Starting From the Top (Starting from 5)

“Is this right?”

“Mmhmm.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, thoughtfully observing his stiff spine and tight jaw. After a moment, I folded my arms atop my instrument and looked around the room. I spotted a Star Wars puzzle and a set of action figures neatly lined on a shelf near the TV. “You like Star Wars?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Have you seen all the movies?”

“Yeah. Have you?”

“All except for the last one.”

Parker shrugged. “It’s good.”

“What else are you into?” I prodded.

He frowned. “Um…I don’t know.”

Teenagers.

“Do you play video games?”

“Yeah.”

“Hit me.” I propped my guitar against the coffee table, then grabbed one of the controllers, tossing the other to him. “Did you get PS5 for Christmas? If you say yes, I’ll be extremely jealous but also very happy to finally get to try it out.”

He lowered his head, hiding his face from view. “No, I…I asked for it f-for m-my birthd-day. It’s next week. I might g-get it. I d-don’t know.”

Oh. Okay.

I sucked in a deep breath. I was so fucking out of my element, it wasn’t even funny. But I had to try. “Happy Almost Birthday. Thirteen?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Let’s play video games. You’ll probably kick my ass—excuse me, my butt. I’m a little rusty. And my collection isn’t what it used to be. I tend to get really into one game and play it to death. I do that with music sometimes too.” I cracked my knuckles and fell sideways onto the sofa. “What d’ya got?”

“Uh…we’re supposed to p-play guitar. That’s what m-my dad wants.”

“Well, that’s not really how it works. Look, I can teach you a couple of chords and maybe even get you started on a song, but the second I walk out of here, you’ll forget,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Why? Aren’t you a good teacher?” Parker’s teasing intonation made it clear he was joking, but he followed it up with an immediate apology and kind of ruined the moment.

“I’m fuckin’—” I winced. “I mean, I’m a very good teacher. I used to be anyway. I haven’t taught in a while.”

“ ’Cause you’re a rock star?”

“Yeah, can’t you tell?” I asked with a self-deprecating chuckle.

He didn’t laugh, but he didn’t look away. “Not really. I-I don’t listen to a lot of music on my own.”

“Hmm. So learning to play guitar wasn’t your idea.” It was a rhetorical statement. I didn’t need confirmation, but I wasn’t surprised when he shook his head.

“No, but it m-might be fun.”

I grinned. “That’s the spirit. The thing is…you’re too tense. So even though I think we could have fun learning a couple of chords, you’ll get more out of it if you relax. What games are you into right now?”

“Uh…Spider-Man and Avengers,” Parker replied quickly.

“Cool. Bring it.”

He glanced toward the doorway. “Are you sure? My d-dad might get mad at you.”

I snorted. “I can handle your dad. Let’s go with Avengers. Give me the basics. I’ve never played that one.”

Parker studied me for a moment before hopping off the sofa to set up the game console. We chose our characters—he was Thor, I was the Hulk—then he explained the rules. Five minutes later, we were in business.

And in that short amount of time, I learned a few things about Parker. First of all, he liked order and structure. His games were alphabetized and precisely lined up. Second, his stutter only popped up when he was nervous. If he was in the midst of doing or talking about something he enjoyed, it disappeared altogether. And last but not least, he was a competitive little fucker. I called uncle after he leveled me for the fifth time in a row.

He attempted to hide his smile…unsuccessfully…as he put the game away. “That wasn’t bad for a first try.”

“Dude, I sucked. That’s okay. I can live with it.” I propped my guitar on my lap and played the first few chords from a new Zero song. “I’m better at this. Want to learn a couple of things?”

Parker hesitated for a second. “Sure.”

I twisted to face him when he sat beside me. “Nope. You’re too tense. Roll your shoulders. Like this.”

I wiggled like a preschooler on a sugar high and gave myself a mental high five when he snickered. He gamely lulled his head from side to side and even cracked his knuckles. “I’m ready.”

“All right. You need to know some general anatomy. The guitar is shaped like a person in a way. This is the body”—I ran my hand along the sweeping curves of my instrument before pointing out the other parts—“and this is the bridge, the sound hole, the strings, the fret board, and the tuning pegs. Every time I pick up my guitar, I tune it. It’s a habit you have to get into if you intend to play ’cause an out-of-tune instrument will always sound bad.”

“But I don’t know how it’s supposed to sound.”