Bad For Me -- kask


I’ve heard that at one point in a girl’s life, she falls for the bad boy. But I’ve never really believed it. I didn’t believe it because if it happened to every girl, then it would have to happen to me. And it wouldn’t. I’ve always been sensible. Well, sensible enough not to fall for some boy who was going to cause trouble, give me heartache.

Until I met you.

I knew your type the first second you opened your mouth on the train that day. I could see right through you. You held your nose up to everyone. Everyone except those you felt were worthy. And I knew to stay away from you. At eleven years old, I was smart enough to know to keep my distance. Whether it was because you were trouble or because I knew that I’d like it, I’m not sure.

I can see your reaction right now. “Come on, Evans, you think I’m a bad boy? Well, if that’s what you like, I can be way worse,� you’d say with a smirk. Just imagining those words on your lips makes me smile. I don’t know what it is about you, James. Something.

I never imagined it happening, but the truth is, I liked you before you even became interested in me. I never admitted it to anyone; I couldn’t. I had no one to tell. Severus would have killed me. And everyone else? I whined about you too much to admit to liking you. But I did.

I can pin it to second year, when you ended up sitting next to me in Charms. You had never really talked to me before, or at least not much. You were always too busy with your friends – everyone except me. And, of course, there was Severus. He got in the way of you and me. I mean, I don’t blame him; it’s just the way it was. You hated my best friend. It didn’t make very good conversation for us.

When Flitwick called your name, you walked over nonchalantly, barely taking note of me next to you. I remember because I took the chance to make a face in Alice’s direction.

I was curious about you, I’ll admit. So I snuck a few sideways glances. You dumped your books down and leaned back in your chair, face and body relaxed as you balanced on the two hind legs.

For weeks you did this. You threw your books down and leaned back, all while saying nothing to me. And what was I to say to you? Introduce myself? You knew me. Bring up the weather? The assignment? Mention how you stole the show at the last Quidditch match? I couldn’t. I was too proud. So I sat there, waiting for you to speak.

And I was ashamed. I was ashamed that I was so timid around you. I was never like that. I was proud of my friendly nature; I reveled meeting and talking to different people. But with you, it was different. I didn’t know how to talk to you.

So I’d watch you write notes to Sirius, answer questions in class, doodle pictures of brooms and Quaffles. I’d peek at your test grades – which were all surprisingly high – and wonder who you really were. I’d dream up your life, paint pictures of your parents and house, siblings and childhood. That was, until you finally spoke.

You looked casually at me, trying to read me. “I don’t understand why someone like you is friends with someone like Snape.� That was all you said.

I didn’t know how to answer. I should have gotten angry. I should have stood up for Severus. I should have demanded to know what you meant by your words. But I didn’t. Instead, I was flattered. My face turned a little pink and I smiled, disgustingly pleased.

“I…well…we’ve know each other for a while.� I looked up at you, expecting a reply, but you had already turned away to engage Coletta Miguel in conversation.

And we still didn’t speak much. Or ever, really. And it drove me nuts. I couldn’t figure out why you were so disinterested. You would talk to everyone around us. You’d have long discussions with the idiot in front of us, Kat Harper, who could barely string together a sentence but you wouldn’t even say a word to me while we practiced charms. This went on for four months. Four ridiculously long months.

Finally one day, when we had to practice with the person next to us, I turned to you. You weren’t looking my way. You seemed to be looking at nothing. It wasn’t as though your eyes were glazed in a daydream; you just seemed so unconcerned that it literally appeared that you were looking at nothing.

“Talk to me!� I finally said, a little louder than I had intended.

This captured your attention. You looked at me, surprised, like you were seeing me for the first time.

“What was that?�

I was a little flustered. I didn’t mean to sound quite so demanding…or so desperate.

“I meant, why don’t you ever talk to me?�

I could tell that I finally caught your attention. Even if it didn’t come through in your voice, I knew that you were interested. I could see a spark in your eyes.

“What would you like to talk about, Lily Evans?�

“I-I dunno. Anything. I just don’t understand why you won’t.�

You shrugged. “I figured your boyfriend wouldn’t like it if he found out.�

I didn’t understand what you meant until you flicked your jaw in the direction of Severus, who was glowering at us.

I furrowed my brow.

“First of all, James Potter, I talk to anyone I feel like talking to. Second of all, Severus is not my boyfriend. But even if he was, it’s none of your business.� I turned away from you, feeling pleased at my courage. I knew you would be taken aback, surely impressed.

After a minute or so, you laughed a little bit. “So, Evans, what do you think of the weather?�

I looked over at you, surprised. Surprised by your easy grin, by the luminosity in your eyes.

After that, I couldn’t get you to shut up. Not that I really wanted you to.

Things are different now. I’m not the twelve-year-old girl who was illogically attracted to a boy who wanted no part of her. I’m seventeen now. Seventeen and no longer bound to Severus, no long a feigned enemy of you. No longer thinking of anyone but you.

Damn. You aren’t good for me. I know you aren’t. Something will happen – you’ll meet someone else, decide that I’m too boring or too ordinary – or you’ll do something – break a serious rule or kill Severus. We’ll clash, and it’ll all fall apart. And I’ll be left heartbroken, no matter what. In my grandmother’s words, you’re not the marrying type, and I can’t handle losing another person I care about; not after Severus.

But then again, I wouldn’t go into it with the intention of marriage. I’d keep reminding myself that we’d end eventually, so when it happens, I’ll be fine.

Ugh, there you are. You see me and begin to walk over. If my heart were beating any harder, I’m sure it would explode.

You sit down next to me, close.

“What are you doing?� you ask, grabbing a magazine from a nearby table and flipping through the pages.

“Just thinking.� I feel a little uncomfortable that I had been thinking about you, like you can somehow read my mind and will know.

Abruptly, you close the magazine and look over at me. “You, Lily Evans, are always thinking,� you say simply and then jump up, walking across the room to join Sirius.

Yes, you are eternally wrong for me.

***


I let you fall from my mind for a few hours. It always happens. I manage to convince myself that you’re terrible for me, but then, in a moment of weakness, you wander back in. I just can’t stop the vicious cycle.

“You know, I wish I could read your mind sometimes.� You sit down next to me, eyes looking at me that way.

“Do you now?� I turn to you, and I enjoy how close you are to me.

“Yes. So if you ever fancy telling me, it’d save me from having to read your journal to find out what you think of me.�

I grin a little. Bad for me. Remember?

Nope.

“Well, Potter, I think a lot of things about you.�

Your arm is around me now, a little forward, some might say, but I don’t think so. Then again, I’m not thinking much. I’m not sure if there is anything in the room but you… or if there is even a room anymore.

“Does that translate to you always think about me?�

You’re better at the game than you suspect.

“Mmm, more or less.�

You lean in a little bit and I am frozen to the chair, hairs on my neck standing on edge.

“So that’d be a yes to Hogsmeade this weekend?�

You are so close and your eyes are so intense that I am surprised I can even find something to say. “It’s not a Hogsmeade weekend, Mr. Planner.�

You laugh lightly and I do too. “And if I tell you not to worry about it?� I love this part; the part where we banter a little, where I pretend you hadn’t had me at ‘Hogsmeade.’

“I dunno. I mean, what would people think? What about my reputation?� I try to make my face as scandalized as I can, but I just end up smiling.

“Personally, I think your reputation can take the beating. Plus, I’m a respectable fellow; there may not even be a beating at all.�

I laugh a little. “Alright then. What time on Saturday?�

“Two. We can grab lunch. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.�

“Meaning to ask me?� I tilt my head slightly, trying to read his eyes. “For how long?�

“Hmmm.� You look at your watch for a moment, pretending to calculate and ponder, teasing me. But then you look up, completely serious. You lean in a little bit and smile. “Forever.�

“Okay then.�

“Okay.� You peck me on the lips and jump up. “I’ll see you on Saturday.�

I give an affirmative nod. Nothing would keep me from Saturday, from you.

Sitting there, after you disappear into your dormitory, I don’t question my decision the slightest. I mean, what could one more date hurt? Really, it’ll only be our third.

There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I vaguely wonder what it’ll be, even though I already know. And I’m going to say no. I can’t be your girlfriend; you’re not good for me.

But the idea is already growing. Who am I kidding? Really, there is no use in denying it. I fell for you. I, Lily Evans, fell for the bad boy.

Your face clouds my mind, bright eyes, messy hair, boyish grin. I think about the way you hold my hand, how you grasp it tighter in a crowd, not because you think I’m weak, but because you don’t want to lose me. Because you need me. And you always look me in the eye, no matter what, in a way that tells me you wouldn’t hide anything from me.

And I’m no longer sure you’re even a bad boy. I’m no longer sure of much of anything, other than Hogsmeade on Saturday with you.