CHAPTER EIGHT - Loser

I went through my dresser, trying to find something to wear. "Would have been nice if you'd given me a hint about what we're doing, Clifford," I muttered to myself, finally deciding on the one summer dress I'd brought.

I was straightening my hem in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. "Hey, Elle!" Michael called.

I grabbed my phone and then opened the door. "Hey, Mikey," I said.

His eyes widened, and he stood there, staring at me in silence.

"Erm, so..." I said, shifting awkwardly.

"Uh, hi," he said. He had a guitar slung over his back. "Should we go?"

"Before we turn fifty, please," I said, and he nudged me, grinning.

"Hey, it's not my fault you look hot in a dress," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "You are so tasteless."

"And you're so hot."

Blushing, I shoved him. "So what do you have planned, Clifford?"

Michael raised an eyebrow at me. "Since when did you refer to me by my last name?"

"Since just now. Seriously, though, what do you have planned?"

"A surprise," he said, flashing me a crooked smile. "You like music, you said."

"I'm guessing the guitar has something to do with it."

Another smile. "You have guessed correctly."

We stopped under a tree, and he sat, patting the area next to him. "Sit," he said, grinning.

I eyed him warily. "I wore a dress to sit on the ground? I don't even like dresses!"

"And yet, you wore one out to meet me. Please just sit," he said, and sighing, I obliged.

He leaned over and pulled out a beautiful black acoustic. "Michael, it's beautiful," I said, running a finger over the glossy black surface in awe.

Michael smiled. "It's my baby," he said proudly. He played a few chords. "Do you know how to play?"

I shook my head. "No, but I wish."

He smiled wider. "Want me to teach you?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You? Teach me?"

He shrugged and said, "Well... yeah. I wanted to hang out with you, and I've also been meaning to start writing again."

"You write music?"

"Here and there, with the rest of the guys."

I pulled my fingers away from the guitar. "Play one for me."

Michael glanced at me. "Don't laugh, I'm not very good," he said.

"I bet you're lying."

He grinned. "Would you rather I say I'm amazing at it?"

I bumped him with my shoulder. "Just play."

Michael took a deep breath and began to play.

Even even the sky is falling down

Even even the earth is crumbling 'round my feet

Even when we try to say goodbye

You could cut the tension with a knife in here

Michael's voice was mesmerizing. He kept his face bowed, focused on the guitar as he sang, his voice beautifully uncertain.

"You're amazing," I whispered, and he abruptly stopped.

"Luke's a better singer," he said, but he was smiling.

"You four should start a band."

"Yeah, maybe, when we get out of here... it's not like we got an education here or anything."

I smiled. "Seriously. Start a band!"

Michael grinned. "That'd be awesome."

"What would you call yourselves?"

Michael pursed his lips. "Something lame, probably," he said, and I laughed.

Abruptly, Michael's hand dropped from the neck of the guitar and grabbed mine. "Elle, listen to me."

I swallowed hard. "I'm listening."

He stared into my eyes. "God, okay, right. I don't want you to keep questioning me. I'll do whatever I have to in order to convince you I'm not trying to get close to you to sleep with you. Do I want to? I'm not going to lie about that. But that's not why I want to be friends with you. I want-"

I cut him off with a kiss.

Michael's eyes widened before sliding shut, and his hand dropped mine and moved up to hold my face.

A moment later, I pulled away. "Okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

I grinned. "Okay, I won't question you."

Michael's lips curved up into a delicious smile. "You won't?"

I shook my head. "Probably not."

He pouted. "Probably."

"I'm just saying-"

"What did Kat tell you?"

I made a face at the memory. "Kat said that you went into our cabin and tried to hook up with her."

"WHAT?" Michael's face was filled with fury.

"That's what she said. And she's a pretty good actress, I guess," I said, shrugging.

Michael closed his eyes and took deep breaths, in and out, in and out. "So what did Styles say?"

"Harry?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"He said..." I trailed off. "He doesn't think you're good for me."

He snorted. "Who am I good for?" he asked rhetorically, opening his eyes. "So, I'm going to teach you how to play guitar.

Surprised by the sharp subject change, I said, "Uh, what?"

"Guitar. I'm going to teach you. See, the guitar had six strings. They go from thicker to thinner, see? The spaces between these bars, these are frets-"

"Frats? Like frat boy?"

Michael laughed. "Fret. With an e. But whatever helps you remember it."

Michael and I sat under the tree, and he taught me, adjusting my fingers and helping me learn until I could successfully play a couple of chords.

"Hey, nice!" Michael said when I finished playing a simple chord progression.

I laughed. "Nothing compared to what you do," I said, smiling.

He grinned. "Years of practice."

"Excuse me, could I take Elle for a moment?"

Michael and I both looked up to see Harry standing there. He didn't exactly look angry, but he definitely didn't look pleased to see us there.

"Erm, yeah," Michael said, taking the guitar from me and abruptly scooting away. "Come back soon."

"Not your decision," Harry muttered under his breath, and Michael rolled his eyes.

Uncomfortable, I stood up. "Where are we going, Harry?"

"Just around the corner here," he said lightly, leading me around to the side of a building, out of Michael's hearing range. I heard him plucking on the guitar lightly.

Harry sighed, leaning against the building. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he said, and I shrugged, looking down at my feet.

"And for this morning," he continued, his voice sheepish. I looked up and saw that he was offering an apologetic smile. "Still friends?"

"So I can be friends with both of you?" I confirmed, and he laughed.

"That was stupid of me to say," he said, sighing. "But just try to understand. Michael stole the last girl I really liked, I don't want him to do it again."

I raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

He shrugged. "I know we just met but... you're not like any of the other people here."

"What am I like?"

Harry shrugged. "Like... like..." he stammered, struggling for words.

I knew what he was trying to say. "I'm like Lois."

He bit his lip. "Please don't take it the wrong way. I'm not trying to get a replacement Lois, trust me. But I really liked Lois. And..."

I nodded. "Got it."

He sighed. "So..."

I frowned. "I don't know yet, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I just wanted to clear that up cos... I really do like you. Just as a person in general. This place is filled with messed up people, you know?"

"I'm one of them," I told him.

He shrugged. "That doesn't matter to me. I just... yeah. Okay. I'll see ya," he said, waving and giving me half a smile and walking off.

I watched him walk. "Oh god," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. "Oh man, what am I doing with myself?"

I walked back over to Michael, who was strumming lightly on the guitar and humming to himself. He heard me coming and stopped, looking up at me. "Hey, Elle. Everything alright?"

I nodded, sitting down next to him. "Absolutely dandy."

I couldn't have told a bigger lie if I'd tried.

"You want to practice some more?" he asked, holding out the guitar.

I shook my head. "No, I'd rather have you play for me."

He grinned. "With pleasure."

We spent the rest of the morning sitting together, under the tree, Michael playing songs, sometimes singing softly.

Now I knew what he meant when he said he'd wanted to kiss me.

"You're so good," I complimented him as the bell for lunch rang.

Michael shrugged. "I try." He took a deep breath. "I want to... Try.... try... us."

"Us?" I asked.

"Us."

"Us," I repeated.

Michael nodded, staring at me. "Us."

I smiled. "I'd like that."

We must have been insane. We'd known each other for all of three days, and we were here.

But it didn't feel wrong or rushed. It felt...

"Perfect," he said, grinning widely.

This wasn't real. This stuff happened in movies, or in books. This was something from a fanfic. Not real life.

He took my hand, and I knew it was right.

"Give us a chance. You might like it," Michael said, repeating what I'd said to him before.

I grinned. "You're a loser."

He grinned back. "I'm your loser."

[A/N MELLE FOR THE WIN! Photo is Michael when he's teaching Elle guitar]