The Record Store;

vi

the record store; vi; 5sos.

"So." He said, after he had taken a small sip of his drink and sat it back down on the table, the liquid lapping from side to side before it settled. "Tell me about you?"

"I'm female." I said, jokingly. "If you didn't already know that."

He rolled his eyes at me, like a parent would at an embarrassing child. "How about I tell you what I know about you, and then you fill in the gaps."

"Sure." I said. "You probably know more about me than I know about myself."

He disregarded my comment before speaking again. "So, you're Hollie. You're a year younger than me, and you've only ever gone to one open mic night. You're pretty and have a thing for the Jonas Brothers." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, at least you got my name right!" I said, before taking a sip of my own drink, before looking around the room once more, taking in the surroundings. It was a pretty place, sort of homey, yet commercial, but a good mix of the two. It had changed a lot since I'd last been here, which, when I thought about it, was quite a long time ago.

"I got everything right, Hol." He told me, before speaking again. "You don't mind me calling you that, right?" He suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Hol is good." I said. "But if I get the nickname, you should get one too."

"It's a little hard to shorten mine." He fiddled with the napkin on the table. "But I guess we'll find something."

"Soon, I'll hold you to it." I said, as a took a final sip of the drink out of my cup, and pulling the napkin over my mouth to wipe it.

"Shame." He said. "I was enjoying the drink moustache you'd grown."

"Weirdo." I said, before subsequently checking my face for any remaining drink which decided my face was a better place for it to go than anywhere else.

"Do you prefer Coke or Pepsi?" He asked, clearly not himself taken aback by the strangeness of the question he just asked.

"Pepsi." I dragged the word out. "Why?"

"I just remembered a game I used to play when I was a kid, in the car, to get to know people better. You had to ask each other questions, and whoever couldn't answer one they were given lost. So, I'm starting it now."

"So, no matter how strange the question is, if you can't answer, you loose." I asked.

"Don't girls play this at sleepovers or something?"

"Nope. We eat food and cry over Channing Tatum." I answered honestly. "Or prank call the pizza guy."

"Your go. Ask me the strangest question you can think of. I'll just get you another drink okay." He said as he stood up, and walked his way over to the counter.

By the time he made it back, I had a list of questions in the back of my mind. Most of them were surprisingly normal, but a few weird ones had made their way into the list. He passed me the mug of hot chocolate (I'd chosen something more extravagant than tea, on his request), his hand lingering on the cup as I took it. I placed it down in front of me as he sat down himself, his back arching against the tiny booth he'd chose to sit in.

"Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a girl?" I asked, watching the look of shock come onto his face as I finished the sentence. He started to laugh, the sound making me smile.

"I have, just now." He laughed again. "When was your first kiss?"

"A boy, when I was six. He couldn't stop running, and he sort of ran into my lips." I laughed, actually realising how funny it sounded out loud. "He couldn't look me straight in the face for the rest of the year."