To Love A Warbler

To Love A Warbler-Chapter 17

Jeff's POV

Kirsten came into my room later that night. I had picked up my guitar and was quietly strumming "Photograph" by Nickelback. Nick was on the bed singing backup (he always hung out in my room).

"If I could relive those days, I know the one thing I would never change," Kirsten sang from the door. "Hello, boys."

"Hey, Kirsten."

"Yo."

I hummed some more as she sat next to me. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, nothing much, just heard a guitar and wondered whose it was."

"It's Blaine's, he left it here when he moved."

Kirsten laughed and leaned into me. "Well he has like, seven, so he'll live."

"Really?" Nick asked.

"Well, not seven, more like three. He loves them." She took the guitar from me and I made a noise of protest. "I'm just seeing-oh, you'd better give this one back." She shoved it back in my hands like it was toxic.

"Why? I like it." To prove my point, I strummed a few more chords.

"That's Sami."

"What?"

"He names his guitars. He has Harry, Ron, and this one-Sami. Sami's his favorite. He's going to be ticked that he left her, you'd better give her back."

"Her."

"Yeah."

"It has a gender."

"Yep. That's Sami. I like her, too. Big Baby Taylor, good guitar." She took it back and cradled it. "I was there the first time he played it."

"How long ago?" Nick threw the hackysac from my bedside table up in the air.

"Oh, about...ten, eleven years?"

Nick looked at me. "Crap," I muttered. "And I really liked this one."

"Well, Blaine is going to kill you if he finds out you have it." She started picking out a few chords of her own.

"Isn't he going to get mad at you?"

"Nope. He knows that I know how to handle her."

I shook my head, but she shrugged. "Well, he handles his guitars very specifically."

"Uh huh."

"Well, I should go. I have soccer tryouts in the morning." She handed the guitar back and stretched. "See y'all."

"Bye," Nick said, throwing the hackysac again.

"Bye."

She waved from the door and closed it quietly. I smiled.

"Whipped."

"Excuse me?" I looked at Nick.

"You're whipped."

"No I-"

"Yeah, you are. This is like the third time I've tried to talk to you."

"Oh, sorry."

"Well, like I was saying, the solo tryouts are coming up."

"Are you trying?"

"I've tried out over three times, Jeff."

"And I've tried over six. Blaine's gone now, we might have a chance."

"Well." Nick shrugged and threw the hackysac at me. "I'm going to bed. I'll think about trying out, okay?"