Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos

by xMagicalMystery

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop. (Jily, AU)

6. Chapter 6: What do I do now?

Guess who's back? Back again?

Sorry I dipped for almost 2 years. If you follow me on tumblr I've talked a little about why but it really comes down to life things, mental health, and writer's block. (If you don't follow me, rude. Please follow me, moonawrites) I'm still not totally happy with this chapter if I'm being honest, but if I kept playing with it this story would never get done. It is what it is. My vision started blurring when I tried editing this just now and the words just flew over my head because I'm so tired of reading this chapter. It's not my best work and I don't know if it will be worth the long wait, but I just wanted to get this story moving again. I'm excited to be back in this story and back to writing about my babies, I missed them.

I hope you guys enjoy reading it. Thank you so much for your patience, and for still being here.

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Chapter 6: What do I do now?

"For the last time, nobody touch James Potter's hair!"

The hair stylist jumps away from James as Erin stalks towards them. James's lips twitch. Erin is short and terrifying, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor towards you rarely foreshadows good news for anybody.

James is not quite sure what Erin's job is exactly, but it's in the neighbourhood of marketing and PR or something of the sort – she's often on the squad's asses about their social media accounts and she was there for James and Jordi's UEFA interview. She really seems to be around any time there's media present or any sort of promotional content being created.

"It's a part of his whole…" Erin trails off as she comes to a stop in front of them, making vague circular motions in the air with her hands to frame James' face. "His thing. People like it. Leave him alone and go do something about Miller's, he could use some help."

James snickers as the stylist hurries off. He runs both hands through his hair, undoing whatever she had been trying to achieve.

"What do I do now?" he asks Erin.

"Go change into your kit," she instructs. "We'll start with your solo shots."

Chelsea's new home kits for the upcoming 2017-18 season are being released soon, and today, the team has been summoned to their stadium criminally early for a promotional photoshoot. Lighting equipment, photo sets and cameras have overtaken Stamford Bridge, and the place is bustling with staff scurrying around trying to get everything done. With the team still playing for the league title, they're not afforded much time for photoshoots, so it's all a rush. Later in the day, James is also going to be part of the promotional video for the kits.

When it's finally handed to him, James stares at the shirt in his hand. It's the first time he's seen it in person, and he instantly likes it more than the current one. It's cleaner and sleeker. Of course it's the same iconic Chelsea blue that it always is, but there's always something so exciting about a new kit. Something to do with the promise of a new season, another chance.

James runs his fingers over the familiar Chelsea crest on the front, then turns the shirt over to see his name written across the back: Potter in crisp white lettering, 17 below it. He can picture himself wearing this in a few months' time, stepping out onto the familiar Stamford Bridge pitch, the stands full of fans in their matching shirts. Many of them will probably wear his shirt, now that they can buy it officially.

He'd feel a lot more excited about that possibility if he knew for a fact that he would get it.

James pulls the shirt over his head and makes quick work of getting the rest of his kit on. A new set of his custom Nike boots are the last item he puts on before he's lead over to the photographer. At least the boots he will get to take with him, no matter where he goes.

James nods along to the photographer's instructions, but half his mind is somewhere else. It's strange, not knowing whether he will actually be back here next season – and yet the club has asked him to be one of the few players in the promotional video. He knows they'll use his face to promote the shirt for as long as they can, because he knows and the club knows that fans will buy it for him. The thought makes his chest ache a little bit. If he can't stay, will the fans at his new club love him just as much? Will Chelsea fans hate him if he goes? Will they hate him more if he stays, and Coleman goes instead?

Sirius said it was cheap of the club to use his image before they'd agreed on new terms. But it doesn't matter if James comes back next season or not. He's still a Chelsea player for the next few months, and he has to do what's asked of him, even if it feels like the future he craves is being dangled in front of him, ready to be pulled away at any moment. He'd mumbled his agreement and changed the subject, but secretly, James is glad. He's glad that his image in a Chelsea shirt, his time at this club will be immortalized in this way, no matter what the coming season brings.

"Just freestyle," the photographer instructs him, tossing James a football. He's currently stood in front of a white backdrop, having just finished up some still shots. But as the photographer said, football shirts are meant to be played in.

James isn't sure exactly what he wants to see, he's not a freestyler. But he does know what looks cool in pictures, and they're filming too in case some good footage comes out of it, so obviously he needs to put on a bit of a show.

He starts off just juggling the ball between his feet to get started, and then he tries out some tricks. Around the worlds, neck stalls, all the little bits he's picked up over the years. Swing his leg around the ball as it rises, catch it on his neck. Catch it between the back of his foot and his thigh. A little twist in between for a bit of flourish. He gives it height, kicking the ball higher and jumping high off the ground to meet it. Remembering the cameras, James makes sure to throw in a face and a pose here and there.

"You're a natural," the photographer tells him after as he scrolls through the shots, James looking over his shoulder to see how they came out. "You have fun in front of the camera, your teammates are so stiff."

"That's what I tell them too," James jokes.

The photos come out so good, he can't even blame Chelsea for wanting to use him in the promo material. There's so much movement in them, so much energy. He had fun and it shows on his face. He actually looks like someone who loves to play football, the embodiment of Chelsea's bright future.

If this is the version of himself he leaves with Chelsea, he's happy with that. And it's only in that moment, when he has this thought, that James realizes he's accepted the possibility that he may not be coming back.

"Are you ready to go?" Sirius asks, already putting a jacket on over his t-shirt. It's spring, but they're not feeling much of the warmth it's supposed to bring yet.

James glances up from his phone. "For what?"

Sirius' lips turn down into a little frown. "Rabbit Hole. What else?"

Right. It's Thursday morning. They go to The Rabbit Hole on Thursday mornings.

"Oh. I think I'm gonna skip it."

Sirius gives him a long look. "You didn't go last week either. What's up?"

"Nothing's up. I got home really late on Wednesday last week, remember? I was just really tired."

"Fine, and what about today?"

James shrugs. "I guess I've just finally gotten over it. Overpriced coffee that tastes like every other coffee in the whole of Europe, like you said." He has to fight the urge to physically cringe at the blatant lie. Sorry Genie, I swear I don't mean it.

Sirius snorts, not buying it for a second. "Disgusting, mate. I'm telling Genie you said that."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Did you fight with Lily or something?"

"No. I hung out with her on the weekend." He did. "And I'll see her at Marlene's birthday party on Saturday, too." He will. He's not looking forward to it.

Sirius sighs and drops onto the sofa. "Well I guess there's no point in me going, then."

"Yes there is, you love it. Just go with Hestia or Pete."

"No. We're supposed to go together," Sirius complains, his frown deepening as he looks back at James. "You're so moody lately."

James sighs in irritation, about to snap something rude at him, but he catches himself. It's true. He is moody, and it's not Sirius' fault. "I know. Sorry."

"Have you talked to your dad since…?" Since that phone call. Almost two weeks ago now.

James was already asleep when Sirius came home that night. He'd gone straight to bed after training the next day too, and the next, and then Sirius got worried that he was sick and called Euphemia. James hadn't meant to tell his mum about the fight. She'd checked up on him when he came home from Turin and was already worried about him, he didn't see any need to upset her further. But the moment she saw him, she knew something was wrong. Apparently dad had asked her if she'd heard from him, and at the mention of his father, James couldn't keep it in anymore.

"No." James can feel himself immediately close up at the mention of him. His father had tried to call him a few times in the days following, but James refused to answer.

James knows his parents had a massive fight after he told his mum about it. He doesn't know the details because he wasn't there and mum told him not to worry about it when he asked, but he does know it happened, because for the past two weeks dinner has been at mum's old Kensington apartment instead of their family house. Mum says she's staying there for a while, and knowing he's the cause of a fight like this fills James with a mixture of dread and guilt that makes him feel nauseous every time he remembers it.

"Is it that?" Sirius asks.

"No." James sinks further into the sofa. "Maybe? I don't know."

"That, and Coleman?"

James has sunk down so far, he's almost flat on his back, his head propped up against a cushion, legs sprawled out on the floor. He turns his head to look at Sirius. "I really want to wear the new kit."

He has an entire collection of new season Chelsea clothes stowed in his closet, but Sirius knows that's not what he means. His best friend's features instantly soften, a subtle change James has only learned to spot with years of practice. "I know. You might still."

"Do you think if I stay, and Coleman leaves because of me, Chelsea fans would hate me?"

"If they do, fuck them. You are Chelsea. You've been wearing their shirt since you knew what football was, you came up through the academy, you'd do anything for this club and everyone can see it. Anyone who hates you for staying or going after what they've put you through this season can go fuck themselves, they're not Chelsea fans." Sirius pauses for a moment. Then he takes out his phone. "That's good. Hold on, I'm gonna tweet that."

James' lips twitch just slightly. Sirius has pretty much taken it upon himself to run a Keep James Potter at Chelsea campaign online. It's ridiculous… and so nice.

James sits up. "Mate, I love you so much."

"Okay, don't cry about it."

James rolls his eyes. "What if I have to move, though?" he asks, more to himself than to Sirius. "Either I have to play for Tottenham or –"

"Fuck Tottenham, if you ever say that out loud again, I'm disowning you."

Playing for one of Chelsea's London rivals… even the thought of it is laughable. Forget the fans, he'd hate himself too. "Then you'll have to move with me."

Sirius' head snaps up from his phone. James can see on his face that he hasn't considered this. "I have uni?"

He and Sirius, they've known each other since they were three. They haven't been apart for an extended period of time since, a month or two over the years, at most. They've lived together for years now, too. The prospect of not living with Sirius, of not living in the same city, the same country as Sirius… it makes the bubble of panic that had settled in his stomach the moment he found out about Coleman's ultimatum grow just that little bit more.

Sirius turns back to his phone, and James recognizes the hint of fury in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asks warily.

Sirius doesn't glance up. "Tweeting a Michael Coleman fails compilation. This prick. Seriously, fuck this dinosaur. He's like forty, imagine being two breaths away from death and making this big of a fuss?" Coleman is twenty-eight, he's got years left in him yet, but James laughs loudly anyways. Sirius looks back at him and gets up, a bounce in his step. "Let's go vandalize his house!"

James laughs again. "And put the final nail in my coffin when we get caught on CCTV?"

"We'd wear disguises," Sirius grumbles, but he slumps back down onto the sofa.

"What if I signed on with Chelsea but went on loan to another club?"

Sirius scowls. "Fuck that." That's about the reaction James had expected. "You either stay or you don't, nothing in between. Chelsea shouldn't get to have any control over your career if you're not going to play for them."

James sighs and gets up, stretches. "Come on. Let's go to The Rabbit Hole. And should we call up Frank and Alice and the twins for dinner?"

Maybe it's because Sirius has lifted his mood like he always does. Maybe it's because he's not sure how much longer they'll get to do this.

On their way downstairs, James checks Sirius' twitter to see what he tweeted to his thousands of followers. The tweet itself is what he'd said out loud, verbatim, but it's the hashtag on the end that really makes James smile. Sirius came up with it after the Juventus game, for "fans of James Potter first, Chelsea second", in his own words.

#LightningFC is a reference to James' nickname in football, lightning bolt. Sirius originally got everyone on his "side" to tweet it under every one of Coleman's tweets, Chelsea FC's tweets, and on the end of any tweet supporting him… and then suddenly it just became a thing. Now everyone who tweets about him uses it. When there's an article about him, if someone's posting a video of him, whatever, the hashtag is there.

Sirius doesn't say I love you out loud all that often, not like James. But he puts #LightningFC in his twitter bio and calls mum when he's worried about him and knows all the right things to say all the time, and James thinks that's probably more.

x.x.x.x.x

League games don't usually happen on Thursdays, but there's a rescheduled La Liga game between Barcelona and Atlético on, so James and Sirius take their drinks and food to the back corner of The Rabbit Hole and sit down in front of the TV.

It's a bit of a stroke of luck to get to watch a match here with Sirius, and for it to be such a good one. The more he plays football at the top level, the more clinical James becomes when he watches it, dissecting plays and analyzing the way other players move… but he still gets lost in it when he watches Messi. There's no one like him.

It reminds James that he doesn't just want to make it. He doesn't just want to be good. He doesn't even want to be one of the best. He wants to be the best. Of his time, of all time. It's a crazy thing to say out loud, like who does this kid think he is? But it is and has been and always will be the ultimate goal. James sets goals to keep himself driven and focused, to stop himself from ever getting too comfortable to push for growth and improvement. He needs it.

Short term goals, like hitting a certain speed or getting his passing accuracy up to a certain level. Long term goals, like playing for England in a world cup. Career highlight level goals, things every football player dreams of but not everyone can achieve: win a Champion's League, a World Cup, a Ballon d'Or. And then there's that, the ultimate goal: be the greatest ever, because that's one he'll never get to stop working for, not until the day he takes off his boots for the very last time.

It's funny, he plays football just about every day. His life revolves around it. But sometimes it's watching someone else play from the sofa while he laughs with his friend and sips on a cappuccino that reminds him. He's in this for the long haul, he's in this for an endgame that's bigger than any club, even Chelsea. It's a helpful reminder right now.

At halftime, James takes their empty mugs back and waits while Lily serves another customer.

She smiles at him as she comes over afterwards. "Refill?"

James shakes his head. "Sirius would like a caramel frap, extra caramel, and a pump of hazelnut. Um, with soy milk, light ice… and extra whip, please." He cringes. "Sorry, I know he sucks."

Lily's lips twitch. "That's really not so bad. What about you?"

"A smoothie. Surprise me?"

Lily grins. "Okay, I've been wanting to try a new one. How's the match?"

"Messi masterclass. I'm predicting a hattrick."

James takes a seat at the bar while he waits for the drinks. He decides to read some of the obscene amount of texts he's been ignoring for weeks to avoid talking.

Since the day Lily established just how thoroughly she wanted nothing more than to be his friend, James has seen her once, on the weekend. He'd made some excuse about being tired last Thursday, but there was only so many times he could avoid seeing her before it got suspicious. On Sunday, she'd come over and he'd made sure Peter was there too. A buffer, so things wouldn't get weird. Lily wouldn't do anything, she probably didn't even realize anything was different to begin with. But James didn't trust himself to behave normally. That's why he'd made excuses every other time she wanted to hang out.

He's sure he must have done something that prompted her need to remind him of the boundary between them, and that has him thinking all sorts of things. Mainly that she must know he fancies her and is desperate to make her lack of interest clear, which is as embarrassing as it is painful. Had he been so obvious? And was the prospect of giving him a chance so unthinkable? And what if he does something wrong again, how would she react and how would he survive it? And if this is how it is, can he even keep being her friend? And if not, how is he meant to go on without her? It's unimaginable at this point.

"James?"

James jumps slightly. Lily is standing in front of him on the other side of the counter, a concerned frown on her face. His smoothie (it's a pleasant, light yellow) and Sirius' frap are already in front of him. The look on Lily's face suggests she must have said his name a few times.

"Oh, sorry." He hops off the stool, pockets his phone, and picks up the drinks. "Thanks."

Lily stares at him. "James, is something wrong?"

James raises his eyebrows at her, as if he's confused. "No. Why?"

"You've just been… I don't know. Absent? Quiet?"

James offers her a small smile. He hopes it doesn't look as strained as it feels. "I'm just tired. It happens at the end of the season." Lily looks unconvinced and opens her mouth to say something else, but he says, "I'm fine though, don't worry." And then he walks back to Sirius.

He feels bad, but he doesn't know how to deal with this. He's never fancied a friend before. He's never fancied anyone like this before, and Lily's not even just any friend. He can't imagine his life without her anymore, she's so important to him. This has become a bigger problem than he'd anticipated, and he just doesn't have the energy to handle it right now, not with everything else going on. So he's just going to avoid it. It might not be the best plan, but it's the only one he's got.

Lily comes over at her break. The match has just ended, and James is arguing with Sirius over whether Piqué deserved a red card or not, when she drops into the seat next to him.

"That's a pretty obvious foul," she says, watching the replay on TV. James grins – Lily has picked up quite a bit of football since befriending him. It's sweet that she watches all his games.

"Yeah, but a yellow card foul," Sirius insists. "It wasn't that bad."

"But that would've been a goal otherwise. It's a red. Why are you arguing against me? Football is my job, I'm automatically right."

Lily wrinkles her nose. "I bet that gets annoying."

Sirius snorts. "You have no idea. He's unbearable."

James only shrugs. "I'm sorry that I'm right all the time. Messi did get a hattrick, by the way."

Sirius gives Lily a deadpan look and her lips twitch.

"Do you guys wanna come over tonight?" she asks. "We'll order Chinese."

Before Sirius can answer, James says, "I'm meeting Kingsley later."

Sirius glances at him. The change in his expression is subtle, but James knows his face well enough to get okay, bullshit from it. Belatedly, he remembers that he suggested getting dinner with some of their school friends tonight, a mere few hours ago. Sirius knows there's no Kingsley meeting. Ugh. Lying is hard.

Mercifully, Sirius says nothing, but James knows the questions will come later. And afterwards, the I told you so.

"Oh," Lily says, her face blank. "That sucks."

"I'll see you on Saturday," James reminds her, feeling a little bit bad.

"You're so busy lately."

"Yeah… it's just, you know. End of season. It's busy." Has he used this one already? "And with all the contract negotiation madness..." he shrugs. There. That's solid enough, right?

"Any progress there?" Lily asks.

"Some," James says. "Not enough. They suggested a meeting with us and Coleman's camp, but Kingsley shut that down immediately. Obviously."

"I'm sure it'll work out," Lily assures him. "They'd be mad to let you go."

James shrugs. He'd thought so too, but he's not so sure anymore. Maybe he and everyone else have been overestimating his potential. It happens all the time. Young players who look like they're going to be something special, and then they're just not.

"Maybe we'll come over after James' meeting," Sirius suggests, watching James as he says it. James forces his face to stay neutral, but it's strained. "How long could it take? He's been so moody lately." He stretches his leg across the table between them and nudges James' knee with his foot. "You could use some social interaction outside of football and me."

"I'm getting it right now," James grumbles. Then he catches Lily watching him and straightens up a bit. "But yeah, I guess we'll try to make it after." He'll just say the meeting ran long. Or that Kingsley suggested they do it over dinner. Whatever. What's one more lie?

"That's alright," Lily says, her smile false. "Don't strain yourself. I know you're busy."

James fights the urge to scowl at Sirius. Why did he have to bring it up again?

"Anyways." He feels guilty. First he felt scorned, and now he feels guilty and scorned. This rejection business is truly shit. "Is it cheeky if I get Marlene Chelsea merch for her birthday? What if I got her my shirt?" James asks to change the subject.

"I'm sure she's not expecting anything," Lily says. "Just show up to her party, she'll be thrilled."

James waves her off. "Well that's no problem, Sirius lives for parties." He grins. "Oh! Frank hardly uses his season tickets! I'll give them to Marlene this year."

"Speaking of, will I still get to see games from the box if you transfer?" Sirius asks.

"Why would you? Unless you can convince someone else to bring you as their guest."

"I bet Jordi would."

"You'd just replace me with Jordi?" James demands, affronted. He frowns, suddenly thinking of something. "Hey, if I transfer, are you going to support me or Chelsea?"

"Can't I do both?"

"What if my new club plays Chelsea?"

"Are you playing?"

James thinks about it. "No. But it's a knock-out stage game. I lose my shot at a trophy."

"But… so does Chelsea."

Lily, who had just been listening until now, laughs. "What happened to James Potter fan first, Chelsea second?"

"That's only for the internet's benefit," James says sadly.

"A thank you for all my hard work wouldn't kill you, you know," Sirius says darkly. "I started a movement on your behalf!"

"You don't even believe in it!"

"So? I'm just one person."

"You're a god damn traitor, that's what you are."

Sirius sighs. "You're so dramatic."

"And exhausting," Lily adds.

James frowns at her. "I haven't done anything to you!"

"So you're acknowledging that you have done something to me?" Sirius asks. "Just so we're clear?"

James is about to say something when the café door is thrust open. A woman dressed head to toe in red saunters in. Red blouse tucked into flared red trousers, the toes of heeled red boots peeking out underneath, a red trench coat on top, red leather handbag on her arm. The only item in the ensemble that's not red is the narrow cat eye sunglasses perched on her nose. Those are all black.

On anyone else, the over the top ensemble would look ridiculous. On Genevieve Wallace, it's like, what else would she wear? Like yes, this woman is in her sixties, but bold monochromatic looks were made for her.

James grins and hops off the sofa. "Genie! I thought you died."

Genie whips the shades off her face and shakes out her dark bob. Her eyes, a piercing blue, narrow as she comes towards them. "Did you attempt to attend my funeral?"

"No, but I did try to contact your will executor."

"For that, I will leave you exactly nothing."

James laughs and Genie hugs him. Behind them, Sirius looks at Lily like, see? I wasn't exaggerating.

"Were you in Prague all this time?"

"Don't be silly. I was in Thailand. And China, Japan, and Korea."

"Of course you were. Why wouldn't you be in Asia with no concern for the steep decline your café has taken?"

Genie cocks a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "What decline?"

"For one, your new employee," James points at Lily. "Cannot make a cappuccino to save her life."

"I shall have to ban you the next time you say a word against that darling girl." James' mouth drops, and Lily gives him a satisfied smirk. "How are you, dear? Has he been giving you much trouble?"

"Oh, Genie," Lily sighs heavily. "You have no idea."

---

The day of Marlene's birthday, Lily is excited for a night of drinking and dancing and, if she's being honest, hanging out with James for more than the short bits of time she's been getting with him recently. With the apartment decorated, the drinks stocked, the photobooth set up (a 90's graffiti style backdrop, courtesy of Sirius), and the cake chilling in the fridge, there's nothing left to do but get ready. She, Mary, and Marlene are all piled up in her and Mary's shared room, clothes and makeup occupying every spare surface.

Lily is sitting cross legged on the floor, compact in hand and working on her eyeliner, when Marlene suddenly asks, "is James dating someone?"

Lily jerks around to face her, barely dropping her eyeliner hand in time to save the look she'd spent half an hour slaving over. "I don't think so. Why?"

Marlene shuffles over from the bed, where she's taking a break from doing her makeup and is scrolling through twitter instead. She holds her phone out for Lily to see.

"Just friends or something more? Chelsea star James Potter spotted getting cozy with mystery blonde," the tweet from some trashy tabloid reads. Before she can think better of it, Lily grabs the phone from Marlene and clicks the link to the article, ignoring the look her friend gives her. She feels guilty reading it as it is, but her curiosity is more pressing. Mary walks over and leans over Lily's other shoulder as she scrolls through the article.

There's grainy cellphone photos of James with a girl through the window of a café. Lily can't quite make out her face in those photos, but there's more of the two of them leaving. She's walking ahead of James and he's holding onto her hand in one of them. In another, he's leaning against the wall of the café and she's standing beside him, the two of them looking at each other. There's one picture of the two of them hugging, and James is smiling.

"Do you know who she is?" Marlene asks, and Lily only shakes her head. She feels an odd tightness in her chest, a sinking in her stomach. Is James dating someone?

The girl is pretty and tall. James is tall, and whereas Lily is more than a head shorter than him, the top of this girl's head is a mere few inches from James'. He probably wouldn't have to bend his head too far to kiss her, just a comfortable dip. She's a willowy blonde, wearing an outfit Lily's sure she's scrolled past several times on Instagram – short black dress, long brown coat, platform trainers. She looks like an effortlessly cool girl. Lily feels like complete shit for the comparisons she's drawing in her head.

Still, Lily skims the article for information. Lots of rambling about James' transfer situation. His needing a date to relax in the midst of all the drama. A pointless description of their outfits, though they can be seen in the pictures. It takes the writer until the fourth paragraph to mention that the girl's name is Cecilia Nash and that she plays for Chelsea Women's U21 squad. Lily feels an itch of irritation, a pang of sympathy for Cecilia for a brief moment – James gets to be Chelsea star James Potter in the headline, and she gets mystery blonde and then her name four paragraphs in. That's what reminds Lily of the garbage she's reading, and she immediately closes the article and hands the phone back to Marlene.

"I don't know her," she tells her friends. "James hasn't mentioned anything about her." And as she says it, Lily realizes that is the source of her irritation. The past few weeks, James has barely hung out with her, always making some excuse about being busy. Had this been why all along? And why couldn't he just tell her that instead of skirting around it and making up excuses?

"She's hot. If they are dating, good for him," Mary says, going back to styling her hair. Lily can't help the prickle of irritation she feels at that.

For a moment, she considers sending James the article, jokingly asking him about it. But she shuts that idea down quickly. It's transparent and desperate and nosy. If he's dating someone, he'll tell her about it whenever he feels like it. Not to mention that James hardly appreciates these types of articles. He'd been so apologetic when he told her there was nothing to be done about the articles with her in it, what would he think if she made a joke of this one? And speaking of…

"She plays for a Chelsea team," Lily reasons out loud. "They're probably just friends who know each other through their club. Remember the articles about me and James? Tabloids take shit out of context all the time." The thought makes her feel a little bit better.

"Nope," Marlene interrupts. "She actually is his ex, I found her on Instagram. Look." She leans over again, showing them Cecilia's Instagram profile.

In proper pictures, she's gorgeous, with big sea blue eyes and a pageant smile. Like James' account, there's a lot of her in Chelsea blue, pictures from matches and training. But there's also regular pictures, ones of her on a night out or hanging out with her friends and lots with a golden retriever. But there, at the bottom of the row, Lily's eyes land on what Marlene meant to show them. She taps on the picture.

Cecelia kissing James' cheek as he grins at the camera. The caption reads "Hattrick! Congratulations on a massive game baby!" followed by tons of heart-eyes and kissy face emojis. Baby. So they really were together?

There's not many pictures of them together. A few dating back to last summer. A group picture, Cecilia in James' lap. He has an arm around her shoulders and a beer bottle in hand. One of him laughing while he gives her a piggyback ride, her arms wrapped around his neck from behind. There's not many… but they're all cute and couple-y and fill Lily with an irrational sense of jealousy. James' Instagram – which she had already been through, top to bottom – featured no pictures of her. He likely deleted them all after they broke up, like a normal person. But were they back together now?

Lily feels… a bit angry, oddly enough. Lied to. She has no right to, she knows. But she feels it anyways. Is this why he'd been neglecting her? You have no right to feel this way, she reminds herself again. She's his friend, but surely his girlfriend would expect to be prioritized in his limited free time. And whether he feels comfortable talking about it or not is his own choice, and none of her business besides.

"It feels kind of gross to read gossip about someone you actually know and stalk the people in the article on social media," Mary says, her nose wrinkled in distaste. Lily instantly closes the app and passes the phone back to Marlene again. It's true. She feels a bit sick, grossed out by her own behaviour. Guilty. "Good thing nobody found out your name when yours came out."

"I know. It's so weird, but I'm also so curious. I was just trying to see if there was transfer news," Marlene says.

"We could just ask him, or Lily. We actually know him," Mary argues.

"I guess you're right. What did James say about those articles about you two anyways?" Marlene asks, tossing her phone aside and picking up her bronzer again, turning back to the mirror.

"I told you guys," Lily says, getting back to her own makeup. "There wasn't really anything he could do."

"No like, what did he think about it? Was he mad? Did he think it was funny?" Marlene pushes.

"Oh. I don't know. He didn't think it was a big deal. It was a little funny. We kinda just talked about how the tabloids are stupid and how nice it is that we can be friends after how things started with us."

Mary snorts. "You're kidding? He said that?"

Lily pauses. "Well, no. I said that."

Marlene puts her brush down and turns to Lily, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "What exactly did you say?"

"Um, just like how I had a crush on him at first but it's nice that we can be friends now and it's not awkward. Why?" There's some apprehension creeping into Lily's tone at her friends' odd reaction.

"Oh God. And what did he say to that?" Mary asks.

"Nothing? That he agrees?"

"That's all?" Marlene presses.

"Yes! Why are you guys being so weird about this?"

"I don't understand how you're so smart but also so dense, Lily," Mary sighs. "James likes you. A lot. I don't know how it's not obvious to you, but it is to everyone else. You probably hurt his feelings."

Lily laughs at that, instantly relaxing. "Shut up, he's way over that. That was like, way at the beginning. He knows we're just friends now."

"Oh yeah," Marlene snorts. "I'm sure you drove that fact all the way home."

"I'm telling you, I know him. That's not what's going on." But as Lily thinks back on their conversation… had there been a flicker of irritation in James' tone? And hadn't he been a bit quiet on the drive to her apartment? She had assumed it was just because he was tired and having a rough time after Chelsea got knocked out of the UCL, but could it have been something more?

"Why are you so set on arguing against it? It's obvious you like him too. Just tell him and fuck already," Mary suggests nonchalantly, as if it's the most casual and obvious thing in the world.

Lily sighs in exasperation. "Are you ever going to let this go?"

Mary shrugs. "Are you ever going to admit you have feelings for him?" she counters. "What were you trying to do that night anyways? Were you hoping he'd contradict you?" Brutally honest like she always is. But in the moment, Lily doesn't appreciate it.

Perhaps Mary's theory hits a little too close to home. Maybe she had been hoping for a contradiction. Maybe she had secretly hoped he would disagree, take the reigns, say the articles weren't that off base actually, that he does want more than friendship.

Or had she wanted a confirmation that they're better off as friends, so she could put the idea to bed for good? It would be a lie to say the thought of their relationship evolving into something more hadn't been crossing her mind worryingly often lately, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. Wasn't it bound to, with the amount of time they spent together and how close they'd gotten in such a short amount of time?

She's honestly not sure what exactly she had hoped for, but she can be honest enough with herself to admit that she had hoped for something. Some sort of indication, one way or another. But she also hadn't been lying when she said the articles unnerved her. She didn't know then and she doesn't know now if she can handle anything more than being James' friend.

"I don't know," Lily admits. It's a step above the instant denial she'd usually resort to. Mary and Marlene both stop what they're doing to look at her. "Maybe I wanted him to tell me he agrees so I stop thinking about this completely."

"And he did. So did it work?" Mary asks.

"No," Lily sighs sullenly. "I fucking hate this, but it's all I think about. And now that you've brought this up, I'm going to obsessively think about whether this is the reason he's been so weird lately or if it's because of his mystery blonde or if it really is just football and contract shit."

"Why can't you just talk to him about this?" Marlene asks. "I think everyone knows there's something going on with you two. You practically already act like a couple."

"Clearly not," Lily snaps, her tone bitter. "Apparently he's dating Cecilia Nash."

Mary snickers. "Apparently he was dating you too a few weeks ago. Don't be that loser, Lily. Just talk to him."

"And tell him what? To stay on hold while I figure out if I actually like him or not?"

Mary gives Marlene an exaggerated, exasperated look over Lily's shoulder. "I can tell you that for free, idiot. You do like him. That's why we're having this conversation."

"And he likes you too," Marlene adds. "I don't understand why you won't just tell him."

"Well why doesn't he just tell me, then?" Lily snaps stubbornly, the bite in her voice unconvincing with the pout on her face.

"Um, because you told him several times now that you only want to be friends and he probably wants to respect that? It has to be you, and that's your own fault," Mary answers, like it's simple and obvious. And maybe it is. Except… well, no. It's not.

"It's not that simple," Lily insists, frustrated that her friends don't seem to understand the complexity of the situation. "Like, okay, do I think he's gorgeous and cute and fun and really nice? Sure. But so is Sirius and lots of other people. So are you, and that doesn't mean I want to date you. And maybe he still likes me too, but whatever you say, I don't know that for sure. What if I say something and he doesn't feel that way or he doesn't want anything more, then what? How am I supposed to stay friends with him after that? Or what if he does feel the same, and then like… I don't know. What if he gets so famous that he gets bored of me? And we're not even together and I made it into the tabloids just for being near him. And he barely has any time as it is, the only thing he cares about is his career."

Lily's not even sure where the outburst comes from. Maybe it's months of dancing on the edge of something coming to a head. Weeks and weeks of repressing her feelings and her thoughts. The anxiety of losing a friendship that means so much to her. She feels a vague sense of embarrassment, but more than that, relief. It's out there. It's been said out loud, it's real and someone else knows. That, at least, feels kind of good even if nothing else about this situation does.

"Oh," Mary breathes, finally understanding Lily's reservations. She probably knew anyways, Mary always does. She laughs lightly. "That's what this is. But Lily, he is famous, and there's nothing you can do about it. I guess you just have to decide if he's worth the trouble or not."

And that's just it, isn't it? Is this worth the trouble she knows it will bring?

"Right. And I don't know if I have yet."

Marlene sighs and leans down to join Lily on the floor, dropping an affectionate kiss into her hair. "You're so silly. Just finish getting ready, we'll figure this out later."

Lily nods, grateful for the change of topic and the distraction. Grateful to her friends for pushing her just far enough, but not any farther than that.

x.x.x.x.x

The party is 90's themed, and everyone has been instructed to dress accordingly.

Marlene's look is what she's calling Slutty Clueless – a short, yellow plaid skirt paired with thigh high boots and a crop top. Mary is also wearing a crop top, but under denim overalls with one strap loose.

Lily's entire look revolves around an amazing pair of white leather high heeled platform boots she found in a vintage shop. They zip up to her knees and give her instant Baby Spice vibes. She's paired them with a baby pink spaghetti strap bodycon dress, and left half her hair down and put the rest up in a high ponytail.

The entryway in their apartment has a full length mirror that the girls use to check themselves out and take selfies in once they're ready. Lily's first thought when she takes in her completed look is, I look fucking incredible. The second is, James is going to love this. And that throws her for a loop.

She's picturing him walking into the apartment when the party is in full swing. The living room will be packed, full of people drinking and dancing. She's not sure why exactly, but in this fantasy, Ice Ice Baby is playing. James immediately spots her across the crowded room, and his eyes widen as he looks her over head to toe. He mouths wow at her as he makes his way across the room.

And there's no point in catching her thoughts, or trying to deny it. That's exactly how she wants him to react.

She's not sure why, exactly. She'd given him a chance to give her some sort of indication of wanting more, and he hadn't. She's not even sure of her own feelings yet. In fact, she's done a great job of convincing both James and herself that friends is all they can be.

Still. In spite of herself, Lily wants James to see her and for one moment, she wants him to feel the way she feels when she sees him. She wants him to think, holy shit, she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen. She knows how many girls want him. The internet is full of girls thirsting after him, and sometimes she catches people looking at him in public, and they don't even know the wonderful person that belongs to that face and body. She wants every girl at the party to want James, and for James to want her. If only for that one moment.

Lily spends half the party glancing at the door, waiting for James to walk in. Like a teenager out of a 90's high school rom com. It's ridiculous, and she doesn't have the energy to fight it.

She knows he's going to arrive pretty late in the evening – Chelsea had played a game in Liverpool that morning, and it would take him a while to make it back home. She'd watched the game between chores and homework in the morning. James was subbed on with fifteen minutes left to play. He'd played well, created a few chances. But nothing really came of it, and the match ended in a 2-2 draw. It left Chelsea in the precarious position of being up by only 3 points with two games left to play of the season.

The cameras had gone to James several times while he sat on the bench. He did a good job of hiding it, but Lily knows him, and she could recognize his frustration. The slightly tenser set of his jaw, almost unnoticeable. The foot tapping, the way he pulled on the ends of his hair with his fingers when he ran his hand through it – that was his most recognizable fidget.

She's anticipating that he'll be tired and not all that happy, but Lily's hoping the party gets him to loosen up a bit. James is rarely in a good mood lately, and it's so unnerving to see him so subdued knowing how cheerful and fun he normally is. Worse still, along with being frustrated and tired, he seems sad. She understands, of course – it can't be easy to have your very near future up in the air like this. Even worse is he doesn't seem to want to talk to her about it anymore, which stings and fills her with all sorts of worst case scenarios, like the ever present worry of his life outgrowing her. But she pushes the anxiety of losing her place in his life out of her mind by force.

When James does arrive, it's Lily's eyes that land on him instantly, and Lily's breath that catches in her throat. He's wearing faded jeans, a Nirvana shirt with the sleeves cut off, and combat boots. He also has a bandana wrapped around his hair like a headband, and that's the bit that does it.

Fuck, he looks so good. The bandana headband is so god damn cute, but then she catches sight of his bare arms, and Lily knows immediately that was definitely a well thought out move. James is a professional athlete. He's a lot more fit than the average person. And his arms… his fucking arms. Shit, he's seen her and he's coming over and she's not over his bandana or his fucking arms! Damn him, it was supposed to be the opposite!

When James comes closer though, his eyes do widen just a fraction. He grins appreciatively as he walks up to Lily. "Holy shit. You look nice, Ginger Spice."

Lily smiles, pleased, and goes in for a hug. "I was going for Baby Spice, actually."

"I don't know the difference besides that one is ginger," James admits.

Lily laughs and reaches up to tap his bandana. "I like this. Is the shirt vintage?"

"Straight out of 1992, it's older than me. The place looks so good, by the way. Sorry I couldn't help."

"Don't worry about it, you were obviously busy. How was your game?"

James shrugs. "Fine. Where's Marly? I wanna wish her a happy birthday, I probably won't see her on Tuesday." Tuesday is Marlene's actual birthday. Lily wants to press him on the vague fine, because she wants him to talk to her. But it's a party, and he obviously doesn't want to talk about his fine day. She wants to pout and ask him to dance with her first… but this isn't about her, so she fights down the urge to do either.

"Last I saw her, Sirius was trying to convince her to take 19 shots to celebrate 19 years of life."

"Oh my god. My friend is trying to kill your friend."

Lily snickers. "If she does it, she might deserve it."

James laughs. "Probably, but I'm gonna go save her life anyways." He turns to go find Marlene, but stops and looks back at her. "You really do look fucking amazing."

Lily can feel her cheeks heating up already. She wants to make a lighthearted joke, but all that comes out is a breathy "Thank you."

x.x.x.x.x

"Having fun?" Sirius drawls, nudging Lily's shoulder playfully. Lily is leaning against the wall next to the living room window, enjoying the cool air and slowly working her way through the nasty concoction in her cup – Sirius had made it, and she really should have known better than to let him. Sirius follows her gaze, fixated on James. "You're in the same spot I left you in fifteen minutes ago."

"How long has he known her?" Lily asks instead of answering, referring to the girl James is currently talking to. By the looks of it, they've been friends for a good long time.

Sirius tilts his head thoughtfully. "Dunno. Maybe seven minutes?" Lily scoffs. Sirius laughs, not even trying to disguise his amusement. "Why? Are you jealous?"

Lily's shoulders stiffen slightly. She's vaguely aware that it's dangerous, behaving like this next to James' best friend. She feels powerless to stop it, though. Not with this much alcohol in her system. Again, she ignores his question in favour of asking her own. "Is he always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like… you know. Such a flirt?"

Sirius lets out a real laugh at that. "I mean, kind of? He definitely used to be. He doesn't have quite as much time anymore though."

Lily has seen a side of James tonight that she never has before. It started off a bit rocky – they had failed to consider that this party would be full of people who did not know him, but knew of James. Lily had spotted a couple of people surreptitiously recording him for their Instagram or Snapchat stories. Everybody seemed to want to talk to him, some even asked for selfies.

For his part, James had taken it in his stride, but Lily could tell he felt a little uncomfortable. She felt bad. He had been up since early in the morning and aside from the match, she wasn't sure how his day had gone. He seemed tired. But he'd still talked to everybody, still smiled for pictures, and laughed along to conversations. After a while, when the excitement over him subsided a little and it looked like he was actually starting to have fun, Lily finally felt like she too could start having fun again.

Except that she didn't. Lily has seen James when he's alone with her, James with his friends, James on TV when he's in his element as a football player. She has never seen James like this: at a party, surrounded by people his own age. Maybe it's because their own first meeting had been so absurd and they'd fallen into an isolated friendship so quickly, but it kind of takes her by surprise that James is a massive flirt.

It's so easy for him to talk to everyone, so easy for him to fall into conversations with people he doesn't know. It makes sense, of course. He's very attractive, extremely charming, hardly short on confidence, and everyone here already wants to talk to him.

Lily also sees a side of herself she's not all too familiar with: the side that feels a sudden, powerful, vicious jealousy that roils in her gut when she sees him flirting with other girls. Maybe if she were more sober, this would terrify her more. In the morning if she remembers the feeling, it certainly will.

Lily takes another sip of her drink, making a face at the bitter taste. Her thoughts are getting fuzzy around the edges, she could probably stop drinking for the night. Probably should, in fact. Lily takes another, larger gulp and flips the cup upside down to indicate that it's empty. Then she turns her head to glance at Sirius.

"Can I tell you something?" Lily asks.

"I'd really prefer it if you didn't," Sirius answers easily.

"I think I am jealous," Lily whispers anyways.

Sirius looks mildly surprised at the admission, but he rolls his eyes. "I already knew that."

"I think I should tell him."

"I think you shouldn't when you're drunk."

"I'm not that drunk."

"You're drunk enough."

"Who's Cecilia, by the way?" Lily blurts. She realizes right away, but a second too late, that she probably shouldn't have.

Sirius looks proper surprised at that. "James told you about her?"

"Not exactly."

Sirius raises an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

Lily looks away guiltily. "Kinda read about her online. By accident."

Sirius' gaze hardens. "How does that happen by accident?"

"It just came up on twitter," Lily mumbles.

"So you accidentally came across it and then accidentally clicked the link and then accidentally read it?"

"I know, I get it. I shouldn't have," Lily sighs, her tone almost whiny, hoping for some pity or understanding. A tall order for Sirius, though if she weren't drunk she wouldn't blame him.

"You're right," Sirius snaps. "You shouldn't have. Maybe instead of sulking in a corner all night at your friend's birthday party and reading gossip about James on the internet, you should stop lying to him and yourself and just talk to him like an adult."

Lily straightens up, surprised by Sirius' sharp tone. She's used to Sirius' dry quips and sarcasm, but not his anger. It snaps her out of her haze a bit. "I'm not lying to myself," she snaps back defensively.

"Great, then you're just leading him on?"

Lily's mouth drops open. "Leading him on? What the hell are you talking about?"

Sirius rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the wall. "Like you don't know what you're doing. Grow up, Lily." And with that, he walks away, leaving Lily stunned and fuming.

Fired up after that, Lily downs another drink, and then maybe a couple more. And then she scouts the room for James. She scouts the room for Sirius too, because as fired up as she is, she's not in the mood to deal with his wrath. She finds Sirius making out with Hestia on the balcony and decides she's safe for the night, and then she finds James on the sofa next to Mary and some of her friends, talking about something she's not interested in finding out about. Instead she holds her arms out to him as she approaches.

x.x.x.x.x

Around half past midnight, James is… well, tired hardly begins to cover it.

Even though he'd played less than twenty minutes of the game that afternoon, he'd woken up so early, and even twenty minutes of football against Liverpool was hard on his body. There was still warm up, and the gym, and the flight back and the drive home from the airport. And he'd been training all week before that. If he's being honest, he just feels drained, and he has for weeks.

He's half heartedly keeping up a conversation with Mary and some of her friends, but all he wants to do is go home and sleep. The party is still in full swing though, all around him are people drinking and dancing and laughing. And although James has had fun so far, it's harder to keep having fun with every passing minute.

His limbs feel stiff, his eyes feel heavy. He's so tired he considers asking Lily if he can just go to sleep in her bed, he's exhausted enough that he probably could even through all the noise. Just as the thought crosses his mind, he spots Lily coming towards him. The sight of her knocks the breath out of his chest, like always except a little more violently today. She looks so hot in that dress, he's halfway lost his mind just from the glimpses of her he's caught across the room all night.

"James!" Lily squeals, her arms outstretched. He hasn't really seen much of her tonight. To be fair, that might be because he has been making a slightly conscious effort to avoid her. But he can't help smiling at her now. Her hair has gotten messier since a few hours ago and the makeup around her eyes has smudged and her cheeks are red. She's never looked prettier – and that's saying something, because she always looks so devastatingly pretty. "Come dance with me," she says, grabbing both of his hands before he can answer and pulling him off the sofa and through the crowd, walking backwards. It's just as well. He really can't say no to her anyways.

Lily is completely has had a little to drink tonight too, because it's a party and the season is almost over and he has tomorrow off and anyways, it's not much. He hardly feels it. But Lily is well past drunk.

"You look like you're having fun," he says, letting her tug him along. Lily, having already walked into every single person in her path, finally realizes she should face the direction she's headed in. She drops one of his hands and turns around.

"You look like you're not!" She stops suddenly and he walks into her back, which Lily evidently finds hilarious, because she bursts into a fit of giggles. She turns around to face him and throws both arms around his neck, leaning into him. She sways slowly, though Ice Ice Baby is blaring through the speakers. "You look tired."

James loops his arms around her waist, the movement casual but his heart pounding. "Nah, I'm good." Not good. Not fucking good.

"Liar. How come you're always lying now?"

James frowns, a little taken aback. "I am not."

"Mhm. You say nothing's the matter when I know you're upset."

James laughs lightly, chest constricting a little. He should know by now that he's not good at hiding anything. "Everyone does that."

"But not you to me," Lily says, her voice soft. She pulls back to look at him. "I'd make you feel better, you know."

James' lips turn up in a little smile, and he raises his eyebrows at her. "Yeah? How?"

"Dunno. But I'd figure it out." Lily sighs heavily. "You look so pretty."

"Pretty? That's the best compliment you could come up with?" James scoffs, but his heart kind of stutters anyways.

Lily's lips turn down into a frown. "I'm very drunk, you know. You don't know what it's like to be drunk."

"I miss that," James sighs.

"You're upset all the time now. I think you should get drunk and quit Chelsea."

James' lips twitch. "I don't solve my problems by quitting."

"Whatever. Sometimes you can quit if it's making you sad. You should be happy."

James stares down at her. The heels on her boots are so high, but she's still a good few inches shorter than him. She stares back up at him with her gorgeous green eyes, wide and earnest. It's so simple. You can quit if it's making you sad. You should be happy. "I'm not sad because of Chelsea. I'm not sad at all."

Lily shakes her head. "Stop lying to me. How come you keep lying?"

"I'm not –"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me!"

James rolls his eyes. "You're too drunk to know either way."

Lily pauses in consideration. "True. Do it in the morning."

"Okay. You won't remember this in the morning."

"I will. I have a perfect drunk memory, you know."

"I know for a fact that isn't true. I've seen you drunk. You're a fun drunk, and a little stupid. But horrible when you're hungover. And you don't remember shit."

"That's very rude of you." Lily reaches up and puts a hand on his cheek. "Pretty is a nice compliment, you know. You look very pretty."

James blows out a breath, slow and shaky. Drunk Lily is fun and stupid and an absolute menace. "Well, thank you. You look very pretty too. You always do."

Lily beams up at him. "Thank you!" Her expression darkens suddenly, and she drops her hand from his face. "I wish you spent more time with me today instead of other girls."

James stares at her. "Why?"

"Because I miss you, you asshole."

"You see me all the time."

"I see you barely ever and you hardly talk to me!"

James knows that she's drunk and probably has no idea what she's going on about, won't remember it in the morning. He knows any promises he makes her now are empty, because he can barely stand to be near her in this moment. But in the moment she looks so upset, he can't help but pull her a little closer to him and quietly reassure her. "I'm sorry. I've been busy, but I'll fix it, okay?" She won't remember anyways.

"Good," Lily says, resting her cheek against his chest. He wonders if she can hear the way his heart is pounding. "I'm scared of losing you," she confesses in a whisper.

"You won't," James assures her, his heart thumping painfully. "I'm scared of losing you too," he admits, and this at least is the truth. He's so terrified of losing her, of not knowing how to go on without her now. But this, the way she's acting right now when a few weeks ago she'd reiterated again that they are just friends and nothing more… it's wreaking havoc on his heart. He's confused, and he's frustrated.

Lily lifts her head and looks up at him. James wants to scream at the adoring look in her eyes. None of my other friends look at me like this.

"Then let's just not lose each other," Lily says quietly, but even in her drunken state, the words are firm. An appeal. A demand.

James blinks the haze from his eyes, refocuses on their surroundings that seemed to have blurred out of focus. The song playing is upbeat, the bodies around them moving much faster than the two of them. James breathes sharply through his nose, and then he grins at Lily, forcing their weird, out of place conversation from his mind. "I thought you wanted to dance?"

---

James runs onto the pitch, the sound of the crowd cheering washing over him. He feels the warmth of their welcome like an embrace. He feels it a lot these days. James is never on the starting lineup anymore, but he does get some playtime, and every time he subs on, the fans are thrilled. They have no reason not to be – every time he subs on, he delivers.

He melts into the game with more ease than he could have a few short months ago, his mind and body so in tune with the players around him now. When he plays, every other worry fades away. It doesn't matter that he's amazing in training day after day, amazing in play game after game, and still never winds up on the starting lineup anymore. It doesn't matter that even though Coleman is getting what he wants, he barely lays off him in training and the locker room is thick with tension. On the pitch, there is only James and the ball at his feet and the goal.

James dribbles around a Leicester City defender and makes a clean cross to Jordi. He can see where Jordi is headed long before he gets there, and is in position to accept the pass back just in time. He works around Leicester's defence, but they're tight and he knows they will have studied how he plays by now. He's sure a lot of teams have. Leicester is proving to be more of a challenge than they had anticipated, the game locked in a tie. The league has been competitive this season, and the difference in points at the top of the table is tight. It's stressful, but their final few games actually being a challenge when every win matters is exactly what James needs to focus. Exactly what he needs to prove a point.

James passes backwards to Amar when he sees he can't get through the maze of defenders ahead, and zips towards the goal faster than anyone else could get there, fast enough to accept Amar's pass back and shoot it with perfect accuracy and frightening force to the back of Leicester City's goal.

The crowd roars. His teammates rush towards him, limbs enveloping him. James lets the feeling wash over him, a soothing balm to the red hot anger that always simmers under his skin. Nine minutes to play, and he scored a goal. Nine minutes, and he made the difference. Whether it's passion for the game or fury that drives him, James is determined to make the most of every one of the increasingly limited seconds he gets on the pitch. And he always does.

He knows how many people are watching him. Football fans across the country, probably across Europe, but most importantly the ones clad in Chelsea blue. Coleman, who had played most of the game until a few minutes ago, probably seething now like the asshole he is. The Chelsea execs that had him benched for Coleman's sake. Aguado, who James is not sure what to think of anymore. Executives and managers at clubs across Europe, already drawing up offers for him to choose from.

James is angry, but he's never more effective than when he has something to prove. If anyone wants to try to fuck him over, he sure as hell won't make it easy.

x.x.x.x.x

"Another Man of the Match award. We're gonna have to get you a trophy room soon," Kingsley says by way of greeting as James gets in the passenger side of his car. Kingsley is picking him up at Cobham, where the Chelsea bus had dropped the team off from their trip to Leicester. James is grateful to not have to make the drive home to London after a long day of football and press and travel. He smiles at the pride in Kingsley's voice and on his face.

"It's only the third one."

"In about as many months. You astonish me every day."

James rests his head against the window as Kingsley starts driving. "Stop it, you're making me blush."

Kingsley chuckles. "I think we can probably count on adding Young Player of the Season to your collection soon, along with your first league title."

James actually shivers at his words. But he shakes his head tiredly. "Don't jinx it. I'm not counting on shit until it happens, I've learned my lesson."

He can see Kingsley glance at him from the corner of his eye, and doesn't have to look to picture the worry on his face. "You're so jaded already."

"Shouldn't you be glad? I'm sure my optimism was exhausting."

"Your optimism was well placed, you had every reason to be. None of this was your fault, James. It's just – "

"Politics," James interrupts. "I know."

As they do more often than he'd care to admit, James' thoughts wander back to the conversation he'd had with Aguado after that match against Juventus. Although he hadn't expected a man as dignified as Aguado to truly be apologetic, it had still been a little bit jarring, just how unaffected and stoic he was. He had, in a round about way that didn't directly place blame on anyone else, admitted to James that benching him for the entire game had not necessarily been what he wanted.

"Though it should be, it's not always in my hands." And other vague statements. James understands that Aguado can't directly speak against the board that employs him to a young player. But it had frustrated him all the same.

"I want to keep playing for you. I want to stay at Chelsea," James had said to him that day. "But not like this. I don't mean any disrespect, but we both know I deserved to play on Saturday. Is this going to keep happening?"

"I can't promise that it won't."

James had been candid. Maybe more so than he should have been without Kingsley present, but regardless of the way his decisions had been manipulated by the board, James trusted that Aguado valued him as a player. "If staying here isn't an option, then I need you to at least give me enough to show other clubs what I can do," James had stated firmly. "I deserve that much." Not a request. A statement of fact. A lot had changed in the past few months, James was no longer a starry eyed nervous mess before Aguado.

"Staying here is an option, James. A good one. You have a shot to develop here. You're exactly what the future of this club looks like."

"I hope so. But I guess we'll see how the rest of the season goes."

And he'd seen. With one match left to play, James had not played more than twenty-six minutes in a single match since Juventus, has not been on the starting lineup once. He doesn't quite know what to think anymore. He hasn't been completely sidelined, but he hasn't been given the minutes he knows he's earned. Can he count on that changing over time? Can he count on the future Aguado had promised? It wouldn't be immediate, clearly. But it could be a possibility. To James, it seems like Chelsea have made a decision. Yes, but not right now. Coleman now, Potter later. But can James trust that? Can he live with less than he wants, less than he knows he deserves for the love of a club and the desire to stay at home in London? He's not quite sure anymore.

"You should still be optimistic," Kingsley says, interrupting his thoughts and pulling him back to the present. "Your season is going well despite all the obstacles. You still have every option on the table. You have an incredibly bright future ahead of you, regardless of what club you play at. It's okay if this one isn't the right fit."

James shrugs. "It's still the one I wanted. I wish I could just let it go, but I can't."

Kingsley sighs. "I know, and it's not over yet. But trust me on this. When the right offer comes, whether it's from Chelsea or another club, you'll see it right away. It'll be an easy decision."

James sighs. "I fucking hope so."

After thinking himself into the ground, making pros and cons lists and talking it out with anyone who would listen, only to end up more lost than he'd been to start… James wants nothing more than an easy decision.

---

hey! just emailed you some info about a couple people from sleekeazy research that might be able to help you with your proposal

mum's been so busy with work and stuff idk when she'll be able to do dinner with us but i figured you'd need this soon

but she let them now about you so they won't be shocked to hear from you

hope it helps!

Lily reads over the text messages from James, and then opens up her email to see what he sent. She was expecting a name and an email, which are there of course. But there's also a little blurb about each contact, a description of their role, what they do, the kind of research they've done (including a few links to published work) and how James thinks they might be able to help. She knows James wrote it, because there's helpful little bits like "badass beard, bit of an asshole though tbh but you're smart so he'll like you." It's so sweet and helpful, she can't help the huge smile on her face and the warmth spreading through her chest.

Thank you so much! I really appreciate this, esp the detailed descriptions. Will make sure to work some of it into my emails to them.

np! happy to help

It's too bad about dinner tho :( I wanted to meet your mum.

maybe when things calm down a bit. poor woman will have to be a soccer mom for her entire life AND married to my father

Yikes. Thoughts and prayers, Mrs. Potter.

Wanna grab dinner tonight? I'm off work at 6. Haven't seen you in a bit, I miss you :(

Lily chews on her lip anxiously, finger hovering over the send button for a split second before she taps it. It's silly to even think about it, it's just James. But since Marlene's party, she'd only seen James at the Rabbit Hole on Thursday, almost a week ago now. And he'd been so distant again. She'd heard from Mary that she'd been slightly embarrassing at the party, jealous and clingy. Lily has blurry memories of throwing her arms around James and saying some questionable things she probably wouldn't say sober… but it couldn't have been that bad. He hadn't completely shunned her from his life, anyways. They've been texting and it's been more or less normal, at least not any different than since before the party. Sirius is still a bit irritated with her, but that much she understands. She had crossed a line, and by the looks of it, he hadn't gone as far as telling James about it, which she appreciates.

Still, it's been a while since she and James have really hung out, just the two of them. He's so caught up with training for the last push of the season and contract negotiations, he hasn't even picked her up from work in a while. She really does miss him. She just wants to spend a few hours catching up, venting to him and listening to him vent, talking shit about Coleman and cracking jokes about their friends. More than anything, she wants the awkwardness and the distance to dissipate, she wants to feel close to him again, she wants their relationship to feel comfortable and normal.

A few slow, anxious minutes pass before he replies.

sure. i'll pick you up

i miss you too

Lily blows out a breath.

yay! see you in a bit

She pockets her phone and gets back to work.

x.x.x.x.x

"So Sirius and Hestia are finally officially together?"

James swallows down the mouthful of his burger and shrugs. "I mean technically, no. They're not into labels, or whatever. But don't try to set either of them up with someone else if you don't want to die."

The evening has been so nice so far, exactly what Lily has been craving. They'd listened to Lily's Spotify library on shuffle on the drive to James' favourite burger joint, James predictably talking shit about all her choices but singing along anyways. He had a lot of shit to say about the Jonas Brothers for someone who knows every single word to When You Look Me in the Eyes. Blood, Sweat & Tears by BTS though, a masterpiece and an instant add to his own playlist. The second time he looped the song, he incorrectly sang the Korean lyrics, but he was so excited when he passionately sang "I want that money, money, money!" that Lily let it slide.

They picked up their orders, and then walked the short distance to a park in the area to enjoy the warm spring evening. Seated on the soft grass, the sounds of Londoners in the distance taking advantage of the warming weather a calming soundtrack, James had just finished recounting the uncomfortable evening he'd spent stuck in the middle as Sirius and Hestia hashed out their confounding relationship. They eventually came to a non-conclusion that seemed to make sense to them, but no one else. And Sirius has the nerve to judge her.

Lily takes a long sip of her milkshake. "As long as they're happy, I guess."

"Yeah, that's what I said. I don't have the energy to figure out his relationships, I can barely sort out mine."

Lily quirks an eyebrow. "Oh? What relationships are you trying to sort out?" she asks casually, as if her heart didn't just lurch into her throat.

James laughs lightly. "All of them. How's the proposal coming along?"

"Okay, I guess. I'm a bit lost but Dr. Green has been helping me out, and hopefully the contacts you sent me will help. It's so much effort, and I kind of actually want it now."

"You've got lots of time, and you're brilliant. I'm sure it'll turn out well. Did you talk to Genie about picking up more hours in the summer?"

Lily nods. "She said she'll sort something out. I really don't want to go home in the summer, there's nothing to do. Obviously getting the grant and doing some paid research is ideal, but I'd be a research assistant for free too if I have to."

"Plus I'd miss your shitty cappuccinos if you leave," James adds.

Lily tosses a chip at him, but James just catches it and eats it. "Yeah, that's the major concern here. Your cappuccinos."

James grins cheekily at her. "You getting valuable research experience on the way to changing the world comes in at a close second."

Lily laughs. "I'm excited. I've never spent summer outside of Cokeworth. There's so much I haven't gotten to do in London yet because I'm always so busy with school. I haven't even been on the London Eye!"

"What?" James looks a bit scandalized. "You should have told me! We'll go on the weekend after my match."

"Ohh, the last one of the season. Are you excited? Nervous?"

James thinks about it for a second, and then he shrugs. "I'm a little sad, to be honest."

Lily frowns at him. "Why? You've had an amazing season and the title pretty much on lock."

"It might be my last game at Stamford Bridge. As a Chelsea player, at least."

"It won't be," Lily says with confidence. There isn't a single part of her mind that believes it won't work out. He's James Potter. Of course it's going to work out.

"I guess we're gonna know soon one way or another. We'll probably make our decision before the match."

Lily feels her stomach take a nervous dip. "Really? So soon?"

James nods. "I want something lined up as soon as the transfer window opens up so I can take a proper rest without stressing, and then start training with my club right away. Whether that's Chelsea or somewhere else. We're done fucking around and negotiating, Kingsley asked Chelsea for a final offer this week. I'll know if it's a yes or a no when I see it, and then we can make a final choice. So this is really it."

"Fuck," Lily breathes. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm going to vomit all the time. I'm nervous as hell for what they're going to give me. I really want to stay, but I'm not going to if it's not good enough."

Lily lets that statement sink in. But she doesn't want to think about the possibility of him leaving, she's still certain he'll get what he wants. They'd be insane to let him go. "It'll be fine. You'll get what you deserve."

James smiles stiffly. "One way or another, yeah. I'm relieved too. This whole ordeal has been so stressful, I'm ready for it to be over."

"I bet." Lily hesitates for a moment, and then asks, "Have you talked to your dad at all?"

James instantly stiffens, his gaze dropping from Lily back to his food. "Nope. Mum finally did though, and she said he's sorry, but I don't really care anymore. And I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Lily says quietly, not really sure what else to say. She can see James' mood instantly dip at the mention, and regrets bringing him up at all. "Of course you don't. I'm sorry."

James shakes his head. "No, it's fine, I just don't like to think about it. I'll handle that once the contract situation and the league title are out of the way. It's too much to think about all at once."

"I understand. You should do something fun to keep your mind off it."

James nudges her shoulder lightly with his own. "I am, I'm hanging out with you."

"Okay, but I mean like, actually fun. You hang out with me all the time."

"I could use a real vacation," James agrees. "But that will have to wait until my break."

"Do another game night. Or go on a date, or something," Lily suggests. She's not sure why she suggests that. Maybe she's testing his reaction. Maybe she's just stupid.

James laughs, the sound a little strained. "Yes, because as you've seen, I have a ton of time for dating."

For reasons she can't explain, Lily feels a prickle of irritation. And she knows she shouldn't, knows it's a terrible idea to bring this up now, but Lily can't help it. Her confusing feelings and the thoughts that have occupied her mind for days are becoming unbearable, and she needs to know. "What about Cecilia?"

James glances at Lily, and she can see it on his face as the words register, sees him rapidly sort through their conversations, trying to remember when he'd brought up Cecilia. He hadn't, she knows. But maybe he'll assume he has at some point and just forgot.

"When did I mention Cecilia?" he asks carefully.

Shit. She has no choice now, she either lies to him or admits to her snooping. And she can't lie, not when she'd made it so clear how much she doesn't appreciate being lied to.

"I don't know if you did?" she begins innocently. "I might have just seen something online."

James looks a little apprehensive, his eyebrows knitting together. "What did you see?"

"Just, um… like, some articles. About you guys going out."

James crumples up the wrapper form his finished burger and wipes his hands on a napkin. He sits up a little straighter and quirks an eyebrow, looking almost amused. Almost. "Are you reading gossip about me?"

"No! Of course not," Lily says quickly, defensively. "It just came up on my timeline."

"Oh." James' shoulders relax a bit and he laughs lightly. "You didn't read it," he says, like it's the obvious conclusion.

Lily's gut twists guiltily. "I did skim through it, I was just curious. She's cute."

James' eyes instantly harden. "Why did you read it?" he asks plainly.

"I was just curious."

"Then why didn't you ask me?"

Lily is quiet for a moment, her heart starting to pound a little harder. He's mad, and he has every right to be. Why did she read it? Why did she bring this up now, when they were having such a good time together after so long? "I… I just thought it would be weird to ask about her."

She sees the flicker of irritation in James' eyes. "Why? Why would that be weird?" he presses, obviously not willing to let her off the hook so easily. She should have known better than to provoke him right now, when he's already on edge, already pulled so taut and ready to snap.

"I mean she's your ex," Lily begins nervously, but James interrupts her before she can continue.

"Did the article tell you that too?" James asks. She doesn't know what he sees on her face, but she must look extremely guilty, because he laughs bitterly. "Oh my god. Did you stalk her online too? Just like you did to me when we first met?"

"I didn't… it just… I just saw some stuff on Instagram," Lily admits, the panic rising. This is going somewhere she hadn't anticipated, though she obviously should have.

"Okay, so asking me about someone I was with is weird, but reading about us online and then creeping on her instagram isn't?"

"Okay, I'm sorry. I know it was wrong. I don't know why I did it!"

"Yeah, I don't either," James snaps. "Like you don't know how uncomfortable it is for me to have my life and career and future picked apart by strangers on the internet. Like you don't know how invasive it feels yourself! What if people had tried to track you down from those articles?"

"I'm sorry," Lily says again, feeling worse and worse the longer James talks. God, she's so stupid. Why did she do this, and why did she bring it up? It was wrong either way, and she knows that. But James didn't need to know, he didn't need to be upset by it, she'd never do it again anyways. Her stupid, ill placed, embarrassing jealousy. That's what causes this.

"It's ten times worse when people I know read that crap, by the way," James seethes, not at all finished. "I don't care if people I don't know are bored enough to care about trashy gossip blogs. But this… like, I don't get to look you up and see what you've been up to and where your life is going, I just have to talk to you to find that out. Now I have to worry about my friends reading shit about me online and coming to their own conclusions too?"

"James, I know, and I'm sorry. I wish I could take it back. I didn't go looking for it, it just came up. And I know it's unfair that you don't get the same privacy as the rest of us, I know it's even more invasive when people you know read it… I just, I saw it, and I couldn't ignore it."

"Why?" James asks. "What made this so hard to ignore?"

Lily stares at him imploringly, begging him silently to let this go. He won't though, not tonight.

"Do you want to know if I'm dating her?" James asks simply.

Lily swallows, and nods, because it's the truth and he knows it anyways.

"She's my ex. It wasn't really that serious of a relationship. We're friends now. We were just catching up, talked about our careers. That's it, and it's not any of your business but I would have told you anyways if you had just asked me. So why didn't you?"

"I don't know," Lily says, barely a whisper. "We've barely seen each other lately, you've been shutting me out – "

"I haven't been shutting you out, I've been busy. How is that relevant either way?"

"You have been! You make excuses not to hang out, you barely talk when you're at the Rabbit Hole, you pretty much ignored me all night at Marly's party!"

"I don't owe you my constant attention!" James snaps. "I'm fucking sorry I don't have the energy to constantly entertain you anymore. Is that what this is? You don't get enough attention from me so you feel the need to get your fix from gossip blogs?"

Lily recoils at his tone and his words. It's mean. It hits her where it hurts, scratches at an insecurity she's not ready to address.

Because that's just it, isn't it? James doesn't have the time, he doesn't have the energy to entertain her. His life is bigger than her now, his interests far beyond, and she's just grasping at straws. Watching and waiting for him to move on and forget her.

Lily has been trying her best to ignore the nagging anxiety, to soothe her worry. He's just had a lot on his plate, she constantly reminds herself. But then a little voice in the back of her mind says, what if it's something else? What if he's just tired of you?

That's not that hard to believe, either. James spends more time out of London than in it. In the short few months she's known him, he's travelled to more places than she's been to in her entire life. He has fans. He has articles written about him and pundits talking about him every week. He's at the centre of near constant media speculation. It's absurd, insane. It takes a pretty heavy toll on James, she knows… but it also reminds her that his life exists in a much larger world than hers. And that maybe his world is outgrowing her.

She hasn't been around long enough to have cemented her place in his life, not the way Sirius has. It's a thought that scares her, that makes her chest constrict painfully, because even if that is the case, he has still wormed his way so deeply into her life, Lily can't imagine it without him anymore. It would be terribly unfair for him to leave it now, when it would leave her so scarred.

And she's wanted to tell him all this so desperately, so he could laugh in that lighthearted way he has and throw his arm around her shoulders and give her a reassuring squeeze. He'd say, shut up, you loon. And that would be it. But now here she is, watching it unravel the other way.

"No," she says, feeling a pressure building behind her eyes. "I made a mistake, James. I know it was wrong, and I shouldn't have done it. All I meant is I didn't know if I could ask you because I didn't know when I'd see you. And I… felt weird asking you about your ex. It's not an excuse, I know. But it's what happened, and I said I'm sorry."

James breathes out heavily, tugging on the ends of his hair. "You didn't answer my question," he says. "Why were you so curious? Why couldn't you ask me about Cecilia?"

"Can we just let this go, please?" Lily pleads, desperately trying not to cry. James' chest is heaving, and he looks so upset. Lily wants to rewind, undo all of it.

"No, you clearly brought it up because you wanted an answer. I gave you one. So now answer me." When Lily says nothing, he huffs in frustration. "Is it because you're jealous? You don't like the thought of me dating someone else or asking me about them because you're jealous?"

"No," Lily snaps instantly, her defenses building back up, her irritation spiking. Why won't he just let it go? "Why the hell would I be jealous?"

James laughs incredulously. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

Lily scowls at him. "I'm dead serious. Why would I be jealous? That's not what this is about."

"What is it about then, Lily? Why did an article about me out with a girl bother you enough to stalk her online and then force it into our conversation when you could just as easily not have?"

"Why can't you believe that I was just curious? Why do you want me to be jealous?" Lily challenges.

James sighs heavily and stares up at the sky as if he's begging a higher power for patience. And then he stares back at Lily, gaze level and voice even when he says, "I don't want you to be jealous, I want you to admit you feel something for me."

Lily is so stunned at the honest confession, she's lost for words. That's it, really. That's all it is. He's just said exactly what she's been wanting to hear, exactly what she has been waiting for. She just needs to admit it. She can apologize for the rest later. But she can't, and she's silent long enough for James to speak again.

"I like you. So fucking much it's driving me insane. I want you to say you feel the same." There's a hint of desperation in his tone, barely there, like it's taking everything out of him to say this out loud. He looks vulnerable, laid bare, eyes wide and pleading.

It would be so easy. All she has to say is he's right, she does feel the same. But she can't even feel a hint of joy at him admitting he does have feelings for her, the fear that chokes her is so instantaneous and so powerful.

She's thinking again about her own immaturity, her own insane jealousy over a trashy tabloid article. Her own discomfort and fear when she had featured in them herself. Can she really live like that? She's thinking again about how quickly James' career is skyrocketing, how unpredictable everything about his life is. Can she live with that? Can she tie herself to someone whose life is so wild, so far from normal? Everything about it would be uncomfortable and terrifying. Does she have space in her life for this?

And then she thinks again about how busy he is, how focused on his career. How his mood changes as the season does, dropping when the points on the table do and rising when the goal count does. It's erratic, it's unstable, it's too much. His career could take him anywhere, and then what? She either puts her own life on the backburner to follow him, or she gets left behind, heartbroken and forgotten. Neither is an option's willing to accept.

"And if I don't?" Lily whispers, barely holding back her tears.

For a brief moment, James looks shocked at her answer. But then his eyes harden again. "You do," he insists.

"No, I don't," Lily says firmly. Because if the answer is still I don't know, she needs to drop this now. If the answer isn't yes at this point, that means it's no. It kills her, and she wants to scream at herself for being such a coward. She wants to claw into her throat and rip the fear that chokes her from its depths with her fingernails. When James' hard eyes flicker with emotion, with hurt, she wants to sob and beg him to understand, to forgive her, to convince her.

"Then what the fuck are you doing to me, Lily?" James asks, his tone defeated but his eyes blazing, angry.

"I'm not doing anything to you. I told you from the start I wanted to be friends. You said you were fine with that, and I thought you were."

"Things change," James grits out. "And my feelings did. I thought yours did too."

"Well, they didn't."

"So the way you talk to me, the way you act around me, that's nothing? The hours on the phone and falling asleep talking to me, the shit you say you can't tell anyone else about, the way you fucking look at me? Because none of my other friends act the way you do, and I'm sure you don't act like this with any of your other friends either."

"It's not my fault that your read more into things than you should have," Lily fires back defensively. And she knows it's not really fair, but she can't help being angry. Whether it's at him or at herself, she isn't sure, but she needs to let it out. The conversation never would have gotten this far anyways if he hadn't pushed it here.

"Yes it is!" James snaps. "You don't get to act innocent now. You get upset when I don't spend enough time with you, you get jealous when I talk to other girls, you obsess over girls I'm seen with. And what the hell were you doing at Marly's party? Friends don't act the way you do! If you don't feel anything for me, then all this time you've just been an asshole stringing me along."

"I didn't string you along, I acted like your friend and you made more of it than you needed to. That's on you," Lily says viciously, just wanting this conversation to end. "I don't want this. All the fucked up bullshit that comes with your fame, the tabloids and the drama."

"You didn't have a problem with the tabloids when you were reading them," James says with a scowl, but there's no bite in it. He just looks stung, and Lily wants to take back her words, but it's too late.

"This is… let's just forget this happened. I don't want to talk about this anymore," Lily begs, desperate. She knows exactly where this is going, and she's not ready. She wants to reel it back in, but the situation is too far gone to salvage.

James shakes his head, staring at her with a gut wrenching mix of disbelief, anger, hurt. "No. If you don't feel the same way that I do, fine, you don't have to. But I'm not doing this anymore."

Lily's heart sinks into her stomach and tears spring into her eyes. How the fuck did they get here? How did she let this happen? "Do what anymore?" she asks to prolong it, but she knows.

James motions between them with his hands, and then he gathers up the garbage from his meal and stands up. "Do you want a ride home?" he asks, and Lily wants to laugh and cry at the same time. She shakes her head. James swallows and stares at her as she gets up too. She sees the resolve building in his eyes. "I can't keep this up anymore, Lily. This… friendship, or whatever the fuck we've been doing. I like you so much, I want more with you. Even though I tried, I don't think I've been very subtle about it. It's all I can think about. And I wish that you felt the same, I wish you could see how good we are together so badly. I really thought it was obvious. I'm… I'm sorry, if I misread things. If you don't feel anything, that's okay, but I'm not pretending that I don't. And I can't keep pretending like I'm okay with being friends anymore."

Lily's crying, feels the hot tears on her cheeks, feels her throat burning and closing up. She wants to fix this, wants to apologize, wants to sit back down and explain everything she really feels even if it takes her hours. But she's so drained and she knows it's not worth it anyways. At most, it will only prolong the eventual permanent rift between them anyways. Whether it's the one she really wanted or not, Lily has made a decision, and she can't take it back now.

"Okay," she whispers through her tears. "I'm so sorry. I just – "

"It's alright," James interrupts. "I don't need more of an explanation. I understand."

"James – " she tries again, because she needs to say something, needs to soften this somehow. He means too much, he's too important to let go so completely like this, after the months they'd spent together. James looks so defeated and so sad, and there's a hard glint in his eye that makes her chest constrict tighter. She feels like her lungs are caving in.

"I know my situation is a little unique and it's a lot to deal with. I know you have a lot going on and don't need the added stress. I misread what was happening. I get it. You don't need to console me."

Lily says nothing, because what is there left to say now? James rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I'm… yeah. I'm gonna go home. Bye, Lily."

James turns around, and Lily watches him walk away.

---

I really had y'all waiting for almost 2 years just to give you this. I can't believe my audacity either.

Please leave a kudos if you enjoyed/felt pain/etc. Leave a comment with your thoughts. Come talk to me on tumblr (moonawrites). Please don't hate me, I'm sensitive :( See y'all soon with chapter 7, the chapter I have been waiting to write since I started this story. (Remember when I said this was slow burn? I meant slooooooow burn. But it's worth it, I promise).