Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 7.75: January 1, 1987

"How'd you know I played guitar?" I asked, not making eye contact as I continued to stare into the stars. Steven and I were laid down in one of the parking spaces with my head rested on his chest and his arm wrapped around me.

"Oh," he chuckled softly, "I had to ask Les for an idea of what to get you. I like you, so I was really determined to get you a gift you liked. I snooped around a bit and she told me that you were always locked away playing in your room."

Was he admitting feelings for me? Shit.

Even at the thought, my heart began to beat faster by the second. Not because I liked him back, but because I was nervous. Nervous of what to say. I didn't like him, not like that. Steven was a friend of mine, the kiss was purely for New Years. Right? Fuck.

I managed to spit out a simple "oh" before we fell into silence again while gazing into the night sky. "Tell me about yourself, Jimmie." he said after a few minutes. It was like he had totally forgotten that he admitting to liking me only moments before, sitting contently with a smile. "Huh?" I breathed.

"I mean, your life. Your family, hobbies, favorite food. Your favorite song to play on the guitar. The grossest bug that you've ever seen. The first food you go to at a buffet. Your favorite shirt and why. I want to know you, Jimmie."

"Oh, uh.." Shit, what could I do to get out of this? "I dunno. I'm pretty boring, I guess." Please don't ask me anything else. Please don't push it. Please don't-

"Oh, don't give me that. Obviously you have more to you than 'I'm boring'. I mean, Les told me the camp story, that surely wasn't boring." he chuckled.

"Fuck. She told you about that?" I sighed, defeated. I thought that was between Les and I only! "Oh, yeah. She also let it slip that when you're home alone and it's hot out, you-"

"I'm going to have to ask you to shut up now, Steve." I interrupted quickly, letting out a frustrated groan. Les and her big fucking mouth.

"Alright, alright," he laughed, "But I really do want to get to know you. You can trust me. How 'bout I tell you a bit about myself first?"

I stayed silent and allowed him to continue. Anything to try and let him forget that he was asking about my family. "Alright, I'll take that as a yes."

"So, I lived with my grandparents for a while when I was young. My mom sent us there because.. I dunno, actually. I guess she couldn't handle being a parent or something. I was a bad kid. Anyway, I met Slash in junior high school and we became friends quickly. I moved to L.A. with him and soon enough we found the rest of the guys. We all moved in together and here we are."

I still didn't say anything, only letting out a deep breath. "Oh, right," he continued without hesitation, "Uh, I don't know how to play the guitar, so I don't have a favorite song to play. I think centipedes are fucking disgusting. I always head straight for the dessert at a buffet, I'm a pudding kind of guy. And last, I have this one white knitted shirt that my grandma made me. It's a little torn up, but it's my favorite for sure."

He sure liked to talk a lot. "Wow, really just laid it all out for me, huh?" I chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess. I'm an open book. So, what about you?"

"Well, I moved out a year ago with Les and we got a place together. I work at a record store and read a little bit. I prefer drugs over drinking and I have a total 6 friends, the band included." I stated. Hopefully the simple and bland summary was enough to satisfy him. He was silent for a moment, causing me to lookin up and see him eyeing me expectantly, "The juicy questions?"

"Uh.. I like playing Walk On The Wild Side by Lou Reed on the guitar, it's my dad's favorite. I think ladybugs are pretty freaky. The first thing I put on my plate at a buffet is probably.. anything with olives. And my favorite shirt is one I took from my dad. I think he thinks it's lost." I laughed a little at the thought. I remember him always pestering me, 'Jimmie, where's my shirt? I might have lost it in the wash!'