I rushed to the music hall, grabbed my bass from Mr. Smith and went into the empty studio used for small ensembles or practice for electric instruments. It was almost soundproof inside and I would take that to my advantage to run scales and patterns. I strapped my wood grain bass over me and started to play a somber sounding melody, at least I liked to think it was.

Justin opened the door, causing me to abruptly stop the sting vibrations.

“Don’t mind me.”

“You’re a music fan, eh?”

“I sing in the shower.”

“Not in the locker room, I hope,” I said with a grin. “Although I think I’d like to see that.”

“I’d have to charge admission,” Justin replied as he cleared his throat. “What’s a song we both know?”

I didn’t think Justin knew anything by Izzy Stradlin, NIN, or All Time Low, so I plucked a bass line and Justin started laughing. “I know this one…and it’s not ‘Ice Ice Baby’. I’ll take the Bowie part.”

His voice, just about a spot-on of the Starman himself. I took a deep breath and tried my best at impersonating Mercury, impressing myself in the proces. We caught ourselves staring at each other as our song reached a crescendo.

The song ended with Justin grinning as I breathed a sigh of a relief, I didn’t forget a note or lose pitch.

“I have a confession,” he began, and the gears of bad news turned in my head, “and you cannot laugh when I tell you.”

“I’ll do my best,” I replied as I turned the amplifier down and then switched it off.

“If this gets out, then I’ll lose my popularity status here…but,” Justin gave out a long and exaggerated sigh, “I’ll take that chance. I play piano.
Lessons since I was seven.”

“Why don’t you play in the jazz ensemble?”

“It’s not what I want to, music-wise.”

“You want to be on ‘American Idol’ someday, right?”

“Maybe. I want to skip the embarrassment of Simon telling me I was just a carbon-copy pretty boy who sings.”

I opened my guitar case and laid my bass inside. “I don’t think you’re a carbon copy.

“You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“One who can sing without auto-tune, so that’s another thing you have going for you.”

“I’m kind of stuck on the ‘pretty boy’ comment.”

“You said it,” I replied as I closed the case,” I just agreed with you. I won’t tell a soul you play the piano, but I expect you to play this afternoon. I’ll grab one of the synthesizers.”

“A synth…ah, my old piano teacher would be rolling in her grave, if she was dead. Instead, she will find out and beat the crap out of me.”

I grabbed for my case, but Justin reached out and picked it up. I had a slight twinge to yank it from him as that guitar was like my baby, but we walked out of the room with him carrying it with ease. We walked back an in-coming music class and there were some whispers and pointing by a girl who I knew would report our actions to Becca.

“What were you doing with Justin this time?” Becca asked me as I stood at my locker.

“What are they saying?” I asked, my eyes as wide as saucers with sarcasm.

“Mom and Dad are not going to like it.”

“I already like it, and I have no idea what ‘it’ is.”

Becca rolled her eyes, leaned in, and whispered. “You can’t just walk around the school with Justin feeling your ass.”

“Bass. He was carrying my bass. As in guitar. But, you know, give the people what they want, right?”

“Ok, whatever. Rikki,” Becca said as she looked down the hall. I turned to see what she was staring at and saw Justin.

“You like him, don’t you?” I asked.

“Every girl does,” Becca replied and then turned back to meet my eyes. “Which is why every girl in this school will be against you once it’s out there.”

“Once what is out there?”

“That the two of you are an item.”

“Do you think I should ask him out? I admit, I’m considering it, and everyone wants me to it seems.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, maybe I want to be with him.”

“But he doesn’t know about the ‘real’ you.”

“Fuck you, Becca!” I yelled as I slammed my locker door closed.