Music theory

"Music theory," I reply, "I play a little guitar."

"How cool!" Rose smiles, "You should be a rock star!"

I laugh weakly, trying not to think about what really amounts to very poor playing. Too afraid to ever take lessons from someone, I somehow acquired an old guitar and taught myself, although I never really picked up on those fundamentals. I was able to play, of course, but writing my own music never worked out. I can still recall playing the same old riffs repeatedly because I just couldn't come up with anything else. I used to play them over and over and over until I got sleepy.

My parents never learned of my playing; I knew that they would freak out if they found out I was "wasting my time on trivial things" when I could've been studying. On weekends, when my parents left to see relatives or somewhere else, I'd pull out the beat up instrument and play those riffs until they came back. Hmm, maybe that's why I never got very good. I guess this will be my chance for some formal instruction for once.

"Hehe, yah, I guess so."

"Did you bring your guitar?" she asks. I reach for my instrument case and lift the red Yamaha acoustic from its shell. Rose opens her eyes wide at the sight.

"Wow, it's beautiful," she says, "Can I hear you play?"

I'm taken aback. "What?" I cry, "Me? Play?"

"Yah, why not?"

Because I've never, ever, ever played in front of another person in my whole life, that's why!

"I don't know..." I stammer, not even looking my companion in her eyes, "I suck, actually...I just play the same stuff over and over...I can't help it."

"Awww would you -please- play? It's not just cuz; see, I like to sing!"

"Really?"

"Yah! Hey, I'll tellya what. You play, I promise I won't laugh at you, and I'll close the door so it's just between you and me. I'm not even a very good singer. C'mon!"