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“Like… whole songs?”
“Yeah.”
“And you remember everything?!”
“Yeah.” He said it almost like,
Doesn’t everybody?
“Don’t you walk around coming up with words in your head for stuff you write later?”
“Not really, no. I’ll think about ideas for stories, but I don’t actually write out
sentences
or anything until I sit down.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sure it’s similar.”
I actually didn’t think it was similar at all. But I wasn’t actually in
awe
until the next few things he said.
I pointed at his head. “How many songs have you got bouncing around in there?”
He shrugged. “Dozens.”
“Dozens?!”
“Not dozens of finished songs or anything,” he said quickly. “A lot of it’s just basic tunes, maybe some chords or riffs I want to try out.”
“So how many
finished
songs do you have?”
“…ten?” he said modestly. “Fifteen?”
“A WHOLE ALBUM’S WORTH?!”
“They’re not all good enough to go on an album.”
“Are these definitely going on an album?” I asked, pointing at the computer.
“Maybe.”
“They should
totally
go on an album.”
“The rest of the band has to improve them, though.”
“Yeah, well… it’s still amazing.”
He blushed a little, which was adorable. “It’s nothing. Never mind, I didn’t bring you back here to brag.”
“Well, you
should
brag. I didn’t realize you were a genius. Not like this.”
Now he was blushing a lot. “I’m not a genius.”
“Yeah, whatever. Genius.”
I hip-checked him playfully. That made him blush scarlet.
“I think it’s time for dinner,” he said uncomfortably, like a teenage boy getting attention from a girl for the first time.
“I think it’s kind of early,” I teased him.
“What time is it?”
“A little after five. Dinner’s not till seven, right?”
“Oh.”
He really didn’t know what to do. I started to feel bad – like maybe I was being a little too flirty, a little too familiar – so I headed for the door. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Okay… call me when it gets close to seven.”
“Okay. Genius.”
“Hush,” he said, blushing again, as I closed the door.
