A/N: Because Lily is more like a teacher than James is. Duh. I know, this is a tiny tiny tiny one-shot, but I did enjoy writing it.
The first time she ever met him was two years ago. She can hardly believe it's been so long; she remembers it as if it were just yesterday.
She had been nineteen, just a lowly teacher's assistant and occasional substitute who'd just moved into town. Still, she'd frequently used the title for herself, because it made her feel like she had actually accomplished something. It was a hot August afternoon, just two weeks before the start of term, and she was sitting in the quaint coffee shop on the little boulevard. She didn't know if the coffee shop had a name at all; in fact, she didn't know the boulevard's name either. But everyone knew the coffee shop on the little boulevard, tucked away in the corner a block away from the school building. The football field was nearby, and she could hear the boys noisily celebrating their first evening of proper practice after the summer.
He was sixteen, going into Year 11. She knows that not many good stories start like that, but hers, she thinks, is not half bad.
She took a sip of her cold coffee, savouring its cool taste on her tongue. She did not take her eyes off her book as she got up to go order a fourth coffee - or was it her fifth? At least it would help her stay up and work on her novel. She had high hopes for this story, as she had for the last hundred or so. But this idea was different, she promised herself. She would finish this one, and send it to a publisher - and then all her dreams would come true.
"Lily Antoinette Evans!" the barista said cheerily, making her roll her eyes. Benjy Fenwick insisted that she was an Antoinette at heart; apparently she was the type to say 'let them eat cake'. Lily wasn't quite sure she liked the comparison, knowing how that story ended. Grinning, she went to the counter to pick up her coffee.
"I still don't know why you call me that," she laughed.
Benjy grinned back. "Enjoy your coffee, Antoinette."
"Hey, Evans," an unfamiliar voice said suddenly. Frowning slightly, Lily turned around. She came face to face with a boy, taller than her, in a football jersey, and covered from head to toe in mud. Even so, he wore a lopsided grin, improving his appearance somewhat. Pushing his glasses up, he leaned against the counter, presumably turning up the charm. Lily could practically sense Benjy's amusement.
"Sorry, do I know you?" she asked, eyeing the muddy crest on the boy's jersey. After a moment of squinting, she realised he was a student at the local high school - where she was going to be teaching (sort of) in a fortnight's time. She got the feeling that even if she hadn't run into him beforehand, she would've heard about at the very first faculty meeting. He just seemed like that sort of boy.
"No," he said pleasantly. "But you've got a fantastic opportunity. Go out with me?"
Lily started at this, shooting Benjy a glare for his loud snort of laughter. "I'm a teacher," she said, for lack of a more appropriate response.
"And I've been told I'm a very quick learner," he replied, his cocky grin widening.
"No, I mean, I'm a teacher. At your school," she clarified.
He blinked. He frowned. He ran a muddy hand through his dark hair. "We can't let a little thing like that get in the way of this, can we?"
Lily gave a little laugh, amazed at this boy. She hadn't interacted with his species for quite some time - the arrogant, self-absorbed 'alpha male' - and she was starting to regret the fact. She'd forgotten how entertaining boys could be. "This? What?"
"The undeniable chemistry between us," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
For a moment, Lily was struck by his choice of words. What a funny coincidence, she thought, that she taught chemistry. Smiling indulgently, she said, "I'm still a teacher."
"Look, you're new, aren't you?" the boy said. Without waiting for an answer, he ploughed onward. "School doesn't start until two weeks from now. You're technically not a teacher yet."
"Honestly, what's wrong with you?" Lily laughed. "Am I really that attractive?"
"Yeah, actually. I think it's the undercover book girl thing you've got going on."
"What?"
"Y'know, immersed in your book, hanging out at a quiet cafe all afternoon, not talking to anyone. That's too stereotyped, love. I can bet that you're a real firecracker on the inside."
Lily wasn't sure what was more bizarre, the fact that a sixteen-year-old had just analysed her personality, called her 'love', let a subtle innuendo slip - or the fact that he'd done it all in about three sentences. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to that, to be honest," she said.
"You're supposed to say 'you're harassing me, kid, and I'll sock you if you say another word.'"
"That wasn't a question! I'm perfectly capable of thinking for myself, thanks," she said.
He grinned. "There you go. Let me know if you ever change your mind, eh, Antoinette?" He winked at her, and then walked away, one hand ruffling his own hair. Lily watched him go, gaping.
"I think a schoolboy just hit on me," she said finally, turning to Benjy.
Benjy wiped away the tears rolling down his face, trying to swallow his laughter. "All I can say is good luck for the start of term, Antoinette."
"Huh. Who was he, anyway?"
"Oh, football captain."
"Yeah, he seems like that sort," she said, mostly to herself.
"James Potter. Kid's middle name is 'cocky bastard'."
"That's two middle names, Benjy," Lily replied.
"Well, he's a cocky bastard, isn't he? Just the type to break standard middle name norms."
"Whatever you say," she grinned. "Send me back to the flat if I try to order another coffee. The last thing I need is a sleepless night after a weird day."
"Will do, Antoinette. Now, drink that bloody coffee, or I'll do it for you."