Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

The Cuteness Scale

~George POV~

On the drive home from the presentation, I kept glancing at my phone in the passenger's seat. I wondered when it was too soon to message her. I could text her this evening, but it might mean that I would come off as a creep, or maybe too eager to speak with her. After all, she'd just broken up with that Samson bloke, and I knew that if anything were to happen romantically for her now, it would likely be a rebound. 

Playing devil's advocate for myself, I thought, Or maybe not; you barely know her after all.

Wanting to take this off my mind, I turned on the radio. The song, "I'll Be Home For Christmas," fills my ears. Now that Thanksgiving was over in America, they'd brought Christmas in full swing. I'd been getting ads for Christmas sales all month, and now, all over town, there were lights and wreaths found on nearly every building. 

It isn't like Christmas back home, but I have to admit that the Americans were at least enthusiastic about what they were doing here. 

I do miss home, and the festivities there. Knowing that I was going home for Christmas kept me going. I would get to see my parents and my siblings. Mum would make her famous hot chocolate, and all would be right in the world. 

I park in front of my apartment building, grabbing my cell phone off the passenger seat before I slide out of the car. When I enter the apartment, I can see my roommates relaxing on the couches. Ollie has got his reading glasses on, and a large book in his hand. Miguel is playing a game on his cell phone. Both barely glance up at me as I enter. 

Ollie mutters, "Hey, mate. How was it?"

Ollie is from Hertford too. We moved to Alabama together, since we were both looking for something a little different. However, Ollie has anxiety, so it means he struggles to do stuff on his own sometimes. I know he had really been hoping to go somewhere like New York or California, rather than Alabama. When he heard I was moving to America though, he jumped on board. Any excuse for something different.

"It was really good. Helpful, I think." I say, hanging up my coat, "Everly was there."

Ollie actually looks up at me now, "Everly?"

Miguel chuckles, and I think for probably the hundredth time that his Mexican accent makes his laugh sound way happier than any laugh I've ever heard, "You mean that chick that hit you with her car?"

"That's the one." I nod. 

Miguel snickers again, "That was the funniest story I have ever heard. Hands down. No competition."

"Well," Ollie says slowly, "How was she doing?"

I step into the kitchen to warm up a mug of tea, thinking before I answer, "She didn't look like she was doing great - I mean, she looked good, but not emotionally, you know. She looks tired."

"Sure, sure." Ollie nodded, before adding sarcastically, "Well, she hit you with her car, so you're good, close friends, right?"

"Well, I did get her number, so we'll see."

Miguel looks up in intrigue with both eyebrows on his wolfish face raised, "You got her number?"

"Did I stutter?"

Ollie grins, "You sly, old dog! Have you texted her yet?"