Adam had, moments before, set upon a particular course of action. It largely involved ignoring the brute for as long as was possible, letting his music set the score for his inevitable, bodily removal from the shop. To Adam's mind the man had at least a foot and no small number of pounds on him, and this conversation was quickly shaping up to be more trouble than it was worth. Adam felt quite certain there was nothing in the shop worth taking a beating for, and for years the concepts of calculated risks and strategic retreats had been his preferred M.O. But it seemed his slender neighbor had other plans.
"That's alright," he said, reaching up to tug one small earbud from his ear. It fell lax around his neck, thumping lightly against his black tee shirt. He tried to place her name, but it slipped his mind; all the same she felt familiar, known to him in a way she could not place. He looked to her, rather than to the makeshift bouncer, rolling his shoulder to remove it from beneath the other man's grip. "I was just leaving."
"Fuckin' right you were," the clerk said. He looked from Adam to Lily, as if sizing up the potential trouble they might cause him were he to cast them both out together. Dimly he recognized the girl, but the pale, skinny boy was an unknown quantity. Uncertainty, however, did not seem to lessen his vehemence. "We can refuse anybody for any reason. He's scaring off the clientele, Hot Topic lookin' motherfucker."