It was the same anxiety coming after him as he stood on the sidewalk, in front of boys who towered over him. Sammy hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, so they were calling him puny and small. The one who stopped their bullying was Connor, who was taller than all of them.
The only reason Sammy was now in front of their garage was because of Connor. Because after his small realization there was something truly different inside him, he began to chase him in hopes of figuring out what it was. There was something carnal in him, though Sammy was beginning to shove it down, convinced it was just thoughts that would come and go. Yet they stayed and would resurface when he looked at Connor and his long wavy hair.
It was a warmer November than Sammy had experienced, or remembered, so he stood there, hand on the strap that was holding his guitar on his back. Connor asked Sammy to come over, shortly after Sammy told him that he played guitar. At first, it was a ploy to try and impress him, and it seemed to work because Connor seemed to get excited, which made the sudden butterflies in his stomach soar. It was when Connor revealed he played the drums that Sammy realized it could be an ad for guitarists to join the band either Connor was trying to start or was a part of.
Lo and behold, Sammy was right.
He peered into the garage, face contorting in slight disgust at the lighting and overall dingy look that the older boys brought to place. Connor welcomed him in, sitting behind his drums, blowing a strand of stray hair out of his face. He rested his elbows on his knees, watching as Sammy took a seat and started to unpack his guitar.
"How often do you play?" One of Connor's buddies asked, plopping down in a chair on the other side of the room. Sammy glanced up, face turning into a scowl at the roughness of his guitar. As he looked back down at his kept instrument, Sammy muttered.
"Probably more than you-"
"What?" His friend leaned in, the look of annoyance on his face. Sammy snapped his gaze back up, offering a sarcastic smile.
"Often." He said simply and sweetly. Connor patted him on the back, a touch that made Sammy's body freeze up.
"I believe you have talent." He said. Sammy glanced back, offering a genuine smile.
"Thanks."
"Con-why'd you invite this kid?" A boy sipping a juice box asked. He was resting on a podium on the other side of the room. Sammy ignored the comments, quickly tuning his guitar. When he placed it in his lap, the strings feeling familiar. Sammy positioned his fingers to play a simple G-cord. The strum vibrated the note out crisply. He looked up, closing his eyes gently. Sammy's instrument had become so familiar, like a second limb to him, that this small adjustment always seemed to lock the location of the certain notes into his brain.
"So... how's this gonna work?" Sammy asked. He noticed how Connor tilted his head, eyes beginning to squint, the expression on his face that of small curiosity.
"Do I do a barre cord and you'll be impressed?" Sammy asked, raising an eyebrow. Though they couldn't tell he was joking, they began to snicker. Sammy frowned.
"Show us," Without looking, Sammy lined up his fingers and played the cord, hearing no rough thrum of his misplaced position. Their snickers fell from the air, leaving the place in a tense silence. He stared at them, feeling a smug grin beginning to come to his face. It was the same face he'd make at his sister when he'd win at something they were competing. That cocky "I beat you" grin.
"How quick can you play?" Connor was asking, not a hint of duel wielded possibilities behind his question. Sammy noticed how genuine he sounded, not like the people he was surrounding himself with. His fingers moved smoothly, forming into quick cords. Sammy's strumming had no interruptions, no second-guessing. It was simply muscle memory, allowing for his fingers to move quickly, letting go of the strings, never getting stuck on a spot.
"That enough for you?" Sammy glanced at the boys at the other side of the room. They didn't answer, they only nodded, sharing glanced between them.
"Great," Sammy said simply, letting his guitar rest fully in his lap. Before he began to pack his things up, he threw his head back slowly, looking at Connor.
"What do you guys do?"
"Why?" One of the boys asked. Sammy straightened, annoyance seeping into his tone.
"Do you write songs...? Or do you do covers? I'm no song-writer, but I can sing." He shrugged. Connor huffed a laugh. A sick twisted jump erupted in Sammy's stomach, almost making him go white in the face. Though, he quickly realized it wasn't aimed at him.
"I told you. I only pick good ones." Connor said, crossing his arms. That sentence, his enunciation almost made a feeling rise into Sammy's chest. He couldn't tell what it was, but he was getting overwhelmed. To let the piles of sensations leak out, Sammy began to tap his foot, running his fingers along the strings of his guitar that rested face up in his lap.
"We already have a lead-singer." One of the boys said. Sammy shrugged, rolling his eyes.
"Back-up vocals then? Or do you want me completely silent? I'll do either. I don't care, really." Maybe it was the casualness in his voice, but there was a sense of pride in the way he was speaking. Even more so when Connor put his hands on his shoulders, almost shaking him back and forth.
"He's in."
"Connor." The boys huffed.
"I said he's in." Connor defended Sammy, bringing up a feeling of comfort into his chest. After a second of silence one of the boys walked into the light. With a tight fitting shirt and the shaggiest hair, he used his hands as he spoke.
"Okay-fine!" Connor hummed, still standing over Sammy like a proud figure. Sammy could practically picture the grin on his face.
"But if we let one 12-year-old in, and more people start coming to us, you're both out." Before Sammy could react, Connor squeezed his shoulders, as if telling him silently to not react.
"Alright, fair." The other boy huffed, crossing his arms. Connor leaned over Sammy, a grin on his face as he spoke.
"But no one can play like Sam can."
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Romance"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
