Forbid Me(4)

By: M. Robinson

Alex put up with way too much crap, from Lucas, from the boys, and from our families. I marched to the strings of my own guitar. If you didn’t like it, too bad. You know where you could go…

Well, I don’t want to brag or anything but I could sing and play the guitar like nobody’s business. My mom used to say that I came out singing. That I sang before I could even talk. It was my God-given talent. Music had always been an outlet for me, I could always express myself through lyrics. It was therapeutic for me to get lost in the symmetry of words and rhythm. I showed enough natural talent with a guitar that my parents put me in lessons by the time I was six. Now my guitar never left my side.

You could usually find me hanging out in my room playing and singing at any time of the day, especially during the summer.

“Hey, Kid.”


I beamed, looking up at him from my bed with my guitar in my lap.

“New tunes?”

I enthusiastically nodded. He always noticed when I played new songs, which is why I often tried to learn new ones.

“I like it.”

I smiled, big and wide, sweeping my hair behind my ears so he could see my face light up for him. He walked over to my desk and pulled out my chair to sit. I knew what he wanted. Jacob loved the classics like Jimmy Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Santana, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Rolling Stones, and Aerosmith. I had no idea who those people were, but I looked them up on my computer. I even bought music sheets with my allowance so I could play for him, begging my instructor to teach me how to play Jacob’s favorites. Some of them were complicated songs, but to his astonishment I picked them up quickly. It only motivated him to teach me faster.

He called me a prodigy.

This would help me tremendously in my future. I guess in a way Jacob shaped and molded me for the success I would have in the years to come, although I never thanked him for it. I played Black Magic Woman on my guitar, my fingers gliding over the strings as if they were an extension of my own body. Strumming the precise high and low pitched tones effortlessly, with the skill of an experienced guitarist way beyond my years, the intensity vibrating against my core. I lost myself in the music, exactly how I always did.

Becoming one with my guitar. Hitting the last verse, making the chord amplify into the slow progression of the ending of the song. I closed my eyes and swayed my head along with the rhythm, biting my lip when it was over and opening my eyes.

His eyes were dilated and his mouth wide open. “Damn... Lillian. You are so talented,” he breathed out when I finished.

I smiled again, big and wide. He called me Lillian!

“Hey, dickwad, what are you doing in here?” Lucas interrupted, much to my disappointment.

“Getting front row seats to the show of a lifetime.”

I love him.

“I know, she’s been playing that song for the last week. She’s getting good. Come on, the boys are in my room.”

“Where’s Half-pint?”


He nodded and Lucas left.

“Want to come?” Jacob asked.

“Nah. I’m going to practice some more.”

“Okay, play loud so I can hear from over there.”

I grinned. “Okay.”

He stood and rustled up my hair with his fingers, making me giggle before he left. I continued playing for a while, once again getting lost in the music, but the laughter from my brother’s room started to get the best of me. The curiosity to know what they were talking about had my feet moving of their own accord. Before I knew it, I stood outside Lucas’s door.

“Jesus Christ, you have no idea how fucking amazing it tastes, Lucas. Why haven’t you tried it with Stacey? You’ve already had sex with her,” Jacob questioned, as I hid further behind the wall to eavesdrop.

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