The James Agenda

The air in my bedroom, usually smelling faintly of lavender and old books, was thick with the scent of pepperoni and melted cheese. Katie and I had demolished the pizza box like two hungry wolves, leaving only a greasy scattering of crusts and a profound sense of contentment. The movie, a cheesy rom-com about a baker who falls for a prince, had played out on the screen, but honestly, neither of us had been paying all that much attention. It was more of a soundtrack to our giggles and whispered comments.

“Can you believe he actually said that?” Katie snorted, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, ‘my heart is a delicate snowflake’? Ugh.”

I nodded, my eyes drifting towards the ceiling fan, its blades lazily slicing through the humid air. “So dramatic. But I guess that’s kind of what makes him… you know.”