"Mom when you said I was taking guitar lessons I didn't think you meant actually bringing in a teacher to tutor me for an hour. Isn't it normal to go to their house instead of the other way around?" I sighed.
"Oh shush Michael, this was the cheapest teacher I could get, and don't go complaining about it, you were begging for a teacher ever since you got that damn guitar." My mother yelled from the other room. She was right, I loved playing guitar, and when my parents got me my first one last year I practically prayed to them so they could give me a teacher. That day was finally here, and I was hoping this teacher wasn't some old hag or nutshell that would lecture me on about music. I'm Michael Clifford, the only music I know is punk and rock, I definitely did not want some oldie to teach me the ways of classical music, just thinking about it made me hurl.
"Mom are you sure it won't be some old loser?"
"Michael watch your mouth, I'm just as clueless as you are as who this guy will be so just hold your tongue and wait for him to show up. He should be here any minute now-" she was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell, and she immediately went into what I like to call 'fake' mode, where her voice gets all high pitched and sweet, honestly it was the creepiest thing ever but everyone else thought it was normal.
"Hi I'm here to teach Michael." I heard a voice at the door, it was deep and somewhat gruff. It obviously had to belong to a man.
"Yes, come in, let me show you to his room. He's been going on and on about how much he loves guitar and how much he wants to learn." She rambled on, and I rolled my eyes, waiting for her to open the door to my room.
"Oh that's great, I love kids who are eager to learn." I almost puked when the man said that. Kids. Did he think I was five or something? There was a knock on the door and I yelled a loud come in. My mom entered along with a young guy who looked about twenty. He had blond hair that tufted up into a quiff and blue eyes that reminded me of sapphires. He was wearing a pink plaid shirt and skinny jeans, and he carried an acoustic guitar on his right shoulder.
"Michael, this is your guitar teacher, Mr. Hemmings." My mom introduced him. He smiled weakly, sticking his hand out for a shake. I shook it, and nodded a hello. "Okay, I'll let you two get started." My mom closed the door, and I sat down on my bed, Mr. Hemmings stood awkwardly in the corner by the door playing with his fingers.
"So... Michael-"
"Please call me Mikey."
"R-right well uh Mikey, have you ever taken guitar before? Or is this your first time?" He asked.
"First time." I said simply.
"Right, well uh let's start with the basics. Is it okay if I take a seat?" He pointed to one of the chairs at my desk and I nodded. I grabbed my guitar, and waited for him to settle.
"Okay we'll start with the basic chords, here we have a C chord." He strummed, and I copied his motion. "Great job! Now here we have a D chord." He strummed again and I replicated his action. "Wonderful!"
"You don't have to treat me like a baby, I'm sixteen years old."
"Haha sorry, I'm just so used to teaching younger kids, you're probably one of my oldest students." He scratched his head, "anyways moving on, this is a G chord." He strummed, and I watched his fingers glide across the strings. I copied for one more time and he started playing all the chords in a pattern.
"Here, now try playing all the chords." He instructed. I did as I was told, messing up a bit on the first one.
"Ugh fuck." I hissed with annoyance, and Mr. Hemmings just smirked in amusement. "What's so funny, I'm struggling here." I said, and he laughed.
"I'm not used to my students swearing in front of me." He snickered. He moved his hands over to mine, and touched them, correcting the position I was in so that I could strum the chords properly. Something about that touch made me giddy, his hands were nice and warm, and I got sparks in my stomach when his delicate fingers brushed against mine. Don't get attached Mikey, he's just your teacher, nothing less and nothing more.
We continued practicing for another hour before Mr. Hemmings had to leave and go on to his next student.
"See ya Mr. Hemmings."
"See ya Mikey! And one more thing."
"What?"
"Call me Luke."
(Yet another new fic. Another Muke fic at that. I just want to say thanks for all of the readers on all of my fics, you guys make me happy)
