"Rose! Rose Tyler!" The blonde in question put on speed, hoping to get to her flat before her persistent classmate reached her, but once again, his long legs made up the distance between them far too easily.
Rose didn't even try to mask her sigh when James Noble fell into step beside her. "Come on, Rose, you don't even know what I'm going to say."
"Not exactly, I suppose." Rose switched her books to her left hand so she could unlock her door with her right. "But I'm willing to bet it starts with, 'Will you go with me to…'"
"Something like that," he admitted, shoving a hand into his already artfully ruffled hair.
"Then see, I was just trying to save us both time," Rose said brightly. "My answer is the same as it's been every other time. No." She closed the door in his face before he could argue.
"I don't know why you won't go with him at least once, Rose," Martha said without looking up from her thick biology text book.
Rose rolled her eyes. "If you're going to tell me again how we're perfect for each other, I'll just go to my room where I can study without any unwanted commentary on my love life."
"You don't have a love life," her roommate pointed out calmly.
"Not listening!" Rose glanced down the hall toward her room then detoured toward the kitchen first. "D'you want a cuppa?" she asked Martha as she filled the kettle.
"No, I'm fine. Look, we're going to the pub tonight. You should come."
"Can't. I need to study."
Rose felt the air shift as she spooned her favourite tea into the pot, and she knew her friend was standing behind her. "Seriously, what do you have against James Noble? That man hasn't looked at another woman since he laid eyes on you—and let me tell you, it isn't for lack of trying on their part. Remember last term in our early French lit class when—"
"When Renee walked in and just planted one on him?" Rose broke into giggles. "Oh, the look on his face."
"Can you believe she thought she was some reincarnated French aristocrat?" Martha cocked an eyebrow. "And he didn't even kiss her back. A gorgeous French woman just threw herself at him, and the only thing he cared about was making sure you knew she kissed him, and not the other way around. So tell me, why won't you even spend the evening at the pub with him as friends?"
The kettle went off and Rose took her time pouring water into the pot, selecting a cup from the cupboard, and putting the precise amount of milk and sugar in to make the perfect cuppa. As she'd known would happen, Martha lost patience before the process was over and left her alone to finish making her tea. Rose knew her friend meant well, but ever since she and Mickey had finally stopped dancing around their feelings, she'd gotten on the romance bandwagon.
It wasn't that she didn't like James, Rose told herself as she carried her tea back to her room, pausing to scoop her books up off the kitchen table. It was just that he never talked to her about anything but going out and the last thing Rose wanted was to be the centre of someone's universe.
The tea calmed her down a little, and she turned her laptop on to study. Her browser window was still open to Facebook, and she laughed when she saw the advert in the right panel. "The Unboyfriend. Friends pestering you about being single? Mum trying to hook you up with her friend's son? Sign up for an Unboyfriend and get all the benefit of a long distance boyfriend, but none of the commitment."
DWDWDWDWDW
Rose didn't laugh when the advert appeared again during half-term. James had asked her out for the fiftieth time, Martha had pressed her to just get to know him no fewer than three times, and her mum was still banging on about how she'd let a good thing go when she'd lost Mickey. The idea of a fake boyfriend had a lot of appeal—enough that after a moment's hesitation, she clicked the link.
She read carefully through the FAQs. It seemed pretty straightforward; once she signed up, she'd be matched with an Unboyfriend. The company would provide them both with email addresses specifically for communicating with each other, and a proxy mobile number that would forward text messages to their phones. All in all, they seemed to go out of their way to keep their clients' information confidential.
I can't believe I'm doing this, Rose thought as she started filling in her interests survey. She kept it as basic as she could, not really wanting to give away too much, but one line stopped her.
Preferred name.
It hadn't even occurred to Rose that she could give a fake name, that she could create some kind of distance between herself and her Unboyfriend. She stared at the line for several minutes, weighing the pros and cons. If the point of having a fake boyfriend was to convince Martha she was already seeing someone, she couldn't very well show her messages addressed to someone else. But…
Rose bit her lip and filled it in with the first name that came to her. Lily Evans. She smirked at her private little joke. Just like Lily Evans, she knew what it was like to be relentlessly pursued by a skinny bloke with messy hair named James.
DWDWDWDWDW
James stared up at his ceiling. Maybe if he focused on trying to find a pattern to the dots, he could forget the frustrated and annoyed look on Rose's face when she'd turned him down on Thursday. Jack had asked him once why he kept asking when she kept saying no, and he'd rambled on in eloquent fashion about how beautiful Rose Tyler's smile was and how he kept asking because he hoped one day, she'd smile at him that way.
"But today is not that day," he muttered, mimicking Aragorn's inflection in the words.
Vibrations under his back nearly sent James jumping off the bed, until he realised his phone had slipped between his back and the bed while he'd been reading. He fished around for it and tapped the email app.
.uk: You've been matched.
James gulped. He'd signed up on a dare, more or less. After watching him crash and burn with Rose for what was approximately the forty-fifth time, his flat mate had teased him into signing up as a boyfriend for the service. "Maybe pretending to be a boyfriend for a while will show you where you're going wrong."
The comment had stung, more than Jack knew. No one seemed to take his feelings for Rose seriously, except maybe Martha. She was clever and gorgeous and so kind, to everyone but him at least. The room lit up when Rose walked in, because she made people feel better about themselves just by showing up.
In a fit of pique, James had filled out the profile. And now he'd been matched with someone, and he remembered why he never did what Jack told him to do.
What if we have nothing in common and I can't find anything to talk to her about? What if we talk once and she hates me and asks the company to give her someone else? OR WORSE, what if she falls in love with me and I have to break her heart?
He shook all the possibilities from his mind and opened the email. Immediately, he knew his first concern was unfounded. Whatever her real name was, she'd asked to be called Lily Evans. With any luck, that meant she loved Harry Potter.
He scanned the email for "Lily's" contact information before remembering what his original registration email had said. "Initial contact will entirely at the discretion of the client. It doesn't happen often, but occasionally someone will register, only to regret it later."
Guess I'll just have to wait.
DWDWDWDWDW
Rose tapped her fingers against her mobile, trying to figure out what to say. The site had assured her that "John Smith" had her information, but how exactly did you start texting with a bloke who was pretending to be your boyfriend? She finally settled on the obvious: Hi, this is Lily.
Her phone buzzed a minute later, and even though she'd been staring at it, hoping to get a reply, she still squealed and dropped it on the floor. "Rose? You all right in there?" her mum called from the living room.
"I'm fine, Mum."
Rose scooped the phone up and tapped the message icon.
Nice to meet you, Lily. I'm… Oh, I suppose I'm John Smith. Never really had a fake name before, that'll take some getting used to.
Yeah, it's a bit weird isn't it? I mean, I get why they suggest it, but I've never really thought about being called anything but my name, so I had to think about it for a moment. Rose bit her lip and shook her head. Guess I could have just gone the easy route like some people, she teased. Really, John Smith? That's like, the most common name in England.
John started typing right away, and Rose was surprised to find she was eager to hear what he said. Teasing him so early had been a calculated risk; would he be comfortable enough to tease her back?
Well that's the advantage, isn't it? he said. We all know a John Smith, or more than one. So when you tell your friends you're dating someone named John Smith, no one will think it's the one they know.
Rose raised an eyebrow. You picked a boring name with me in mind, huh?
Well, maybe not you in particular, since I had no idea I'd be matched you with, Miss Evans. The combination of the precise language and formal address made Rose giggle. That name though—that name carries some weight with it. You wouldn't happen to be a Harry Potter fan, would you?
Rose grinned and settled back against her pillows. Might be.
What made you choose Lily instead of Hermione or Ginny or any of the other heroines?
She started to answer, then stopped and deleted it. Would he even get the reference? Would it matter? What if he thought it was stupid?
Still there, Lily?
Its a bit silly really. Rose bit her lip, then typed an answer and hit send before she could second guess herself again. See, there's this bloke in my class who keeps asking me out. He's fine—takes no for an answer and just tries again the next week. Not an "arrogant toerag" like James Potter, but… I s'pose I'm just tired of being asked, like Lily must have been.
James stared at his phone. When Jack had teased him with the idea that he might learn something as a fake boyfriend that might help him win Rose over, he hadn't thought he'd get this lucky.
He tapped his fingers against the back of the phone, trying to find a way to subtly ask Lily if there was anything her "James" could do gain her affection.
Is that why you signed up for Unboyfriend? he finally sent as the opener.
A little. It's like the website says, yeah? Everyone kept pestering me to date, and they all had someone in mind. My mum still thinks I should hook back up with my old boyfriend, even though we don't have much in common anymore.
James bounced his foot on the bed, waiting for her to explain more about the classmate who kept asking her out.
It's my friends who think I should date… Well, let's call him James. They've decided we're like, star-crossed lovers or something. Soul mates, meant to be. They're determined to get us together, and I'm just not interested. I thought if I told them I was already dating someone…
Quite right. He considered for a moment, and finally decided he didn't really have anything to lose by asking. Can I ask… I assume you have a reason for turning him down?
As soon as he hit send, he remembered Donna's rants about how women shouldn't need to justify turning a man down, and he started typing again. I mean, maybe you just don't like him, which is fine, but… it just sounds like maybe there's more to it?
Lily started replying right away, and he held his breath. Thanks John. You're the first person who hasn't insisted it wasn't enough to just not be interested.
She kept typing, and James crossed his fingers. If Lily could show him where he was going wrong with Rose, maybe they could at least be friends.
I suppose he's a nice enough bloke. But asking me out… it doesn't seem like he takes it seriously. It's more like, 'Oh, it's been a few days. I should chat Lily up again,' y'know? And he never tries just talking and getting to know me.
James stared at her words, a rock setting in the pit of his stomach. Lily could be describing him, instead this other James. What really hurt though was what she hadn't said. You don't think he's really interested.
Nah. It's just a game to him, that's all. If I ever said yes, I bet he'd be tripping over himself trying to back out.
James fervently hoped Rose thought better of him than Lily did of her admirer, but he had to admit that he'd never done anything to indicate to her that he was interested beyond asking her out.
Jack stuck his head into the room. "James. C'mon, we're getting out of here."
James looked at his phone and sighed. "Fine, I'll be out in a minute. Just let me put a clean shirt on." Jack disappeared and James sent a quick message to Lily. I have to go, Lily. My flat mate is insisting we do more over half-term than just lie around the flat. But I'll text you later if that's all right.
That's fine. Have fun, John.
DWDWDWDWDW
On Monday morning, Rose had her head down, re-reading John's email while she walked to class. They'd started talking about Harry Potter more later in the weekend, and he'd sent her a long message listing all the things the films got wrong.
She was laughing and shaking her head over his diatribe about how giving all of Ron's best lines to Hermione had actually weakened her character when she walked into something warm and decidedly solid. The impact nearly toppled her backwards, but a strong hand grabbed her elbow and held her upright.
"Whoa, are you all right?" James asked, dropping his hand once she'd regained her balance.
"Yeah." She snorted and shoved her phone into her pocket. "That's what I get for not watching where I'm going, yeah?"
He ran his hand through his hair, but for once, the habitual move looked more… more like a nervous tic. Rose's stomach dropped. She really wasn't ready to see the look on his face when she told him she had a boyfriend, but putting it off wouldn't make it any easier. He'll get over it anyway, she reminded herself. He's not really interested.
"Look, James—"
"I'm sorry!" he blurted out before she could finish, leaving her gaping.
"You're… what?"
"I'm sorry I kept asking you out," he aid, looking both miserable and penitent. "We both know you're not interested in me, but…" He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Maybe we could be friends?"
Rose stared at him. Nothing had gone the way she'd expected since she'd gotten back to uni. Martha and Mickey had fought over the weekend, leading her friend to rant about how Rose had been smart, not saying yes to James. And now James was apologising?
"Who are you and what have you done with James Noble?" she asked, only half kidding.
He winced. "I might have talked to someone over the weekend who pointed a few things out to me."
Rose bit her lip. She'd been all set to tell him she had a boyfriend, but the idea of lying when there apparently wasn't any need didn't sit well with her. She hadn't told Martha yet for the same reason—had signing up for the Unboyfriend been completely superfluous?
Their classmates started to trickle into the room before she could form an answer for him, so she gave him a weak smile and said, "We'll talk later, 'kay James?"
But instead, she spent most of the week with Martha, trying to help her sort through the argument with Mickey. No one knew Mickey Smith's shortcomings as well as she did, but she knew his strengths better than most too, and by the end of the week, the couple was at least talking again.
On Saturday morning, Rose pulled a well-worn book from her shelf and walked to the corner coffee shop, determined to get a few hours of quiet and reading in. After ordering her latte and pastry, she settled into her favourite seat—the squeaky booth toward the back of the cafe—and opened her book.
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.
A shadow fell across her table just when Harry made the glass disappear. "Well hello, Rose Tyler."
She knew the voice, but instead of his usual flirty tone, James just sounded glad to see her. Rose let the book fall shut on her finger and looked up t him. "I've never seen you in here before."
James shrugged. "Ships in the night, apparently. Everyone knows this is the best place in town to get reading done."
Rose nodded; it was true. She caught sight of the book he was holding and grinned. It was a brand-new, hard cover copy of the same book she held in tattered paperback. "First time or reread?" she asked.
James pulled out the chair and raised his eyebrows in question, not sitting until she said yes. "Oh, re-read Rose! I just needed to get a set to keep here; my old ones are at home."
It was only after they parted ways two hours later that Rose realised they never actually did talk about being friends. I guess we are now.