I Am the Rumour on Everyone's Lips

I heard the front door open and glanced over, grinning sheepishly at mom as she simply shook her head. She made her way over to me and examined her car bonnet.

“Don’t you leave a dent in this,” she warned. “I’ll see you later.” She then kissed the top of my head before heading off to her new waitress job. I couldn’t decide if she liked the job or not, but she needed the money either way. I’d have to get a small job to help out a little. I shrugged to myself and continued strumming my guitar, keeping my head down so I wasn’t blinded by the sunlight.

I’d seen those two boys a few more times since the day I moved here, but neither of them seemed to notice me at all. It didn’t bother me, I was used to people not taking an interest in me. I also spotted a girl with… interesting hair wandering around the place, she lived next door to me and I’d sometimes see her at a window with binoculars to her eyes. It did creep me out a little. There was another girl who I guessed was a friend of hers; she often painted in her yard and seemed pretty quiet.

My train of thought and guitar playing was interrupted by the sound of something dropping onto the ground, followed by a mumbled, “shit!” I lifted my head to see a tall boy stood by papers scattered on the floor. He knelt down and began collecting them together, I sighed and decided I’d feel bad if I didn’t help him. Leaving my guitar near my front door, I awkwardly made my way over to the boy.

“Here,” I began as I too knelt on the floor. “Let me help you with those.” I started gathering some of the papers together, handing a couple at a time over to the boy who placed them inside the bag he’d been carrying.

As I reached out to grab the last remaining paper, so did the boy. And, as cheesy and cliché as it sounds, our hands awkwardly touched as we both grabbed it. That’s when I raised my head to see who exactly I was helping out. I recognised him almost right away, remembering the light brown hair and glasses. We stared at each other for a few moments; me trying to figure out where I’d seen him before, him… well I don’t know what he was thinking. We shared a small smile in the same instant I remembered where I’d seen him. Surprisingly, though, he spoke first.

“You’ve just moved in haven’t you?” He asked, jerking his head in the direction of my house. I nodded and finally released the paper, allowing him to place it in the bag with the others. “I’m new around here too. Just moved in with my grandma.” He threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the house across from mine.
“Oh yeah, I saw you the other day,” I replied and he eyed me questioningly. “You were playing guitar in the front yard.” I hoped this was the right guy, or else I’d look stupid. He suddenly smiled, and I guessed my hunch was right.
“Yeah, that was me,” he laughed lightly. “I’m Mikey.” He held his hand out as we eventually stood up again.
“Frank,” I shook his hand and nodded. “Is that your brother? The one you were in the front yard with.”
“Yeah. That’s Gerard.” Mikey’s eyes wandered around for a moment, before they rested on something behind me. “Is that your guitar?” He nodded his head towards my house, I didn’t need to turn around because I remembered where I’d left my guitar.
“Sure is.” I watched as he made his way over to it, appearing mesmerised by the thing. I raised an eyebrow and followed after him. He whistled, carefully holding the guitar in his hands.
“This is better than mine anyway.” I noticed how his face fell when he said that and immediately felt bad.
“I take it you like guitars then?” Mikey faced me again, his eyes sparkling.
“I do. I’ve wanted one for as long as I can remember.” I frowned a little at the tone of his voice, he sounded so disappointed. Just then, I remembered I had something he’d love to see.

“Hey, come check this out.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise and went to place my guitar back where he’d got it from, but I stopped him. “Bring it with you.” I guided him through my house and to my bedroom; he followed cautiously, holding the guitar delicately and making sure he didn’t hit any surfaces with it. Once inside my bedroom, I took the guitar out of his hands and placed it on it’s stand, before making my way over to my bed and lying on the floor by it.

I could feel Mikey watching me as I searched underneath my bed. To say I hadn’t been in this house long - and I didn’t bring much stuff - there was lots of random crap under there. I eventually ended up having half of my body underneath it before I found what I was looking for: some of my old guitar magazines dad used to buy me. I hit my head on the hard edge of my bed in the process of standing up again.

“Ouch! Damn it!” I yelled, rubbing the back of my head angrily. Mikey just laughed at me until I started laughing too. Once the laughing ceased, I examined the bunch of magazines carefully, remembering how dad always supported my playing. I shook my head to rid it of those thoughts and turned to face Mikey. “Here, you need these more than I do.” His mouth dropped open a little as his eyes darted from the magazines to my face; I’d react like that too if a stranger I’d just met was offering me a pile of magazines. He snapped out of it soon, though, grabbing them from my hands.

“Thanks, man. I‘ll-”
“You don’t need to repay me in any way,” I cut him off, knowing full-well what he was going to say. We were doing each other favours here. I wanted to rid myself of those magazines because they only brought back memories or dad; Mikey deserved those magazines because he aspired to own and play a nice guitar. I hoped he’d get that one day, he looked like he deserved it.