“When I agreed to hang out at your house and watch TV with you, dude, I didn’t sign up for the additional ‘listen to Andre strum out-of-tune chords on his guitar’ package,” Stanley Johnson said in an annoyed voice, turning up the volume on the TV to partially drown out the amateurish music coming from next to him. “So put that thing down and help me watch these Cops reruns.”
“I have music in my soul,” Andre Drummond replied ethereally, closing his eyes as his fingers moved across the fretboard.
“Man, no you don’t. You do not have music in your soul,” Stanley asserted. “And if you did, it wouldn’t come out sounding like that.”
Andre stopped strumming momentarily to glare at his teammate. “You don’t know what my soul sounds like. Besides, I just started playing guitar yesterday so my fingers might not have caught up to the music within me.”
“That’s cool and all, but could you at least not have a personal jam session while I’m trying to watch this dude get tased?” Stanley said. “And why the hell would you want to learn guitar anyway? None of the music you like even has acoustic guitar in it.”
Andre was feeling uneasy at this line of questioning. He had hoped that his easy-going answers would placate Stanley. “I told you, I just have this music inside me that needs to get out.”
Stanley rolled his eyes. “I know you don’t have emotions of that depth, so what’s the real reason?”
Taking a deep breath, Andre replied, “Okay. I’ll tell you. The reason I’m learning guitar is because I’m in love with this girl and I want to write a song for her so that she’ll love me back.” As he said this, he glanced at the shelf of Blu-Rays that was underneath his TV.
Stanley didn’t miss where this glance was aimed. He started to piece the information together when he noticed that the only Blu-Rays that Andre had were part of the iCarly complete series collection. “I have a bad feeling about where this is going.”
“I’m in love with Jennette McCurdy,” Andre stated simply, realizing there was no point in hiding his crush’s secret identity. “So I booked a flight out to Los Angeles in four days so I can impress her with my song and she can be my girlfriend again.”
“That’s not going to work.”
Andre was not dissuaded by Stanley’s blunt assessment. “Jennette wants a guy who she can connect with emotionally, not just a guy with a bunch of money. I have to show her that I have emotions and intelligence and creativity.”
“Whatever, you can do what you want, I’m not going to stop you,” Stanley said. “Maybe that makes me a bad friend, I don’t care.” When Andre resumed his guitar practice, the volume of the TV went up again, but now Andre had added singing to his performance.
Andre walked up to the front door of the house feeling, not self-conscious, but nervous that he would forget the words of the song he wrote. He knew that he would win Jennette’s heart back if she could listen to his heartfelt, romantic composition. He had never really figured out the guitar part of the song, nor the melody of the vocal line, but he had committed some chords to memory that would suffice. Besides, she would be charmed by his awkward musicianship and realize that she loved him just as much as he loved her.
He rang the doorbell and waited. When Jennette finally appeared in the doorway, Andre was ready to launch into his song without so much as greeting her. “♫ I love Jennette McCurdy, ♪” he wailed, arythmically strumming a mis-fingered G-chord. “♫ She is the girl for me. ♪” Then Andre switched to the only other chord he knew, a C-chord. “♫ She has very pretty hair / All I can do is stare. ♪”
Not noticing Jennette’s facial expression, which was somewhere between repulsion and embarrassment, Andre pressed on with his song, but as he went on, he lost his place on the fretboard and his practiced chords began to make less and less musical sense. “♫ Jennette please be my girlfriend / My love will never end, ♪” he crooned. “♫ Forever, you and me / I love Jennette McCurdy. ♪”
Jennette closed the door on Andre after this verse, but Andre interpreted this as the action of a woman too lovestruck to directly face the object of her desire, so he played the song to its conclusion. “♫ Andre loves Jennette, Oooooh / I know she loves me too ♪ / ♫ I want the world to see / I love Jennette McCurdy. ♪”
After a final loud strum for emphasis, Andre lowered the guitar and waited patiently at the door for Jennette to return, a smile on his face. He knew that she was probably just on the other side, weeping out of love and joy, so he called out, “I love you Jennette!”
He continued to stand there staring at the door, and even when he heard sirens behind him, he didn’t turn around. When the arresting officer knocked the guitar out of Andre’s hands and placed him in cuffs, he hardly reacted. “I love Jennette McCurdy,” he told the officer, smiling.
“I bet you do,” the officer responded, roughly escorting Andre to the waiting squad car.
“I love Jennette McCurdy.”