somewhere || George Russell

thirteen

November 20, 2019
New York City, New York

"Am I going to get my hair and nails done?" George teased at Laurel, with a small grin on his face while heading to the headquarters of the New York Magazine for Laurel's photoshoot.

"Very funny," she sarcastically said. "My sister is joining me for this photoshoot. Thanks for driving me, though," she nodded.

When Laurel was about to ask one of the chauffeurs from the hotel to drive her to her photoshoot, George politely offer to do it himself, that way he could accomplish what he came here for: get to know her better, and well, see if they are mentally compatible. Laurel is so recherché.

"Oh, it's fine, I have nothing else to do," he chuckled, putting his thoughts aside.

Laurel connected her cellphone on the Bluetooth of her car and started to play some music.

"You can wait there, or pick me up later," she suggested. "Sorry for treating you like a chauffeur."

"No problem," he smiled. "Driving you to your appointments is better than staying alone in the hotel."

"I love that song," Laurel kind of ignored what George said and turned the volume on. "An angel's smile is what you sell, you promised me heaven then put me through hell."

"That's Bon Jovi," George smiled, looking at the street.     

"So what?" she turned her head to see him.

"I assumed you only liked Broadway music," he chuckled.

Laurel tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "Assumptions are usually wrong," she shook her head slowly. "Shot through the heart and you're to blame, you give love a bad name..."

"You see?" he said, "I don't even know what music you like, and you asked me to be your boyfriend."

"Fine, then not another word about that."

"I was kidding," he said, joking and put his hand on her thigh, without taking his eyes off the road.

"Don't touch me," she said pressed her lips to avoid smiling and unlocked her phone to pretend to do something.

"Love your fossil," George teased, hitting the break in the red light and taking her cellphone in his hands. "You know there are like two new iPhones, right?"

"I don't need them, I'm fine with this one," she snatched her red iPhone 8 plus back.

"Are you angry now?" he frowned, and the light went green again.

"No," she said curtly, but biting the inside of her cheek to avoid smiling. This is actually amusing.

"Those kinds of things are basic, and we need to know them."

"I disagree," she looked at him. "I find pointless to ask ourselves about our favorite things directly and make it an interrogatory, when we can learn all of that information empirically."

"Empirically? I don't think you are using that word correctly," he frowned.

"Yes," Laurel nodded. "Like right now when you found out I enjoy listening to a specific Bon Jovi song, but not because you asked me, it was because you noticed it and find it odd for me to like this kind of music."  

He said nothing, and only digested Laurel's words. Somehow, she is right. Is much more fun and entertaining to meet a person as you go and not make a list of questions about what you want to know about them.        

"You're right," he finally agreed when they arrived at the location. "It's more natural."

"I'm always right," she showed off, and he just chuckled. "Near here is Battery park, a couple of museums, Wall Street, the Statue of Liberty..."

"Hold on," he giggled, "that's why I came here for."

"Wall street and the statue of liberty?" she gave him a questioning look.

"And the Joker stairs," George remembered. Great tourist attraction.

"The what?" Laurel looked at him, raising an eyebrow and blinking a few times.

"Joker stairs," he repeated, with a goofy smile growing in his face. "The stairs where the movie was filmed. You saw Joker, didn't you?"

"I did," she nodded.

"Then you should cherish those stairs, they are emblematic and in your city."

"It's just stairs," she rolled her eyes.

"Stairs used in a movie," he wiggled his eyebrows. "A lot of people go to those stairs to take pictures."

"I don't have time for those childish antics," she muttered. George was perplexed. There has to be something wrong with her to be this skeptical. Laurel chuckled. "It was a wordplay, because the Joker is a clown," she explained and laughed slightly.

He laughed with her. "I get it now."

"I'm not bitter, okay? I went to Disney World every two weeks when I was a kid, I know how to have fun," she shrugged. George frowned, wanting a good explanation for that. "Orlando is an hour away from Miami."

"By car?" he asked, surprised. Yikes, it has to be cool to live just one hour away from the happiest place on earth.

"By plane," she replied.

"So, you took a plane every two weeks just to go to Disneyland? Rich people are so weird," he teased.

"No, we went to Disney World, its different," she corrected him and opened the door of the car. "And statistically, it is less likely to have a plane crash than a car crash."

He couldn't say no more because Laurel left the car and entered the building. He was perplexed once again, just thinking that Laurel is great. Is so beautiful and so smart, everything at the same time. But somehow, she is also different, special. One of a kind. Nothing like he had ever known before.

She may not be very good with words, but George is good at reading eyes, and he has noticed that her green eyes sparkle when they are together, they shrink when she laughs. She meant what she said yesterday at the Hudson River.