“You’re picturing me as a little girl at the bookstorerightnow.”
“How could youknowthat?”
“You got a dreamy look in your eyes. Don’tromanticizeit.”
“It’s just a little poetic, you know? You grew up there and hated it for so long. Now that you’ve come around, it’sclosing.”
“Are you giving me a lesson or not?” she asked, changing thesubject.
I was sitting opposite of Michelle and leaned forward in my seat, so I could show her where to place herhands.
“Okay, so the first note I’m going to have you play is an A. You’ll need to stick your finger right here.” I touched the fret. She put her finger in the spot as soon as I moved mine. “Good. Now push down hard while you pluck thisstring.”
She did it and gave me a look that stole my breath. If I’d known playing one note, even as badly as she did, could bring that much joy, I would have done this without thefight.
I cleared my throat. “Okay. So now take your middle finger and place it here.” I pointed to a new spot, and she followed my directions until she played the next note. “Good. Now take your fingers off the fret and strum the string without pressinganything.”
Once again, shecomplied.
“Now I want you to play all three notes inorder.”
Michelle placed her fingers on the neck and played the first one, then stretched her hand to try to reach the next. A line formed between her brows as she looked intently at theguitar.
“It’s a lot harder than itlooks.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” I got up. “Here, sit on theottoman.”
Michelle did what I said without arguing. Where was this girl who followed orders the first time we worked together? I came up behind her and leaned in closely. As I did this, I wrapped my left arm around hers to help position her fingers. “You’re going to have to curl your hand to reach the places you need to pressdownon.”
I was close enough to hear her swallow before she nodded. Close enough to smell her hair. The scent was incredible and made it hard to thinkclearly.
I stayed in my spot while she tried again, training my gaze on her fingers. It was a little better. “Tryagain.”
She played the same three notes over and over again. I didn’t move. I found myself leaning nearer when I should have been getting back to my spot on the couch. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. It looked so smooth. I wanted to touch it. The playing stoppedabruptly.
“My fingers are starting to hurt. How do youdoit?”
I turned my hand so that my palm was facing up. “Calluses.”
Michelle ran her fingers over mine and looked up at me. Her face was inches from my own. The expression she wore was serious as her eyes searched mine. They moved quickly back and forth as she focused on one eye, then theother.
It was obvious what was supposed to happen next. For some inexplicable reason, Michelle wanted me to kiss her. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. My heart was currently attempting to leap out through my chest, and my lungs forgot howtowork.
Michelle began leaning even closer to me. This was it. At the ripe age of nineteen, I was finally going to kiss a girl. Or more accurately, have a girl kiss me. Her eyelids fluttered closed. I tried to take a breath but realized I still hadn’t let out thelastone.
I jumped off the couch in a panic. Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized Michelle had been leaning into me. So when I moved, she fell off the ottoman and onto the ground. My guitar went flying as she used her arms in an attempt to catchherself.
Thankfully, it looked like it hit the rug and it would be fine. Michelle, on the other hand, didn’t look so good. She was on her back on the ground in front of me. A quick survey told me she wasn’t hurt physically, but it was apparent she wasangry.
“What the hell,Rainier?"
I tried to help Michelle up, but she smacked away my hands before getting up off the ground. She refused to make eye contact with me and stormed off into the other room. I followed her into what was the kitchen and watched as she leaned against the counter and pulled out herphone.
"Michelle."
"I think you should leave," she said, still not lookingatme.
“Stopit."
