The idiocy of perfection

Chapter Ten: Keeping the streak going

I meant everything I said, I really did. Still, after two straight hours of hiding in my room running seems like it was a bad idea.

It's 10:07 but I need to apologize. I cautiously open the door and slink down the hall. I poke my head down the stairs, he must be in the basement.

I walk down the stairs and cross to the basement door. I wonder if I'm gonna intrude on something, I mean the door is closed.

I knock tentatively, "Taylor?" The question echoes through the door. I open it, James is at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey." I say, closing the door behind me and walking down the steps.

"Hey." he says a bit shakily. I bite my lip.

"I still meant what I said, but I'm sorry." I blurt out.

He furrows his brow, "For what? I made you uncomfortable, you left. What did you do wrong?" he asks quizzically.

I smile a bit, "You're a nice guy James but really, I'm sorry I ran out on you, you didn't deserve that."

He shakes his head, "I did, I went to far. What are you supposed to do after that?"

I reach him at the bottom of the steps and he takes a step back like I've given him a restraining order. Like he's given himself a restraining order.

"Talk to you about it, that's what I'm supposed to do. Not run away like a three-year-old." I respond, when I had run away I had been going insane but over the two hours I had gotten more and more embarrassed.

He looks like he's struggling, "I was wrong Taylor, Ok? We both meant what we said but I took it to far." He looks at me pleadingly.

I stand there for a second, he meant it. For some reason him saying that he meant it is as shocking as hearing it the first time.

"I've tried for so long to hate you." I whisper, taking a step towards him, "I really did. I succeeded for a while but lately I'm failing to." I stare at him, "Why? Why now? Have you always been like this, or is this new?"

"I've never hated you." he whispers delicately. He says it like he's confessing a secret that will change his life. "I never knew why you didn't like me, I wanted you to like me. Ever since we were seven."

I stare at him, "You were popular, you were always popular, even at seven. I hated that because everyone seemed to take it as a given that they would like you but people always thought I was weird."

He shakes his head, "I remember when you were little you had an accent, your parents were from New York weren't they?" He smiles.

"Yeah." I kinda smile a bit, I had a slight accent when I was little. I didn't think that was unusual but everyone else did. "Why?" I ask uncertainly.

"Just thinking, is that when you decided to hate me? When I was popular?" he asks.

I shrug, "It's easy to hate people who could've asked anyone for anything and gotten it."

He tilts his head, "Then why can't you hate me now?"

I shift, "Because you're nice, you're not asking for anything or making fun of me you're just being nice."

His smile disappears and he shakes his head, "Please don't, Taylor." he groans, walking back towards the coach.

I frown, "Don't what? Compliment you?" I'm angry again, I mean we're talking and he just decides I should stop talking.

"Don't get my hopes up! You don't like me, I'm not good for you, so don't make it hard. If you keep talking like this I'll take it to far again accept this time I won't be able to stop." he stares at me miserably. "And i'd never forgive myself for that."