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“It’s all good. They’re like male versions of my best friend.”
“I’m guessing your best friend likes teasing you, too.”
“All the time.” I glance at Jase’s phone, examining the duration of each song again. “Are all your songs this short?”
“Yeah. The ones I perform with the guys, Michael helps me compose half of each song. He knows how to play guitar too, and, damn, is he good. But he only wants to focus on singing when he performs with us.” He nods back at his phone. “The ones I showed you, those are just for me. At first, I get really stoked writing them, but then I get stuck.”
“Have you thought about making them longer?”
He snorts. “Nah. Too much work.”
“So lazy!”
“I’m an Advanced Procrastinator, right?”
I laugh and shake my head. “You should at least try.”
“Don’t see a point. I might make them worse.”
“But you might make them better. How will you know if you don’t keep trying?”
He shrugs. I hand him back his phone, and suddenly, this crazy idea forms in my mind. What makes me say it out loud, I have no clue.
“Then it’s a challenge,” I say.
Jase raises an eyebrow.
“I challenge you to fully compose a song.”
“That’s too much work,” Jase says again.
“Fine, add ten more seconds to one you’ve already composed.”
“Too long.”
“It’s barely anything. You are so lazy!”
“I’m an Advanced Procrastinator!”
Why I’m challenging him, I’m not sure. Guess I just want to hear more from him, because there’s potential, I know it. He needs to see that himself.
“Well, I challenge you to show people you don’t know your pictures,” Jase says.
My face falls flat until I remember one thing. “I present every week for the competition, remember?”
“Doesn’t count.”
“What? That’s not fair.”
“Someone’s too scared.”
I throw him a scowl. “Fine, I show my photos to people I don’t know, excluding everyone participating in the competition, and you add ten more seconds to one of your songs. Deal?”
“Deal.”
We shake the same way we did with our first deal, when I agreed to tutor him in exchange for him helping me practice my presentations. This time, when I hold his hand, the callouses warmer than before, a strange feeling stirs inside me.
Right before he steps away, I say, “Oh, and Jase.” He turns to me, and that same, unfamiliar feeling stirs even stronger. “Thank you for asking me about my photos.”
