'm kinda awkward, and something like that would happen to me.
"It's 9 o'clock at night." He told me as if I didn't know.
"Yes, but I came from the morning shift." I informed him.
"Ohhhhh, so that's why I haven't seen you around." He half smiled.
"So most likely you've used that pick up line on Lydia. What did she think of the Disco Duck album?" I rose my eyebrows at him.
"Lydia? Who's Lydia? The red head?"
I nodded.
"Nah, she's not my type."
"Oh," I laughed at his response. "Lydia's everybody's type."
He gave me an intrigued look and leaned over the counter resting his elbows on it.
"Maybe that's the problem." He said in a low voice as if he was telling me a secret.
I didn't say a word.
"I'm Paul" he smiled.
"Skylar" I answered softly. Then I blushed because I realized how smitten I sounded with him, and that wasn't like me at all.
"That's a pretty name."
I didn't know how to respond to the compliment, so I just didn't.
"Do you have a boyfriend, Skylar?" He had this mesmorizing quality about him, that I couldn't quite put a finger on, but I uncontrollably found myself leaning on the counter across from him.
"What if I do?"
"Well, he's gonna be pretty mad at me."
"Why is that?" I challenged.
"Cause we're hanging out tonight."
"Oh really?" I laughed.
"Yep." He grinned like a cheshire cat. "We are. So I hope he's not the jealous type."
The audacity of this guy!
"What time do you get off work?"
Before I could answer, the jingling bells above the front door snapped me out of the trance I was happily in. An intimidating guy with bleached blonde hair and a trench coat stood in the door, and stared a hole through my new friend.
Paul jerked up off the counter to stand up straight.
"Let's go…now." The guys said in a calm yet controlling voice.
Paul nodded and scratched the back of his head. The guy in the door left.
"So, um,…what time do you get off?" He asked me again, this time a little flustered and preoccupied.
"Eleven", I heard the confusion in my own voice. What was up with that?
"Ok,…meet me at the concert tonight?" He asked
I hesitated, then nodded.
"Cool". He gave me a half smile again and then began to walk towards the door.
"Wait," I called after him "How will I find you?"
He stopped at the door and turned around to face me.
"Don't worry…I'll find you."
And with that he left. The funnel cake air replaced him in the store.
I stared after him.
What had just happened? I never talked to guys like that! Much less would have agreed to go on a date with one of them! I began to chew on my lip, a bad habit of mine when a figure startled me with its closeness.
It was the Star Wars kid. Had he been there the whole time?
He held up a Juice Newton album.
"Seriously?"