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Charlie sits at the base of a tree on the group’s picnic sheet. Next to her is Louis, who’s lying down, staring at the sky. A distance away from them are James, Lucian, and Amy playing football. She watches them laugh and run around with a smile. Seeing her brother playing and having fun to his heart’s content is a massive comfort. And seeing James without that stick up his butt is nice as well.
He’s been much more pleasant to be around lately. At first, that had merely been a relief. But then, she had inexplicably come to enjoy his company, something that well and truly surprised her.
And now, Charlie can comfortably label their relationship as amicable.
She looks down at her math homework and sighs. It sucks having to do schoolwork on an outing, but it’s better to finish it as soon as she can— homework piles up quickly when she’s got to work as well as take care of her brother. It’s alright though; multitasking is one of her specialties.
Angling her papers away from Louis (he would try to convince her to put it away and enjoy herself), she gets to work. After scribbling some numbers, she grabs one of the sandwiches to take a bite. The sandwiches they brought are a mix of homemade, courtesy of her and Lucian, and store bought, courtesy of James. He had, of course, bought those expensive ones, and she plans to take full advantage of that.
The next ten minutes or so are spent serenely, doing her work with her friends’ laughter and shouts as background noise.
Her peace is interrupted, however, when Louis sits up and, with the straightest face he can manage, asks, “Do you like-like James?”
Charlie shoots him an unimpressed look. “Are you high?”
“The only thing I get high off is annoying my friends.” His smile is obnoxiously innocent.
“Well, you’re doing a highly great job of that.”
“Really? Why does me asking that annoy you?”
“Because it’s a stupid question.”
“There's no such thing as a stupid question.”
“Yeah, except that one.” She rolls her eyes and turns back to the math work, loosening her death grip on her pencil.
“Oh c'mon!” Louis nudges her shoulder and scoots closer to her. “This is James, what's not to like?”
She gives him a blank stare. “. . .Are we talking about the same person?”
He raises an eyebrow, and Charlie feels compelled to add, “He’s egotistical, stuck-up, and a stalker and creep.”
“And?”
“He has anger management issues and an unnatural amount of paranoia.”
“Aaand?”
She takes a moment to think. “He had no issue blackmailing me. To be his errand boy, might I add.”
“. . .”
“. . .What?”
“I thought it’d be like the movies where you’d get all caught up and start saying good characteristics, you know, the stuff you like about him.”
“I’m pretty sure that only happens in movies, and those mangas Lisa reads.”
Louis shrugs, which Charlie takes as an acquiescence and they drop the subject. At least, Charlie assumes they did, because after a few minutes Louis adjusts his monocle and turns to her. “So, what is it about him that turns you off?”
She groans, and stares at him. “After everything I just listed, I think you should know the answer to that.”
He shrugs again and smiles. “Most of those don't really apply to him anymore, so I was wondering if you had any better reasons.”
Charlie. . .can't really argue with that. Most of the stuff she listed had been just so Louis would get off her back. James, while he is still a bit arrogant and annoying and hotheaded, has long since apologized for all his actions. And even though she hadn't told him to do anything of the sort, he had groveled a bit. She can't lie and say that it didn't feel satisfying.
Still, there is no way she's interested in him, so it doesn't matter. Deciding to ignore Louis in hopes of him dropping the subject, she doesn’t reply and fixes her eyes on her notebook.
She can feel his heavy stare on her. After a beat—"You’re not backing down, are you?”
“Nope.”
She huffs out a breath and looks at him quizzically. “Why are you so hung up on questioning me, anyway? Did you take it upon yourself to be James’ wingman or something?”
He grins at her knowingly, as if he’s in on some joke she is unaware of. “Yeah Charlie, that’s exactly it.”
“Well, I can’t say you’ll make much progress. With any girl, but especially me– James barely likes me platonically.”
Louis’s smile widens, and he looks on the verge of laughter.
Charlie squints at him suspiciously. He’s acting way weirder than usual. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just—”
They’re interrupted by James, Lucian, and Amy approaching and plopping down around them. Lucian falls to his knees next to her, dramatically splaying his limbs all over her lap and the picnic blanket. “Exhaustion gnaws on my bones, and I think my legs have turned to jelly. I fear I might be dying. Save me, my knight!” He borderline whines the last line, and she rolls her eyes fondly at his antics. Beside and across from her, Louis and James chuckle.
“Alright, Lucian.” Charlie grabs one of the homemade sandwiches that she knows he’ll like and dangles it in front of him. “Here’s some food to rejuvenate you.” He grabs it, thanks her, and starts chomping.
Amy giggles, then copies his dramatic display with her brother. “Save me too, James!”
James smiles sweetly at her and obliges her. He looks so caring and gentle that Charlie can’t help but smile too. His soft and protective side always comes out when Amy’s involved, something she can relate to. She runs her fingers through Lucian’s hair, all the while staunchly ignoring the weird eyebrow wiggle Louis was directing at her.
“So, how was the game?” she asks.
“It was awesome!” Amy says. “Lucian and I won.”
“No they didn't,” James objects, brushing a stray hair behind Amy's ear, “that last goal didn't count.”
Immediately, both kids begin loudly protesting, much to the older teens’ amusement. James, however, immediately stoops to their level and argues with them. Charlie chuckles at their resident children’s squabble (she counts James as one of the children, of course).
Eventually, they all calm down and enjoy their sandwiches. Louis and Lucian lead the conversation, and Charlie is content with that, occasionally putting in her two cents.
One odd thing she notices is how James' eyes will occasionally flit towards Louis and her as he eats his own sandwich, surprisingly one of the ones she made.
“This is really good,” he says after swallowing a bite. He gives her a genuine smile.
She ignores her sudden spike in heart rate and raises an eyebrow. “Really? I would’ve expected your taste buds to have a more ‘expensive’ palate.”
It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’re acting like I eat euros for breakfast, Summers.”
“So we’re back to surnames, Hardford?”
“Nah. I like it better when you say my name.”
This gives Charlie a pause. That. . .sounds suspiciously like flirting. She shakes the thought away, but the silence has dragged on long enough to feel awkward. She’s thankful when Louis breaks it.
“So, James, I asked Charlotte if she liked her new pet pig, and she wasn’t really sure.”
This random change of subject gives Charlie and James whiplash. “What? Who?” asks James, brows furrowed.
Louis gives him a look, then says pointedly, “You know. Charlotte. From your favorite farm.”
Charlie looks at James uncomprehendingly. “You have a favorite farm?” She didn’t even know he’d been to one in the first place let alone had a favorite.
“Uh. . .yeah?” His affirmation came out like a question as he shot Louis an inquiring look. “Of course I do. Because Louis, my best friend who knows me very well, says I have one, so it must be true.”
“Exactly,” his best friend says brightly. “And I just wanted to let you know she’s not quite sure about her new pet pig. Says that she thinks he’s kind of annoying, so she might not keep him. He’ll probably grow on her though, so don’t worry about it.”
James’ face looks more confused with every word that comes out of Louis’ mouth. Charlie is in the same boat, but doesn’t show it.
“Is this like Charlotte’s Web?” Lucian pipes up.
A pause, then–
“Louis, are you talking in a Charlotte’s Web metaphor?” asks Charlie, eyes narrowed.
“Isn’t life just one big metaphor?”
“. . .it’s too early for you to start getting philosophical.”
“I agree,” says James.
Louis sighs. “Well, I tried. Don’t go whining to me later.”
James shakes his head, bemused, and takes another bite of his sandwich. They chat some more (Amy takes control of the conversation and tells them about a dream she had) until the kids are finished eating. When Amy finishes her sandwich, Lucian begins needling James.
“C’mon James, let’s continue our game!”
“Yeah, c’mon,” Amy says, pulling on his arm.
He stubbornly refuses to move. “What, so you can kick that ball into my shins again? Besides, I just ate. Can’t we wait a bit?”
“No!” Lucian pulls on his other arm. “Get up!”
“Fine, fine! If I get indigestion it’ll be your fault.” He makes a big show of getting up and dusting himself off. The kids rush ahead and he follows them, but not before giving her a quick smile. As he follows them, he makes sure to complain loudly, but his words hold no real irritation.
Charlie finds herself. . .fond.
Once they’re all a good distance away, Charlie narrows her eyes at Louis and says, “So. What was so funny?”
His lips pull into a secret smile. “I’m not allowed to tell you.”
“Really?”
“Really. I've been both threatened and bribed, so it’s serious.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”
“Mildly.”
“Only mildly? I suppose that’s good news. . .”
He chuckles and nods. Then, he taps his chin with his index finger, eyebrows furrowed in mock thought. “Hmm. . .but I might be convinced to let something slip if you offered me something, in addition to keeping it a secret.”
“Like?”
“Oh I don’t know. . .” He glances at something just ahead of her. “One of those ham and cheese sandwiches, perhaps?”
“The homemade ones? You don’t want the expensive sandwiches?”
“Nope. I want to experience something made with the ingredient that all pre-packaged food lacks: love.”
“There was more rush and annoyance than ‘love’ put into it, but suit yourself.” She hands him one and he smiles thankfully at her. After taking a bite, however, he frowns. “You weren’t lying. What had you pissed off this morning?”
“You. It isn't that hard to text me the day before an event, you know. I had to learn from Lucian this morning about the picnic and I was rushing to get all those sandwiches done. Then I find out James already bought a bunch of them, probably worth more than my monthly salary.” She chuckles lightly at the irony.
He nods, then perks up. “Oh, that reminds me: it was James.”
Confusion paints her face. “What?”
He swallows another bite of the sandwich and says, light as air, “James was the one who told me to ask you.”
A moment, then her mind starts working. “He asked you to ask me if I like him?” Her voice is thick with disbelief.
“Like-like him, but yes. Remember, don't tell him I told you. I don't want him to make good on his threats,” he says with a chuckle, but Charlie isn't listening. She's in a state of foggy confusion and slight denial.
Why? Why would he do that?
Two answers come to mind, each as stomach churning as the next. Either he is regressing to his idiotic, paranoid self and thinks she’s obsessed with him or something stupid like that, or. . .
Or, he has a crush on her, and asked his best friend to find out if she reciprocates.
The latter, while still stomach-churning, feels much nicer. There are pleasant flutters in her abdomen and a quickened heartbeat and Charlie is mortified.
She would have punched her stomach to make it stop if Louis wasn't sitting next to her, and she wishes she had a mirror to discreetly check if her face is as red as it feels. What is with this reaction? If anything, she should be feeling mildly repulsed, or maybe just weirded out.
This is James, she tells herself. She repeats it, trying to sound disgusted or annoyed, but the more she did, the more that feeling grew. Because it’s James, and the thought of him liking her – while unfathomable at first —is acceptable. She can accept that.
But her? No! She doesn’t–she can’t possibly have fe—
She hears a cheerful yell and looks up. James seems to be celebrating a win. He’s grinning cheekily at the kids as he gloats, his dimples visible despite the distance. Those dimples do strange things to her chest, and that smile makes her feel like her face is on fire.
It hits her so hard she can’t possibly deny it.
I like him back.
. . .Crap.