Blame Gravity

Chapter 14

I wake up earlier than James, and I quickly get changed and go downstairs. 

I want to forget about this. I know I won't, but I'll try my best.

After breakfast, Mr. Simmons tells us we don't have a program today, and that we can just relax in our room, maybe do some homework, etc., etc.

So James and I go up to our room and grab our phones. I scroll on Pinterest, and I have no fucking idea what he's doing. I don't care, either.

After a few minutes, I decide to put on some music. I go to Spotify and start Betty by Taylor Swift. God, I love that woman and all her songs.

James looks at me for a few seconds, confused, then yells "Turn it off!"

"No!" I say, stubborn. 

He walks up to me and tries to take my phone out of my hand, but I don't let him. Finally, he gives up, fixes his hair, and goes back to where he sat in the beginning.

After a few seconds, he asks: "What is this song called?"

I smirk. "Betty."

"Who's the artist?"

"Taylor Swift."

He snorts.

"What?" I ask, eyebrows raised.

"You listen to Taylor Swift?" He looks at me, grinning.

"Yes. Something wrong with that?" 

"No, it's just kinda basic." We make intense eye contact. 

"Yes, well, I bet you listen to rap and BoyWithUke, or whatever." I start the next song, which is New Year's Day.

"I don't, actually." He makes a slightly surprised face and turns back to his phone.

"Then what do you listen to?"

He looks up. "Want me to show you?"

"Yeah, sure."

He sits down on the bed next to me and starts his playlist.

Most of the songs are either from Chase Atlantic, Arctic Monkeys, or the Neighborhood. It's terribly chill, and I can't help but absolutely get lost in the music.

"You like these songs?" he asks.

"I mean, they're not that underground, y'know," I say, and I grab his phone out of his hand. 

Cage the Elephant, Oasis, even more Chase Atlantic, a bit of Shawn Mendes, and some Lana Del Rey.

"I've gotta admit it, you have awesome taste," I scroll down the playlist. I then notice a Justin Bieber song, and I can't help but burst out laughing. "I take it back, I have lost my faith in you, Miller," I say.

His cheeks turn a bright pink and he grabs his phone out of my hand. "I had a phase, okay," he explains, but I can't stop laughing. At that, he smiles a bit, but he quickly looks away and turns serious.

"Nevermind. It's impossible to do things like this with you." He walks over to the floor and slumps down. 

"No, wait!" I sit down next to him. "Sorry for laughing. It's just, I mean... Justin Bieber."  I take a quick glance at his phone. "And, hey, at least it's a collab, not just him suffering in front of the microphone."

"I hate that song. But Maud loves it and always yells at me when I want to take it off the playlist." At that, we stay quiet, and we look away. He clears his throat. "Anyways, what about you? What kind of music do you listen to besides Blondie?"

I bark out a laugh and then take a deep breath. Finally, I say "Beach Bunny, Queen, the Beatles."

"Ah, there's an interesting combination."

"That's what your parents said when they first looked at your face," I spit, and turn away. 

"Are you offended, Canmore?" he smirks and lifts my chin so that I look him directly in the eye.

"Of course not, little Belieber," I say, but it turns into a whisper when I look at his lips. Fuck, no. Not doing this again. I look away, my cheeks burning, and he takes his hand away. 

We stay silent for a few moments, sitting next to each other on the floor, incapable of looking the other in the eye.

I sigh, stand up, walk over to the bed and slump down on it. I carefully cross my ankles, and I look out the window. The sun is shining, reflected on the windows of houses close to the motel, everything glowing and blinding me as I look at it. The trees on the sidewalks are an almost unnatural shade of green, and it looks like a mid-20th-century painted picture.  It's mesmerizing. 

I notice James looking at me, and when I return his glance, he slightly blushes and averts his eyes. I raise my eyebrows and look back at the view. 

"Y'know, the girl that Betty is about is dating a guy named James," I whisper.

"Yeah?" he smiles.

"Yeah. He was a cheating bastard, though." As it slips out of my mouth, I realize I shouldn't have said that. "Sorry," I mumble.

We stay silent for about half an hour, and I finally stand up and hesitate for a moment. Then, I sit down next to him again. I put my arms around my knees.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. 

He looks at me, surprised. "For what?"

"For all of this. It's... it's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you that day."

He looks away and fixes his hair. "You really shouldn't have."

I nod.

"I wanted to make the first move," James says.  

I look at him, shocked. "What?"

He laughs. "You're really damn attractive, you know that? I don't understand how Mike doesn't rip your clothes off you every time he sees you."

I feel my cheeks heat and smack him on the head. "Shut up! Stop joking around."

"Who said I was joking?" He studies me for a moment, then looks away again. 

"Besides Mike, no one has ever asked me out, and I'm pretty sure you're the only person who has ever wanted to... you know." I look at the shitty painting on the wall.

"Oh no, plenty of people have. Believe me." 

"Why should I?"

He looks at me. "Most of the guys have wanted to date you at some point, they were just too intimidated." He looks away.

"Why would they be intimidated?" I frown, offended.

He chuckles. "Is that a serious question?"

"Yes."

"You're fucking terrifying."

I freeze for a moment. "And why is that?"

"Many reasons. Most of which is that you look like the type of girl you shouldn't mess with."

"Well, they shouldn't."

"They got the message, trust me."

We stay silent, and a few hours later,  Mr. Simmons calls us to have lunch.