Count The Stars

eight

        The second my feet hit the pool tile, I could tell something was off with Adam. I could hear the music from his headphones pretty clearly, and his eyes were squeezed shut so tight it looked almost painful. He sat against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees.

        I stood uncomfortably far away from him and watched as he bobbed his head along to whatever song was playing. I lost track of time, and when one of his eyes popped open, I wasn't sure if it had been a few seconds or an hour.

        I felt the air around me start to thin, but Adam didn't seem to notice my wide, panicky eyes. "When did you get here?"

        I didn't respond.

        He patted the seat next to him and took out on of his earbuds. "This is a really good song."

        I sat down next to him and he scooted closer to me so our criss-crossed knees were nearly overlapping.

        "Sorry."

        "For what?"

        I thought about it for a second, then realised I didn't have a legitimate reason, just a feeling that I probably should. "I'm not sure. I just am."

        "Okay. Hey, did you get my note?"

        I grinned as I dug into my pocket and pulled out the folded up paper I'd gotten passed in the hallway a week before. "It was you?"

        He chuckled. "Of course. This right here," he pointed to the earbuds, "is Declan McKenna. One of my favourites."

        "He's good," I said, shouting a bit over the music.

        Adam nodded and went back to his head bobbing. He mouthed the words like it was his own song, and then when that song ended and another started, he knew the lyrics without missing a beat.

        "This is my favourite. Paracetamol," he told me. When he closed his eyes, I did too. I imagined the song playing out in front of me and put myself in the story, and I understood what he loved about music. It was like I wasn't myself for a second. I felt like the person the song was about, with different problems and a different life.

        When it ended, I opened my eyes and saw Adam smiling back at me.

        "You like it?"

        "Nope. It was awful."

        He laughed and pushed my shoulder playfully, and I laughed too. "Bullshit, Rosen."

        "Alright fine, it was really good."

        "Yes!" He cheered, pumping his fist in the air.

        "What's wrong?" I blurted out. His smile fell a bit and I felt a pang of guilt in my stomach for causing it to do so.

        Fucking hell. I shouldn't have asked

        "No, it's alright," he said. I bit my lip when I realised I accidentally said what I was thinking. I wondered how often I did that, but only for a second.

        "I just had a fight with my mum before she left on her business trip."

        "Oh."

        "Yeah... but then James heard it, which I really didn't want."

        "That's who you thought I was? The day we met?"