It was a cold night in March of 2013. I was utterly sick and tired of hearing my mother and father jabber on about nonesense. So I grabbed my Washburn guitar and escaped to our front porch.
I sat there for at least twenty minutes wrapped up in a huge hoodie of my dad's. My fingers were frozen from strumming the chords and my mind was wandering beyond the music. I was just about to head inside when I heard hushed voices.
"Girls with guitars are pretty hot."
"Then go talk the her."
"No you go dumb ass."
I looked up to see three guys, you were one of them, standing near my mailbox. I met eyes with one of your friends and quickly pretended I hadn't noticed the trio before me. My heart raced as I heard one of your friends approach me.
"You look lonely." He said smoothly.
I couldn't help the grin that met my lips from his cheesy line. I sort of mumbled and nodded and you and the other guy came over to. You were leaning against the porch pillar in a hunter green hoodie, an awkward smile on your face.
"Hey I'm from Russia." You said and you're friends gave you looks of disapproval.
From your thick southern accent there was no mistaking you for a Russian but I nodded playfully in agreement nonetheless.
Time passed and we strummed some songs. You even tried to play your song which was picking each chord. I don't know how but you made even that simple thing the worst guitar playing I'd ever heard. You friend even pretended to cry.
We talked and joked. And I'll be the first of us to admit I never saw myself being anythin more that a random conversation to you or with you.
When you three walked away three hours later just after midnight, I was overwhlemed with glee. I was so happy and excited. I'd wanted to talk to the lot of you since we'd moved in but had never had the guts. I was on cloud nine that Saturday night as I drifted to sleep.
And that was the day we met.
