Study Buddies// BILLIE EILISH

twenty one

"How do you know my password?" I ask nervously, and for good reason...

She smirks devilishly, "I know my birthday, Cam, the question is how you did."

"Oh, uh," I let out a strangled chuckle and Billie laughs playfully as she opens her contact on my phone.

"So you did see my number on the letter," she inquires, showing me the contact I made.

"Yeahh," I let out.

"And you made a contact," she leans towards me a little.

"Yeah," I say again, losing a little breath from Billie's closeness.

"But you didn't text me," She says smirking a little, "I told you not to be scared."

"I wasn't!" I protested, letting out a tic that shakes my head, "See! And my tics agree!"

Billie shakes her own head, laughing a little at my silliness, "Okay, so tell me why you didn't text me."

I looked into her eyes and told the story, "Well, I was sitting there and I was gonna text you but then I didn't know what to send, and 'hey' felt dry considering everything I was feeling at the time. Also, I don't really like texting so I thought maybe I should just call you, but I was too sca-" I stop myself, "Oh."

Billie just chuckles as she looks back down at my phone, shooting a text to herself so she has my number.

When she hands it back to me, my phone is still on and I see what she sent, "Hey, Billie, I think you're really really hot."

I look back at her, an unamused look across my blushed face. 

"So where are we going?" I ask, "It's Saturday."

"I don't know, I might just blindfold you and drive you through the woods," she says in a serious tone.

I laugh awkwardly and respond, "Very funny, now where are we actually going?"

Billie then opens up the center console and fishes through it, pulling a out a long black piece of fabric, smirking as she waves it in front of my face.

I raise one eyebrow, trying desperately to act cool, although my whole body is freaking out. It's like a system overload in there. Blush rises to my cheeks no matter how much I try to suppress it, and Billie takes the blindfold in both hands.

"Turn around, so I can put this on you," she says.

I gladly take the opportunity to turn my face away from hers and turn my head to face out of the passenger side window.

I see the black strip in front of my eyes before it lands on them, blinding me. I feel Billie's hands behind my head, securing the silky fabric around my eyes. She removes her hands and I turn my head back to face forward, gay panic ensuing.

As I expect the car to start, or Billie to talk, or something, nothing happens. There is silence between us, and I have no idea what will happen next.

I then feel a little tug on the chain around my neck as Billie loops her finger inside of it, pulling me into her a little bit, "I see you found my little gift. It looks good on you."

My whole body lights on fire as I feel her breath on my lips and I try desperately not to make a sound, but alas, a whimper escapes my mouth. 

Billie releases me, chuckling a little bit, and I am not nearly as embarrassed as I could have been, knowing she has feelings for me.

Billie puts on some music and I have never heard any of the songs before. My music taste consists of whatever happens to be playing on the radio when I hop in the car. I didn't even realize a world of other music even existed. Each time a new song came on, I had no choice but to listen, my sight being occupied by a blindfold at the moment. 

I find myself really enjoying the music, more than I ever have before. She has a really good sound system, so whenever there is bass, I can feel it in my bones and each time, I feel a little bit of the knot of anxiety in my stomach disappearing. It's like the bass is shaking it out of me.

I'm okay with that.

I'm actually more than okay with that.

I feel my tense body relaxing as the music takes over my senses, completely wiping me of worry. I don't think I have felt this relaxed since... ever.

I soon feel what I hope to be Billie's hand crawling over my thigh, and resting in the hands on my lap, holding one. I am assured that it is Billie when I feel the coldness of her rings on the skin of my palm.

Whatever I wrote in that journal was completely true. I have no idea where we are, although presumably in some forest, and I feel the safest and most relaxed I have ever been, holding Billie's hand and feeling the bass of her music rattle my bones.

At the end of one song, it gets quiet and I take that as an opportunity to speak, "Aren't you an artist?" I ask.

As a new song begins, Billie turns down the music so she can respond, "Yes."

"Can we listen to your music?" I ask, excited to see another side of Billie.

She squeezes my hand a little bit, sending butterflies up my arms and into my stomach, "We have been."

I sit there in shock, my jaw dropped. I don't know what I expected, but I did not expect that angelic voice to be Billie's. Hers is so raspy and sexy, not light and silky.

I feel Billie's hand move from my own as she places it under my chin, softly lifting my jaw, closing my mouth, "What do you think?" she asks, resting her hand back in my own. She sounds a little hesitant, like she really cares about my opinion.

I find the words and say them, "It's beautiful. I have never enjoyed music so much in my life," I admit.

"Really?" She asks, rubbing her thumb up and down my knuckles.

"Seriously, Billie," I assure her, "and that's you singing?" I ask.

"Yes," She says, chuckling through the word in flattery.

"Dude, your voice is amazing, so much different than when you talk," I say.

"Better than my talking voice?" she asks, and I can practically feel her smirking but I ignore it, continuing to rave about her beautiful voice.

"No, your talking voice is sexy and raspy, and your singing voice is beautiful and, hmmm what's another word? Floaty? Nah, there's got to be a better one. Uhh, delicate! That's the word." I lift my finger and look up out the windshield, pretending I can actually see, to convey a revelation.

Billie giggles at how I think aloud, "I'll let it slide this time, but try not to call me delicate too much. It hurts my street-cred."

I just laugh and reach over to where I think the stereo must be, feeling around for the volume. I hit a button and Billie quickly removes my hand, "Girl! You got me looking stupid, turning on the hazards!" she exclaims.

I just shrug, "Sorry, I'm a street-cred wrecker, what can I say?"

Billie pushes my shoulder a little bit, turning up the volume for me and this time I listen, paying attention to Billie's delicate voice.

A/n:

If you didn't already know, I published 3 parts of a story called 'Patience' about a Deaf demigirl named Amanda.

Y'all, I'm writing a timed essay for my english final in like 45 minutes... and uh, all I do in that class is write fanfics so if anyone knows anything abt 'Cry the Beloved Country' please let me know😁