WHAT LIES BENEATH THE GRAVESTONE

chapter 16: Lost and left behind

The school day had faded into the past, like a watercolor painting left out in the rain, its colors bleeding into a soft, muted haze. Jamie and Zoey found themselves nestled on the bed in the cozy confines of Zoey's room, surrounded by the warm, golden glow of string lights and the comforting scent of fresh laundry.

The air was filled with the comfortable silence of two friends at ease in each other's company, like a pair of old shoes that fit perfectly, worn smooth by the passage of time. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional creak of the bedframe and the soft hum of Zoey's laptop, a gentle accompaniment to their quiet camaraderie.

"So, Jamie, Drake or Taylor Swift?" Zoey inquired, a playful challenge in her tone, like a dare thrown down by a friend who knew exactly which buttons to press. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, like a firefly dancing in the darkness.

"Taylor Swift," Jamie responded without hesitation, his voice firm, like a flag planted on conquered territory. Zoey's laughter filled the room, light and teasing, like a sprinkle of fairy dust on a moonbeam.

"You like Taylor Swift?" she asked, an eyebrow raised in mock surprise, like a skeptical scientist examining a peculiar specimen. Her tone was playful, but her eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity, a desire to understand the intricacies of Jamie's musical tastes.

The question hung in the air, like a challenge thrown down, waiting for Jamie to defend his choice, to explain the inexplicable, to justify his love for the sugary sweet melodies and confessional lyrics of Taylor Swift.

"Don't you?" Jamie retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice, like a subtle tremor in a otherwise calm landscape. His eyes narrowed slightly, like a fortress preparing for siege, as if daring Zoey to challenge his musical tastes.

Zoey's smile softened, like a summer breeze on a warm day, gentle and soothing. "Well, I don't hate her, but I definitely prefer Drake's music," she admitted, her gaze lingering on Jamie, curious about his reaction, like a scientist studying a fascinating specimen.

Jamie's brow furrowed slightly, like a ripple on a serene lake, as he processed Zoey's response. "I thought you'd be more into Taylor Swift," he confessed, a tinge of confusion in his voice, like a traveler lost in unfamiliar terrain.

Zoey's expression turned thoughtful, like a masterpiece being carefully crafted, each brushstroke deliberate and precise. "So, you pretended to like Taylor Swift just because you thought I did?" she probed gently, trying to understand his perspective, like a gardener coaxing a delicate flower to bloom.

Jamie's nervousness was palpable, like a live wire humming with electricity, as he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "No, I actually like Taylor Swift," he insisted, his voice a mixture of earnestness and anxiety, like a tightrope walker balancing precariously between conviction and doubt.

His eyes locked onto Zoey's, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, seeking reassurance, seeking validation, seeking understanding. The air was thick with tension, like a held breath, as the two friends navigated the uncharted waters of their musical preferences.

Zoey reached out, her touch reassuring, like a gentle anchor in a stormy sea. Her hand enveloped Jamie's, a warm, comforting grasp that seemed to say, "I'm here for you, no matter what." "I like you already, Jamie," she said warmly, her sincerity clear, like a sunbeam breaking through the clouds on a cloudy day. "Not liking the same music wouldn't change that," she added, her voice a soothing melody that calmed Jamie's nerves.

Jamie's heart skipped a beat, like a stone skimming across a still pond, as he processed Zoey's words. "You like me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, like a secret shared between old friends.