Chapter 38

"This guitar should have a name."

My eyes stared at the thick hand that took the snack out of his bag. He is bowing down and is so determined to get the guitar pick to line up on the table. There were so many types of picks: thick and thin one. I don't know how the makers produced this kind of stuff. All I know is that he is ignoring me.

"Are you listening?"

"What?" His sharp face looked at me.

I felt like I interrupted his screening of picks

with meticulousness. I am not happy about that.

The two of us sat under a shade of a tree at the marble table. Both his gang and mine went out to buy food and haven't returned yet. What's left is just me and this crazy bastard who is too busy with his guitar picks. The club is getting busy because of the Music Festival next semester.

"This guitar is mine now so I should name it."

"Moron."

But when he saw my bent face, Nathaniel rolled his eyes then looked up at the sky as if he was thinking for a bit.

"What kind of name do you want?"

"I want a na