Don't own any of this.
Everything
Summary: Lily can't stop thinking about the boy on her cousin's soccer team.
Pairing: J/L
Word Count: 4,342
Rating: K+
Summer isn't really the perfect time to be suddenly without a single friend. In the movies and in the books, the girl always moves town right before the start of the year, and after being graciously accepted into a wonderful group of friends, she meets the love of her life. Lily is not this girl. Lily's family had moved town exactly two weeks into her summer holidays, and since it's too far a distance to travel, she's currently stuck with only her older sister and the one cousin who happens to live in this town for company.
Andrew, her cousin, is really a very nice boy, whom she hasn't seen since she was eleven years old. He's very like her in appearance; green eyes, russet hair and a wide smile that one can never dislodge.
He's very nice to her when she arrives. Petunia has already taken to ignoring her, and spends an awful lot of time in her room, decorating it. Which is fine by Lily, because they don't have much to talk about anymore. So Andrew becomes her best friend, which is kind of sad, but Lily's still hoping that this will change once she starts school in September.
Andrew brings her around the town and shows her shortcuts and the best places to buy coffee and the newsagent's that she should give her custom, because it's run by one of his mate's parents.
They've been hanging around each other about two weeks, and Lily's realized that she and Andrew have a lot in common. They like a lot of the same books and movies, and even if they haven't seen much of each other, they always seem to find something to talk about. It's around this time that Andrew brings up football. And that's where the whole love of her life thing comes in.
For about a month after that, Lily goes with him to his football practices. Sometimes they're proper practices with the coach and the people on the sidelines hurrying to give them water bottles. They play in jerseys, something Lily has come to appreciate since she's been a spectator of every last practice. She especially appreciates it when it's paired with hazel eyes, and a mop of black hair that's perfectly messy, the kind of hair that looks best when the owner just does nothing to it but roll out of bed.
Lily can't count the number of times she's imagined running her fingers through it.
And other times, Lily just accompanies Andrew when they're going for an informal game of footie, just to kick around a ball until enough people rush off to call it a day and stop. Lily likes going with Andrew, mainly because apart from the other boys on the team, he's the only person she knows, and it's much nicer than sitting around her house.
Besides, the football pitch happens to have very pretty surroundings. The horizon alone is perfect for her sketching practice, and she loves finding the new colours in the sky on the later days.
She can't do her sketching when there's an actual game on, because there's too many people around and it's usually early in the morning – Lily never has inspiration before two o' clock – but she goes along to cheer excitedly and jump and down on the stands, yelling jeers at the other team.
And the team really likes her. And Lily really likes the team. She likes one team member in particular, and he certainly isn't her cousin.
She arrives with Andrew one day in the middle of July. The sun is high in the sky and she's in her prettiest sundress. Andrew raises one eyebrow as he notices this.
"What's with the dress?" he questions. His tone's confusing, because he sounds annoyed, but he also sounds equally amused. "Who are you trying to impress?"
"Myself," she retorts, tucking her sketchbook under her arm. "Last time I checked, I was the most important person to dress for."
Andrew rolls his eyes and mutters, "Right," under his breath as he changes into his football shoes – the ones with the sharp bits at the end, Lily never bothered to ask – and runs out onto the pitch to join his mates. They're just messing around today, no coach, no drills, just a bit of footie.
She goes to her favourite place in the stands and opens her sketchbook. She waits hopefully for a yell or anything. Apart from a wave from a few of the nice boys on the team, she gets nothing. She tries to tell herself that that isn't disappointment churning in her stomach as she flips past the pages that she's filled to the brim.
Except for one page.
This page is special, because this is how she met him, much to Andrew's annoyance, that ridiculous combination of long limbs and great, dark hair and stunning hazel eyes and a crooked grin and lovely shoulders and even lovelier arms. (Lily's prepared to bet that his chest and stomach are just as lovely, but she hasn't seen him without his shirt off yet, so she has no proof.)
She'd been sketching, the same thing everyone always finds Lily doing. This was her second time in attendance of the boys' football practice, and since she didn't know any of the boys, she didn't say anything to them.
That was, until a ball came flying her way and hit her squarely in the sketchbook, sending her hand (bearing a pencil) flying across the page with a dark, unappealing mark.
Lily's head snapped up, and her face boiled. "Oi!" she yelled at the boy, who had better be walking towards her with an apology on the tip of his tongue. "What the hell do you think you're doing, I was working on that! Can't you kick a ball?"
The other boys were laughing in the distance, and Lily's face went an even deeper shade of scarlet. Had she really just said that? The boy approached her, and when she got over her initial bout of rage, she realized that this boy was very attractive. His eyes were full of warmth and mirth, and her eyes travelled over him slowly as he came closer, his lopsided grin making something flutter around her middle.
"Hey, sorry, you're not hurt, are you?"
She shook her head, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. He sat down beside her, resting his elbows on his knees, and caught sight of her notebook. "Oh, Christ, were you working on that?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "No, of course not. I carry this around for show."
"Ah." He grinned at her, and Lily was shaken to the core with disbelief. "I should have known," he said sagely. "You're one of those pretentious, I'm-an-artist non-artists."
She glared at him, and waited for him to pick up the death look. He didn't.
"This is pretty good," he remarked after a minute, leaning over her to inspect her drawing. Lily was suddenly seized with the urge to smell his hair, and sharply turned her head the other way. "Wow. You know what, it looks better this way," he said cheerfully, pointing to the deep black mark across the page that he'd caused. "That's clearly a finished piece of work."
"You're a piece of work," she said darkly, yanking the sketchbook away.
"True," he agreed gleefully. "Though most people actually refer to me as James. You're Andrew's cousin, aren't you?"
Lily nodded slowly, but the coat of ice around her heart melted when he smiled at her again, so charming it made her a little dizzy.
The boy opened his mouth to speak again, just as a couple of the other team members started yelling. "Come on, Potter! You can flirt with Andrew's cousin later!"
"Oi!" Andrew yelled, glowering at his friends.
He grinned and jumped up to rejoin the match, and when Lily looked down at the page again, she couldn't bring her pencil to it again. He was right. It did look finished.
To this day, Lily smiles whenever she flips past the page. It's the only page that has more than half an inch of white space. She doesn't feel irritated when she sees it anymore. In fact, it makes her heart swell in her chest and unleashes a hoard of butterflies in her stomach.
James doesn't see her as she sits down. She sketches for a few minutes, anything that comes into her head, but she glances up every few seconds, though she knows she shouldn't.
"Oi, Lily! Eyes on your sketchbook!"
She sticks her tongue out at Andrew, but sheepishly returns her attention to the drawing in front of her. Blushing furiously, she realizes she's drawn a figure in a football kit scoring a goal. There's no details, but he wears glasses.
A few seconds later, a ball goes flying past her ear. It bounces behind her, and she looks up, scowling, prepared to screech at the perpetrator.
And she finds James grinning at her widely.
"AT LEAST THAT ONE DIDN'T HIT YOU, EVANS," he bellows.
When her cheeks go red, the whole team lets out a chuckle. Except for Andrew, who shoves James playfully and mutters something Lily can't hear.
They take a ten minute break, and as usual, Andrew doesn't come to sit with her. He goes to chat with one of the boys about something terribly important. Lily generally spends most of the practices watching and admiring James from afar, but she can't help but notice that the first thing James does is come over and sit beside her.
When he sits down today, her heart soars and she sits up a little straighter. She sets down her pencil, as her palms are suddenly sweaty.
"You look nice," he says cheerfully, taking a long swig from his water bottle. He says this every day. Lily could turn up in a black sack and he'd probably tell her she looks nice.
He nudges her shoulder and wordlessly she opens the sketchbook again, holding it out while he surveys it. She doesn't feel weird, showing James what she's drawn. Normally she's quite secretive. But there is something about him that makes her quite certain that he won't laugh at her.
"Oi, Potter!" Andrew calls, glaring at the two of them. If James hadn't told Lily his name himself, Lily would have no idea what his first name is. All his friends only call him Potter. "Eight inches at all times!"
Then James says what he always says: "He doesn't like me talking to you."
Normally Lily agrees, but today she's feeling a little more courageous than normal, so she nudges his shoulder with her own and grins at him. "Why is that?"
He eyes her, and something indistinguishable flickers across his face. Lily doesn't have the time to decipher that look before he's grinning again. "You curled your hair," he remarks.
"Well, just that part," Lily mumbles, as he gingerly picks up the one curl at the front and pulls it over her shoulder.
"It's really nice," he says cheerfully. Lily's feelings chase each other around. James says a lot of sweet things, but what bothers her is that he doesn't really seem to get that he's saying sweet things. He says them as if he's saying that his ice cream is tasty, or his shoes are new.
But then his tone changes, and all thoughts in that vein fly out the window. "Your hair is perfect."
Lily stammers, even long after he's gotten up again and the game is finished. In fact, she stammers all the way back to her own house, while Andrew fumes silently beside her.
The next three times she goes with Andrew are spent in a creative frenzy, and that's the only way Lily can describe it. She only pauses her hectic sketching to talk to James when he comes over, wrestling the sketchbook away from him when he tries to mess with her drawings. She's filling the sketchbook at an alarming speed now. She does a lot of laughing while he sits with her.
Just as the boys are finishing up, the coach telling them they're really improving – Andrew's mother, Lily's aunt, pulls up and tells Andrew that his appointment in the dentist has been moved. He beckons to Lily, rushing for the car.
Lily sighs in defeat as she gets to her feet (usually she hangs around to talk to the players... Yes, all of them. Sort of.) but James jogs over to the car, waving at Andrew's mum.
"Hello, Mrs. Hastings!" he says cheerfully, waving. Lily's aunt smiles at him widely, and Lily knows she isn't the only one affected by this boy's charm.
"Since you're headed to the dentist, and Andrew doesn't really live anywhere near Lily, I'd be happy to drive her home instead. Her house is on my way."
Andrew starts to protest, his face going tomato-red, but Lily's aunt is already nodding. "We are already running late," she reasons. "You'll be okay, won't you, Lily?"
Lily nods, catching James' eye. He winks at her. He doesn't drive, and Lily is sure he doesn't know where her house is, but she doesn't mention that. They both wave like angels to Andrew as he glares at them before his mother pulls away.
"You have a car?" Lily inquires politely once they're out of sight.
His grin is infectious. "Of course not."
Walking with James is strange, because they've never been really really really on their own before, and Lily's used to admiring from afar. And boy, does she admire. She admires like she's never done before. She can't remember her heart thudding the way it is before now. She's sure it never has. She's had a crush or two, but this is different.
Lily thinks – well, she hopes – that this is because James feels the same way. But he's James. Moreover, he's Potter. He's everyone's friend, the popular kids, the unpopular ones, short kids, tall kids, quiet kids, loud kids. And he's chatty and he's flirty, and Lily has no idea what to make of that because he gives her far more attention than can be good for her.
"Do you live far from here?" Lily says conversationally, shoving her sketchbook in her bag as they walk.
He grins at her, quirking one eyebrow. "If I tell you where I live, am I going to find you throwing pebbles at my window at three am tonight? Because that was sort of my plan."
"No," Lily mumbles, grinning down at her shoes. She lets her hair fall in front of her face so that he can't see how red she's gone. "And don't do that. My father's strict."
"Ah. Aren't they always?" he sighs wistfully. "Are you telling me that he'd disapprove of me?"
"Not really sure what there is to disapprove of," Lily retorts, eyeing him. She thinks she's doing a good job acting like her heart isn't about to beat right out of her chest, but her eyes bulge a little too much and her hands are sweaty again.
He grins, kicking a stone in a carefully practiced way that comes from all the training. "Right. Of course. I suspect he doesn't have it easy."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yeah," James repeats for emphasis. "I know from very reliable sources that it's not easy having a beautiful teenage daughter."
Lily prompts trips over her own feet, her bag hitting the ground with a thud. She grabs the wall to stop herself from falling flat on her face, scraping her palms in the process.
He picks up her bag, and he chuckles as he hands it to her. "What, you don't believe me?" he asks, as she brushes the grit and stones away on her dress.
She shrugs, reaching out for the bag and placing it back on her shoulder, her face redder than the red poppies on her dress.
"What, are you going to tell me that you haven't noticed the way people look at you when you walk past them?" he asks, prodding her shoulder. "Seriously?"
She laughs and shakes her head, spluttering with embarrassment.
James points to a group of boys not much older than them on the other side of the road. "Look. See? That one right there, he keeps looking over at you."
Lily peers over, to find a tall boy with blond hair meeting her eyes. She blushes even deeper. "Why?" she splutters.
"Obviously he finds you attractive," he says slowly. "Any bloke with a working – er – parts would..." he trails off, and when Lily looks over, she's surprised to find that there's a pink tinge in his cheeks as well.
She just stammers a bit more awkwardly. "Ummmm, I don't think-"
"I do, though," James cuts her off.
"They're wondering what you're doing with a lanky git like me," he says cheerfully, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Maybe that's my type?" she suggests. She knows that she should be focusing on the fact that there is someone looking at the two of them. But she doesn't. The only thought running through her head is that James called her attractive. Twice. He thinks she's attractive. And that time the other day, he said her hair was perfect. James thinks that there's a part of her that's perfect.
It's quiet for a few seconds, and Lily's mind is... blank. She can't think of a single thing to say, too consumed in what he's just said, in what she should do next. Half-formed images flit into her mind, the two of them standing a lot closer together, so close she can count his eyelashes and the barely noticeable freckles on his nose, only visible if you really look for them. She always did notice his arms, now her thoughts wander to what it would be like with them firmly around her waist...
Oh. He's speaking. Shit.
"What?"
James grins as if he understands why she wasn't listening. She flushes again. "I said, are you going to the game next week? It's pretty big. The whole school will be there, I can introduce you to some nice girls, they'll take care of you when we get to school..."
"Meaning you won't be taking care of me?" she says, fake-pouting up at him.
"Oh, of course I will." He doesn't miss a beat. "But I can't follow you into the girls' bathroom. Well, I could, but I'm not supposed to. So you need some girl friends. Besides, who else are you going to talk to about your massive crush on me?"
She glances over at him, and has to fight so hard to suppress a smile, her expression of chagrin turns out rather pained as she murmurs a non-committal: "Mmm..."
"Come on, you have to go. I'll be there, isn't that incentive enough? I'll be playing. I need someone to cheer for me. I don't think I can play without you sitting in the stands not paying attention."
"I pay attention," Lily says immediately.
He snorts. "Not to the game."
"I pay more attention than you think," Lily says, her mouth moving before her brain has enough time to register how that sounds. It's the truth, but still... And maybe it's worth it when she sees the corner of his mouth tug up.
"I'll be there," she continues hurriedly. "All the time I've spent watching you p- you guys play. I'm invested now."
If the sun ever burned out, Lily thinks that the smile he gives her then could have lit up the whole planet. "Great."
The game, as it turns out, is the most fun Lily's had all summer, as well as being the most nerve-wracking thing she's ever come across in her life. Her nails are bitten to the quick, and she does so much time screaming and cheering for the team (Well, mostly James, but he's on the team) her voice is hoarse before half time.
About five minutes into the second half, James scores (another) spectacular goal, and Lily leaps out of her seat, cheering manically. Andrew waves his whole arm at her, looking ready to breathe fire.
"OI! LILY! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO CHEER FOR HIM ANYMORE. YOU KEEP AWAY FROM HIM."
James starts laughing so hard he falls over, clutching his stomach, right there on the pitch in the middle of play. Her eyes remain transfixed on him (alright, they were the whole time, but now it's more intense than it was before) and when he finally gets to his feet, he catches her eye and winks at her before going back to the game. Lily feels something explode inside her.
The team wins spectacularly, and they go out for pizza to celebrate. All of their friends in the crowd are invited. So's Lily. She's convinced that James goes for the last pepperoni slice just because Lily reaches for it. He meets her eyes over the table and smirks. The rest of the boys at the table burst out with suggestive "ooohs" and the ones closest to James nudge his shoulder.
He just grins and turns his palm up. "It's all yours, Evans," he says politely. Lily takes the last slice, ignoring the smirks and Andrew's glare, her cheeks bright red.
One of the boys – Steven, Lily's almost sure – opens his mouth to speak, grinning. "Maybe you should take her out on a proper date, Potter."
Andrew looks like he could spit fire. "NO. She's busy for the next TWENTY YEARS."
Lily stalls as she's getting ready to leave. It's dark outside by now. Most people have stayed, but a couple of people have already left. She fiddles with the clasp on her bag while she dawdles; her eyes are on James.
He's speaking with Andrew in hushed tones, and Lily's cheeks go even darker when she sees them both glancing her way. She busies herself with her jacket then, trying her best not to be too obvious, but she can't keep her eyes off them. She strains her ears.
Eventually, Andrew pats James' shoulder and slouches off with a not entirely serious scowl. He walks over to her and grins at her, a little begrudgingly.
"Just don't be all in my face about it, yeah?" he mutters. Before Lily has a chance to answer, he sighs dramatically and falls into step beside some of the boys on his team on their way out. He's smiling.
As the pizza place starts to empty out, Lily's heart begins to thud in her chest when she sees James loitering by the door. She battles with herself about whether he's waiting for her for a minute or two, until her eyes fall on him without her permission, and he beckons for her.
They walk beside each other, and Lily doesn't understand how she's managing to put one foot in front of the other, because her legs have turned to jelly.
"You two coming?" one of the lads calls. It's not Andrew. James just waves his off.
"Yeah, yeah, we'll find our way."
"We're not sure if we should leave her alone with you, Potter!"
James, surprisingly, goes pink. Lily grins and pats his arm. "We'll be fine."
"Listen," James says quietly, his hand jumping to the back of his neck. "Do you want to take a detour, maybe?" Suddenly Lily understands why he's James to her and not to everyone else. He's different to her. He's her James.
The distant yells of, "Oi, Potter! Where are you going with my cousin?" follows them as they turn and walk in the opposite direction. Lily feels like every single bit of her is burning up with electricity. Every time she glances over at him, or any time he laughs, or makes her laugh, her heart leaps into her throat and her stomach flips over.
They chat for a while, until Lily really doesn't know where they're going, but she trusts that he does, so she just listens to him. He talks with his hands, she notices. He's got really nice hands too, long nimble fingers that look very skilled, very confident. She swallows when she thinks of how they'd feel grazing over her arm or her waist, firm and assured in their direction.
She blinks and looks away hurriedly, her face burning, and then notices that James has gone quiet. "Listen, about what the lads were saying," James begins, and before he's even finished his sentence, Lily's face threatens to break in half she smiles so widely.
"I think they may have a point, James."
Lily bounces on the balls of her feet. They're not walking anymore. They're just standing on the footpath, blinking at each other expectantly.
"You think so?" he says, out of breath. Which strikes Lily as quite odd, considering how much time he spends playing football. She nods, her smile growing. It matches his.
"So, do you... Do you think we could... I mean... Do you think you and I could ... If you wanted to..."
Lily tries not to laugh, but he looks adorable as he stammers and runs a hand through his hair, flustered. The shadows on his face make the angles of his cheekbones and jaw look amazing. Her heart is pounding madly, and she lets out a giggle.
"Come on, don't laugh at me," he mutters, pouting at her. Lily stops abruptly, suddenly caught out of breath. He's beautiful.
"What the hell," he mutters, and he reaches forward, grabs her hand, and tugs. She's suddenly encircled in the very arms she's imagined around her for months, and he's grinning down at her with a twinkle in his eyes as he bends his head to kiss her. She feels like she's about to burst into flame, running her hands through his hair and thinking that he is everything she imagined he'd be.
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