A/N: It's been 2 entire months since I've written anything. I feel terrible about that. Hopefully this makes up for it... kinda? Start the new year right! Or something. Jesus, this is awful.

Requested by meet-me-onthe-equinox on tumblr as the title quote.

In all of the snide remarks, rude hand gestures, and bored sounding groans that Andy hears throughout the week, something never occurred to him. At least, it hadn't occurred to him yet. It hit him while April's off to grab lunch and he doesn't bring up until their burgers are half-finished. He makes note of the ketchup speckle at the corner of her lip and Andy isn't quite sure why.

"Hey so, y'know how you always hang out here?" Andy asks, waiting for a response that comes as a quirked eyebrow. He should know better to not be intentionally stupid - crap, already screwed this one up - but he continues anyways, "Anyways, I know you're... like, annoyed by people a lot. That's why you're so cool and weird-"

"Thank you," April interjects through a mouthful of burger.

Andy can't help but grin and laugh loudly. "See! So I don't get why you hang out with me."

"What d'you mean?" April sits back in her chair and Andy chuckles when she belches. Normally, he'd take that as a challenge or give her a high-five but his brain's working too fast to make his own burp anything but a pipsqueak.

A passerby grimaces at April and Andy realizes that was absolutely the intended effect.

It wasn't that long ago that the thought of Ann and him in a garish burping contest would have been gross but for some reason, with April, this is different. Maybe it's the grease, cold coffee, and shoeshine getting to his head, but it's all so confusing.

"I mean, why're you so nice to me?"

She could answer that truthfully. Yes, April could explain to him that her crush has sunk her so deep that she's painfully jealous of somebody else over a guy and wishes sometimes that it was easier than this. Sometimes when she goes and hangs out at sleazy dance clubs on a Saturday, April pretends she's gotten over him and she'll arrive at work the following week free of so much care for him. Instead, she takes two or three free drinks and leaves under a cloud of anxious worrying in her head over this stupid shoeshine guy.

But she can't do that. No way in Hell will anything like that slip past layers and layers of carefully laid foundation.

I could just kiss him.

What a suggestion, brain!

Or, maybe, just tell him. Ask him out. It's still kitschy to ask a guy out for some reason.

"You're cool... and stuff," she mumbles through. "Cooler than any of these other weirdos." She elbows him gently, playfully.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks and April swears there's just a hint of disappointment there.

So she decides to add, "Way cooler than Mark was, for sure."

That earns a proper smile, just like earlier, and her breathing is sharp and difficult around the heat in her chest and the aggressive thudding of her heart.

So much for 'forget about him'