I Can Hear the Bells
There’s about a million cool ways to pass the time that don’t involve stealing.
That is, if your little special secret doesn’t involve moving faster than light.
But, perhaps, if you’re lucky enough to be that speedster, that one in five billion special guy, then you’re done with those a million activities in about an hour. And then you’re bored out of your skull. Again.
Just another typical Tuesday for Peter.
It was 5pm when the silver haired boy made the bells on the front door of that old record shop chime. A new shipment of disks had arrived the day before and he calculated that they should be all stocked by now. That little store in that busy street was one of the few places Peter did not steal from. At least not often. The owner was a lovely old guy, Mr. Coleman, had white hair and everything.
Mr. Coleman also was strangely fond of Peter, always greeting him with a smile from behind the counter. Maybe he was like that with everyone, maybe that’s just how he was. He even offered Peter a job at the shop once, and Peter almost took it. He gave up the idea tho, after much introspection, when he realised he wasn’t that into working. He didn’t get the heart to steal from Mr. Coleman’s shop most days. He wasn’t sure if he was going to today. His wallet was in his pockets, just in case.
For now, it was time to peruse those discs at an excruciatingly slow pace. Or normal human speed, as people called it. To steal or not to steal was a philosophical question for later.
The bells by the door chimed again. That wasn’t an unpopular shop. No, it was well located and for sure Mr. Coleman’s charisma helped him acquire some loyal clientele. Hopefully, a clientele that paid for their discs every time they came to the shop, not just most of the time. When Peter got here there was another guy there already. He could try all he wanted, he wasn’t fooling anyone with that all black look. That guy was there for one thing, and one thing only: the new Dolly Parton vinyl.
But that’s beside the point. The point was that, when whoever it was entered the store Peter didn’t even look up. He was too busy looking through the discs and silently judging how Mr. Coleman decided to organise them. Maybe he should have taken that job.
Random person passed behind Peter. He didn’t look up. Random person stopped right beside him. He couldn’t care less. Where the hell was that Pink Floyd album?
“Hi”
Okay, now Peter would have to look at that random person.
Random woman.
Cute woman.
About his age? Maybe a year or two younger.
Cute girl then.
Short. Long dark hair. Beautiful smile.
“Hi” he said back, turning slightly to face her.
And with that her lips where on his.
WHAT?!
Even him wasn’t that fast. Definitely not that desperate.
Was that what the kids have been calling “sexual harassment” these days?
Hellooo, what about consent, woman?
What’s he going to tell the cops? Help me officer, there’s a cute girl kissing me!
Could he even complain? I mean, besides the fact that he didn’t know her at all, this was kinda nice. He hasn’t kissed a girl in a while. She isn’t a bad kisser either.
And look at that, they’re sober. Well, at least he is.
She tastes like…bread. Not very romantic.
But she held his face like she didn’t want him to get away… yep, he was definitely being sexually harassed.
Until it stopped.
Her lips left his lips.
Her hands left his cheeks.
And he was left with an expression that resembled a blind stray lonely puppy lost in the middle of a mass shooting.
“Thank you” she said with a smile before leaving the store, making the bells chime.
WHAT?!
Now he was even more confused. She fucking left?! Was the kiss bad? Well, she wasn’t that great of kisser either.
“Son.” Mr. whatever-his-name-was-right-now called him from behind the counter. Peter just lifted his head, showing his confused look in all its glory. “Go get her.”
Mr. Record-shop-owner probably was enjoying it more than he should; he had a front row ticket to the whole show after all. But Mr. Record-shop-owner was right. Whoever that little woman was, Peter needed to find her. She owned him an explanation. Or, in the very least, another kiss.
The bells by the door chimed once again. Catching up to her wasn’t going to be a problem. But what way did she went? Hell, what was she wearing? That’s it, Peter would kiss every single woman in that street if it was the only way to find her. Apparently, kissing strangers was cool now? So lock up your wives and daughters, Peter was on a mission!
Oh, there she was, nevermind! He didn’t have do kiss anyone after all. To his left, small girl in a blue sweater that seemed a little too big for her. She was walking fast, probably in a hurry, probably escaping a crime scene. But she could not run from him. No one could.
Looking to his left, he completely missed the four guys in all white jumpsuits and helmets being led by a punk kid also in a white jumpsuit that were to his right. And that sight was a hard thing to miss.
“Hey!” He said zooming in beside the random little woman in a blue sweater. The street was packed, but he doubted anyone noticed someone appearing out of nowhere. Or that anyone could prove anything. The woman panicked at the sound of his voice, but granted, he used the tone his mother tends to use on him. Even so, she seemed relieved when she looked up and saw it was Peter talking to her. But she hasn’t stopped walking. She didn’t even slow down.
“Oh, hi again” a quick smile. The audacity of this bitch.
“What was that about?” He demanded
“I’d rather not say”
“Well, don’t you think I deserve an explanation or something?”
“Not really” Oh, he had enough. He went a little faster than her – which wasn’t a problem at all for him – Got in front of her and abruptly stopped, making her stop too.
“Stop!” She finally stopped. Now it was her turn to look like a blind lonely puppy in the middle of a mass shooting. Peter almost felt sorry for her. “Do you want to grab a milkshake?” He looked to the side and so did she. They were in front of a dinner. “they have good burgers too” She examined his face as she thought about it.
“I don’t have any money on me”
“That’s ok, I got it.” She thought about it some more.
“Ok”
They walked in. Bells chimed once again.