Alternative

short story of a girl who's starting to hate her co-worker a little less.

Jessica rolled her eyes at the country music blasting over the speakers. The patter of feet behind her alerted her to Tyler's presence. If she were braver she would have turned and told him to leave her alone, she doesn't need help, but she's too afraid of a confrontation to risk that.

"You can put that-" He started, pointing, but she turned to glare at him. He stopped. A few minutes passed in silence. "Are you not into this music or...?"

"I hate it." She responds without looking at him. Flashbacks of her childhood flashed in her eyes. Cow boy hats and country music.

"What do you like?" He asked and she almost felt bad for him. Dumb a*s. trying to talk to her. He doesn't have any other friends at work really, because he's a horrible person, so being the new girl made her open to his advances.

"Alternative."

"Scremo?"

"Not today, Satan." Tyler laughed at her joke, thinking he had won her over already. Hell no.

"So, is it like music without words?" He asked and she turned to stare at him for a moment. she wondered if he was being serious, could he really not know what alternative music was? What a dumb b***h. She pulled out her phone and opened her playlist, holding out a headphone for him to take and sticking the other in her own ear. Then she watched his face as he heard his, presumably, first alternative song.

When it was over she went to ask him what he thought of it. despite how much she disliked him she was filled with a longing for approval in any sense from anyone, especially on her music taste. She loved to be complimented on her music taste. But before she could get out the question a knock at the store's door interrupted them. Tyler went to check it out.

Jessica put her phone back in her pocket and watches as Tyler interacted with a woman outside. She saw him shake his head a few times and the woman left. When Tyler came back she asked what happened.

"She wanted milk, for her kid." He paused. "I hate having to turn people away like that. I hate to make people go without. Cause, you know, I know what it's like to go without." He looked up at her and she nodded, and for a moment she didn't hate him. But that moment passed when she remembered him shooting spit balls at her in sixth grade.