He stood with both hands shoved into his pockets, his head was tilted ever so slightly backwards and to the side- almost like he was probing me with his eyes: it made me feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to look at it."
He walked up to me, "You're doing more than just looking at it."
"I'm sorry, honest," I apologized and disentangled myself from the strap and handed the bass to him. He paused and pursed his lips, "Do you by any chance have an invitation to be back here?"
I looked at him closely. Clearly now, I could see he was one of the gentlemen I had been rude to. I sighed in embarrassment, " I am sorry. It was horrid of me to be that way. I'm embarrassed to say the least."
"Don't apologize," he smiled, "you're the birthday girl after all. How old are you, 15?" He teased.
I smiled, "I sure acted that way, didn't I?"
He sat down on the speaker across from me and nodded, "Perhaps, but you apologized so I'll have to forgive you."
I knew he was joking but I still felt miserable.
"If I let you play my bass will you stop looking dreadfully sorry for yourself?"
I was taken aback, "Pardon? It was not in my intentions to be sorry for myself."
He smiled, "Well I think it is."
"Oh you do?"
"Yeah, I think so."
No one had ever challenged me that way before. I stared at him coldly, and took his bass from his hands. My fingers hesitated as to where they should go.
"Hold on."
He walked up and sat behind me, "This hand goes around the neck," he placed my hand in one spot, "and this hand strums. Loosen your fingers," he took my fingers and placed them softly on the strings, "good, now watch."
He took my free hand in his and strummed the bass. I wasn't paying attention to the bass; I had lost my focus in how small my hand looked in his.
When my fingers came off of the strings, they felt tender. "If you choose to learn, your fingers will get tough and it'll hurt less," his breath tickled my ear and sent a rush down my spine. He stood then and patted his long hair down, "You should go now," he stammered "people are going to start wondering where you are."
I nodded, handed him his bass once more and started to walk away when the young man called me, "Hey wait there, what's your name?"
I smiled, "Jacqueline, why?"
"I need to know who to sing happy birthday to," he smiled nervously too.