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I look at him,
Standing confidently on the stage with his deep red electric guitar held in his hands.
I watch intently as his fingers dance up and down the fret board in an intricate solo.
I smile as I remember the guy who was too shy to admit that he even played the guitar.
I watched him slowly but surely grow into the confident guitar player I see before me.
He’s so into the music that he forgets all about me sitting on a stool near the stage.
When he finishes the solo I humor him with abundant applause
He jokingly takes a bow.
He looks up and smiles at me.
I notice my heart skips a beat before speeding up and I think it’s about to burst.
My face flushes and my palms start to sweat,
My face is bright red and all I want to do is run and hide from my best friend.
“What?” he asks still grinning.
“Nothing.” I reply with a small nervous laugh.
I excused myself from the room and then sprinted to the bathroom.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror and I suddenly don’t recognize myself.
What’s wrong with me?
He’s my best friend
Watching him play guitar and smiling at him are nothing new.
This shouldn’t be a big deal.
The only thing new about this is my sweaty palms,
Beet red face,
And pounding heart.
I have no idea what these feelings are.
All I know is there is something about