08. Sparks

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Julian was right where he said he'd be the next afternoon. I didn't even notice him at first, my eyes immediately scanning for the neon orange I'm used to seeing him in. He wore a sleeveless shirt with some artsy graphic print on the front and jean shorts.

He was appropriately dressed for this unbearable heat we were subjected to. I'd only been away from my car's air conditioning for a minute and I could already feel a sweat coming on.

"I thought you changed your mind," he said when I was within earshot, a joking grin on his face. "I've heard the stories about girls and guy's hoodies."

"It's too hot for this thing," I admitted, giving him the hoodie which he threw over his shoulder. "I had to stop for gas. And these."

I held up the two beef jerky sticks I purchased from the gas station. They were strategically placed right beside the cast register, two for a dollar, and it was the least I could do since Nova ate his other one.

"Thanks. You didn't have to," he said, taking them from me.

"I got the right kind, right?"

He glanced down at the wrapper and nodded. "Yeah, no, these are perfect."

"Good." I smiled.

There was a silence that followed, making me feel awkward just standing there. We did what we came to do, his hoodie was returned. It was time to part ways. Something held me there though.

Maybe it was what he said the other night, about us being from opposite side. Maybe I wanted to show him that we weren't all that different and that talking to me isn't that difficult of a task.

My gaze shifted to Sprinklez, the windows were covered with old sales papers to shield the renovations from prying eyes. There weren't workers flooding in out of the place now, but there was movement inside.

"What do you think is happening in there?" I asked, nodding to the building.

"Don't know," he replied, turning to look at it himself. "Bobby's guess is a stripper pole."

"What?" I laughed out loud, caught off guard by what he said. "Ice cream and strippers. Really?"

He simply shrugged, chuckling. "I don't know what goes on in that guy's head and I don't want to know."

I looked back up at the building. "I think it's one of those soft-serve machines," I said, to which Julian nodded. "Oh, or a slushy machine. I'd kill for a good slushy. All the places I've been to are either too watery or have no flavor."

"I actually know a place."

"I've probably tried it," I told him, truthfully. I've been to every convenience store, gas station and fast food joint with a slushy sign in the window. None of them living up to my expectations.

"The roller rink on West 16th?"

"Roller rink?" I echoed, my eyebrows raising. "As in roller skating?" He nodded. "I thought those were extinct."

"Not quite."

"I'll have to check it out then."

"Yeah," he agreed, just an alarm went off in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and turned the alarm off. "I have to go to work."

"You have another job?"

"Yes, making sure my brothers don't kill each other." He laughed before ducking into a beat up old car with duct tape around one of the head lights.

"Have fun," I said, waving as he pulled out of the parking space. Once he was gone I climbed into my own car and started it up.

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