Nemo was a young man who noticed girls and women, and he couldn't help but notice her lovely smile. His cheeks flushed again and he wished he weren't as stoned as he was. He glanced down at his Converses, one of them was untied.
"I like the Pixies," he answered. "Buddy Holly," he shrugged. "Things like that." Like any teenager, music was important to him, he just didn't like anything current. At length, he looked up again, nodding hair away from his eyes. When he saw her digging in her pocket, he pursed his lips. "I don't have a car," he admitted. "I can ask a neighbour to drive, or I can give you some bungee chords to strap the stuff on the back."