I'm Gonna Be Famous One Day (3)

I sat in my science class fiddling with my pencil, trying to flip it over the back of my fingers the way people do drumsticks in concerts. The beautiful boy was running through my mind and simply wasn't leaving me alone. I thought of that stupid pick up line, "Do your legs hurt? 'Cause you been running through my mind all day."
I shrugged visibly. I did not like this boy. I couldn't even remember his name. I'd only talked to him a couple times. All he was, was a pretty face. Don't lie to yourself, Jenny, I told myself. You know you do, you know you will. He's just beautiful enough, just got hair long enough, to make you happy. And then it was settled.
The boy named for Jimmy Page was my new boy. He started sitting with me at lunch, I started leaving Sarah to sit with him. He was so nice. He talked about everything. For a guy who seemed so starkly quiet, he opened up to me.
I learned about his family, about his guitar playing skills, about his friends (one of which sat with us, a girl named Iva). I felt special. I wasn't used to talking about serious things with other people. I wasn't used to someone remembering what I'd said the day before. He welcomed my conversation, he welcomed me.
"Do you play anything else besides guitar?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't say it...
"Drums and bass, kinda. I'm working on bass a lot." Too late, he plays bass. Bass is my favorite instrument. And he was no doubt playing it perfectly already. He saw the jealous look on my face.
"You like bass, don't you?" he asked cockily. Oh rub it in, Pretty Boy. He was so carelessly put together, perfect without trying.
"Bass is my favorite." He looked at my hands as he tilted his head. His curls bounced cutely.
"I don't think you have the fingers for it," he claimed. "Basses have four strings but they're much thicker than a guitar's are. They're really hard to press. Your fingers are thin and shorter. It's probably not the best instrument for you to play." I was disappointed.
"Well... I'll leave the playing to you." He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth.
"You can always try though. You never know." Then I smiled.
Then I changed the subject. "Is playing guitar what you want to do?"
He raised his thick eyebrows. "What do you mean?" I could tell he knew though.
"As a career. When you grow up."
"Guitar's really my only option. I love playing it. And I'm not all that good at school work." I nodded. "Besides, I want to be famous." That was when it clicked. The reason I liked him was because I saw in him the same desires that I had.
"Me too." I agreed completely.
"You want to be famous?" he asked, light green eyes inquiring. I nodded again. "What for?"
"For being an actress. I love acting," I confessed. I'd never told him my dreams before, in fact I'd never really told anyone else either.
"Well, why do you want to be famous?"
"Because I want people to know who I am. I want to sign autographs. I want it all. I want people to scream my name."
"I want to do it to play guitar... nothing more, nothing less. If I'm famous, I can have money, be well off." He was worried about money? He didn't want fans? "I'm not doing it to be famous, persay. I'm doing it to say I've done it. To say I've played in front of a packed stadium, to say I recorded an album. You know?"
And I did know. I knew exactly what he was saying. "I want to say I was in a movie. So yeah, I definitely know."
"Then you're the only person who does." Again the bell rung, disturbing a wonderful conversation between me and the beautiful boy. "Bye Jenny," he whispered, getting up and slinging his bookbag on, a movement I've memorized.
"Bye James," I said. I just remembered his name! I was surprised at myself. So was he.
"Glad I'm not 'Pretty Boy' anymore." He winked.