In it for the culture? No, not really. But it was there, and it wasn’t something he wasn’t all that knowledgeable about. He’d look into it. He had a whole summer, anyway. He couldn’t spend all his time shagging girls and finding alcohol. He would, undoubtedly check out the Louvre and whatever else France had to offer in the way of world history. Part of him was innately curious, after all.
As for Bastien not liking England, well, James had his own ideas about that. “I think he’s just homesick,” he said after a beat, absently rubbing the tips of his calloused fingers together. He hoped Bastien wouldn’t mind his guitar playing at odd hours of the night. “I suppose you can’t really blame him, can you? I mean, he grew up in France and they moved when he was, what, ten? Culturally, he’s stuck somewhere in the middle, isn’t he? I mean, he’s raised on certain ideas in a very French family, and suddenly he’s transplanted into something totally different.” James, shrugged, realizing that he was probably talking too much on a subject that probably hadn’t begged much conversation. Leave it to him to take what should have been an innocent, teasing comment into something a thousand times more serious. “I don’t know. I can see why he wants to go back though.” He finished quickly, more or less cutting off his previous train of thought. Bastien didn’t really need him to explain anything for him.
He listened relatively quietly, shifting his position again to pull his knees closer to his chest. No, it wasn’t really ideal. But that’s what most people did in the muggle world, right? Before they went off to university, that summer in between was for making money. University was expensive, after all. And James didn’t know if internships paid. She was doing the smart thing, even if it wasn’t going gallivanting off in a different country for two months. He had no doubt that he’d be walking the odd job once he was done with school. Musicians weren’t exactly known for their wealth. At least not until after they’d made their record deal.
“You’ll be fine. And, knowing you, you’d be happier off doing your own thing than having to worry about what your parents think anyway.” James glanced sideways at her but quickly shifted his gaze. “And it’s only, what, two months? Yeah. You’ll be fine.” He turned more a genuine smile her way. “Just don’t get fired for being a smartarse, yeah?”