A/N: Hey y'all. So, yeah, I don't own anything you recognize. That belongs to J.K. Rowling and the lyrics are to "Austin" sung by Blake Shelton. I do not own them either.
Please note, I did not steal this story or the idea from anyone. It was previously posted on my former screen name on this site (ceseabug). I haven't really used that name in a long time and have decided to consolidate all of my stories to one account.
To all those who favorite, alerted and reviewed before, I do appreciate all of it and can't wait to see what type of response it gets this time around. Thanks!
"Hey, James, are you coming?" Sirius asked his best friend impatiently, one hand already on the door knob, ready to walk out into the warm July evening. The summer sun was setting and, slowly, much more slowly than should be allowed, the air was cooling down from the stifling heat of the afternoon.
"Yeah, one second." He watched as James glanced at the small, dark framed picture of a beautiful red-headed woman in a simple baby blue sundress that was sitting on the oak side table by the old, pink painted rotary phone he bought when James first moved out on his own as a joke, the newish caller ID box, and the scratched up answering machine that had been knocked off the table so many times it was on its third reincarnation, and then pushed the faded red record button on said answering machine.
"Hey, it's James. I'm not home. I'm headed to the reunion tonight, if that's what you're calling about, I will see you there. If you're calling about piano lessons, I have three slots left times vary. If you're calling for Sirius, he's with me. If you're selling something, just hang up, I'm not interested and I'm not buying. If it's anything else, you know what to do, leave a message at the beep." He paused and took a deep breath. Sirius knew what was coming next and suppressed a sigh of his own. "P.S., if this is Angel, I still love you," he added as he had to every message he had recorded since she had left in hopes that she would one day call. He did this despite the ribbing he got from his friends, his family, his co-workers, and the girls that he knew were interested in him. Sirius fielded a lot of questions for his friend and knew he wasn't the only one exasperated by the ritual.
"Are you ever going to get over her? It's been a year," Sirius asked kindly, allowing only a minimum amount of frustration to creep into his voice. Despite it all, he couldn't understand why James was still torn up over this girl. And yet, he couldn't help but support his best friend, practically his brother, with everything he chose to do even if he didn't agree with it.
"One year, four months, and twenty-six days," James corrected automatically. He told himself this every morning since she left. Sirius had asked him once why he did this and now knew that James was afraid he would forget about her if he didn't remind himself about her and the good times that they had had all through school and after.
"Come on," Sirius sighed knowing that he wasn't going to win that battle tonight. "We're going to be late."
"Lily, you can only stare at the phone for so long," a curvy brunette told the thin, toned, redhead who was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen table in a pair of plaid blue pajama pants and an old grey tank top. "Just call."
"His number has probably changed," Lily told her friend, discouragement coloring her tone.
"It never hurts to try," the curvy girl insisted as she put her dangley silver earrings in the bottom piercings of her ears.
"Alice…"
"I'm going to head off to work. You do what you feel is best." Alice hugged her best friend of twelve years tightly. "It's been five months since you came back. Just do it."
Lily nodded but didn't move as Alice left their apartment. She continued to stare at the phone for another twenty minutes, the only sounds those of the faint traffic that occasionally passed by on their residential street that filtered through the open window up to their 7th floor apartment, and the ticking of the large, ornate wall clock behind her that covered nearly a third of the wall.
Finally, Lily gathered up her courage and quickly picked up the phone, dialing a phone number from memory without any hesitations, knowing that if she did have another doubt or hesitation, she would not be able to make the call.
The phone rang three times. "Hey, it's James," she heard a man's voice say. Her stomach flip-flopped as she listened to his answering machine, a small, goofy grin building on her face. She was relieved that he hadn't changed his phone number. Relieved he still lived in the same area, if not house. "P.S., if this is Angel, I still love you." Lily dropped the phone at the last line of his message. It had been almost a year and a half since she had taken off, heading back to Ireland to be with her family. What kind of man was he? Why was he still holding on? How much did he love her? Her heart sped up as she realized he had used the nickname that he had given her during their sixth year at school. Nobody ever called her 'Angel' except for him. She hastily hung up the phone, hoping that he couldn't hear the crash of her dropping it.
James pressed play on his answering machine. There were only two new messages, both from his mother reminding him about the family reunion on Sunday that he was planning on ditching as long as he could come up with some excuse to do something else. If needed he would make up an excuse then force Sirius to follow through with him on it. Without fail, his aunts or mother (or both) would be bringing girls to try and set him up with, but he just was not ready yet, no matter how nice the girls were.
He quickly made a mental note to ask Sirius if he was up for a surf trip this weekend. It would make a valid excuse to not be there and it was definitely better to be safe than sorry when it came to his overbearing family. Besides that, there were supposed to be some good waves just off the Australian coast this weekend, near where they usually rented a little shack every summer for a few weekends, if he remembered correctly. And it would be good to get away, even just for that short amount of time.
He picked up the phone and glanced at the Caller ID. It registered 5 calls, two of which were his mother's, two were unlisted numbers, telemarketers he presumed, and a third was another number that he didn't recognize. James quickly brushed off this last number, presuming it was one of Sirius's many girlfriends, or former girlfriends looking for him for a quick hookup.
He sighed. Though it was irrational, he still wished that one of those calls had been his Angel. He knew in his head that he should move on, but he had been crazy about her since he was eleven and had first seen the preppy little girl in Diagon Alley, buying books and supplies for their upcoming first year at Hogwarts. She had looked so lost, being a Muggle-born, so he had walked around with her and both of their parents all day, just exploring and having fun, answering all the questions that she asked him to the best of his abilities (though his mother did have to correct many of the things he said).
In his defense though, they had been together for six years, since they were sixteen, and had been living together from within a month after graduation until she had suddenly left. In her defense, he should have expected her to leave. She had been talking about returning to Ireland to be with her family for a few months before she actually disappeared one day while he had been at work.
Three days later, Lily was again in her familiar position on the kitchen table, this time in loose black track pants and an oversized blue sweatshirt that she had stolen from her boyfriend during their seventh year and final year at school. Alice came out of her bedroom on the right side of the hall, just across from Lily's, putting in gold hoop earrings, dressed in a knee length, flirty red halter dress that fit her perfectly. "Lily, what did I tell you?" Alice asked exasperated with her best friend.
"To 'just call him,'" Lily admitted reluctantly still not changing her position on the wooden table top. She hadn't told Alice about calling and getting the answering machine the other night so the other girl had been on her back each day to just call.
"So listen to me already! I'm usually right. Now, I have a date with Frank tonight. I'll be home late, so don't wait up." She wrapped a light silk shawl around her shoulders, the same golden color as her four inch spike heels and earrings. "Just call the boy already." She ordered just before she left, closing and locking the heavy front door behind her.
Again it took the twenty-three year old redhead nearly twenty minutes to gather up the courage to pick up the phone. Once she had and had dialed the familiar number, she heard the same man's voice, after three rings. "Hey, you've reached James. If it's Friday night, I'm at the Quidditch game. If it's Saturday, I'm at the beach with Sirius. I'll be back Sunday night and will return your call then. You know what do to at the tone if you want that call. P.S., if this is Angel, I still love you."
Lily's breath caught in her throat as a tone sounded on the phone. She forced out their phone number quickly before hanging up immediately. She took a deep breath. It had taken more out of her than she thought to leave the message after calling the boy she still loved with all her heart. She had a feeling that the weekend was going to drag on.
James leaned his surf board against the wall and pushed the play button on his answering machine. "You have six unheard messages," the familiar recorded voice told him. "First unheard message." The machine switched voices. "Hey, it's Moony, give me a call." James deleted the message from one of his long time best friends, making a mental note to call him back the next morning. He had a feeling that he knew what the call was about and wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it to their monthly gathering that month.
"James, I have tickets for this Sat-" The second message began before James deleted that message from one of his co-workers at the Ministry without finishing it, knowing that the game the tickets were for had already happened the previous evening.
"Okay, you're not there," another male voice, though this one was about an octave higher than any of the others squeaked. He deleted it with a roll of his eyes. It was from Peter, the fourth member of their group from school. He had been calling more and more frequently lately, with more and more vague excuses for why he couldn't join them or wanting them to do the most ridiculous things for him at the most inopportune moments. The last one had been to help him search for one of his old school books on a Friday night the week previous.
"James, I need to cancel for this Monday, a family emergency has come up," he heard the voice of one of his student's mother say before he deleted that message with a roll of his eyes. She was always calling to cancel her son's piano lesson for the week, only to show up anyway and ask for the lesson. He was used to it by now and knew not to reschedule the lesson time.
"Jaime, it's your mother-," he cut that recording off as well before finishing it. He knew that she was just calling to remind him of the family reunion that he had ditched and had been ditching for the six years previous as well. Sitting around with a bunch of older people that he didn't know did not appeal to him, especially when they were trying to foist girls on him. His parents were both the youngest in their families by far and his closest cousin was a good twenty years older than him, not that they actually got along anyhow. At the last reunion, they had gotten in a fight over something that he couldn't remember anymore, it had been seven years after all, and James had ended up grounded from friends for a month with a black eye and a broken nose, though Alexander, his cousin, had ended up in a far worse state with a broken nose, a missing tooth, and a broken wrist, along with multiple bruises and cuts. Between the girls, fights, and gossip, he didn't want to deal with them…ever again if possible.
He was quiet as he listens to the sixth and final message. It was silent for about twelve seconds, and then he heard a breathless woman's voice. It was a voice that he would have recognized anywhere. The only thing the phone number said was a phone number, almost too quick to catch. He replayed the message, this time scribbling down the number with a blue marker on the back of his left hand. He vaguely recognized, with a twist of knots in his stomach, the number on his hand as the number that he had deleted from the Caller ID earlier in the week without returning the call.
The anxious raven haired man dropped his sandy, worn-out old red and gold duffel bag that he had had since his second year in school when he had joined the Quidditch team as Chaser to the ground and roughly picked up the phone, dialing the number on the back of his hand with trembling fingers. The energy and excitement flowing through his body caused him to make mistakes, dialing the wrong number the first three times, before he finally dialed the correct number.
His heart sank as the phone rang once, twice, and a third time with no answer, then he heard, "If you're calling about my heart, it's still yours. I should have listened to it a little more. Then it wouldn't have taken me so long to know where I belong. And, by the way, boy, this is no machine you're talking to. Can't you tell? This is Angel, and I still love you."
A large smile broke out across James' face. "I still love you," was all he could say.
