#feels oddly empty doing quick projects after spending so much time on a big one

[christiecandor]

When your old and new obsessions breed

I guess we'll call him Ricky Butcher

(Richard Butcher if you're Nimbus or Homelander)

[katbot]

Baby’s First Dinner Date.

This week’s Thirsty Thursday contains a lot of first for a girl that’s been steadily dating for nearly eight months.  

This picks up the following weekend after my first date with J1. —-

It’s a tiring weekend for me. Early Saturday and I’ve already had my third cup of coffee. Work is in two hours and I’m slowly getting dressed.

My phone pings while I’m pulling up my leggings. It’s J1 giving me the address of tomorrow’s acoustic show. He’s been texting me regularly since Thursday.

Our date was fun. Meeting another native was a truly an new age experience. My friend Gabby has an intense desire to only ever date other natives. “Transplant don’t get our jokes. Our humour is different. More refined. More subtle.” I gotta admit. She’s right. I had been so entranced enough with the luxury of accents, I’ve been ignoring the native call My phone chimes again, and it’s J1 asking if I’d like to grab dinner before the show.

I’m jumping and squealing like an idiot when it suddenly dawns on me— I fucking hate eating dinner.

Organised meals are something I struggle with, my stomach is notoriously fickle. It’s hard to know when I’ll be hungry so preplanned seated meals are an activity I tend dodge.

But FUCK! I’m over the moon that he asked! I can’t say no without sounding like a lunatic. And the thought of spending more time together is wonderful.

We decide upon Korean BBQ at 6:30, and my anxiety increases— I’m imagining the pounds of meat that’ll be staring me down in less than twenty four hours.

“Sure! Sounds great!” I’m lying..but it’s coming from a sweet spot.

For the next twenty four hours, trying to will myself into extreme hunger. I ingest only gin and coffee.

Sunday

Twenty minutes from the restaurant I’m sweating. How can I still not be hungry. 

It’s like my stomach is being defiant out of spite.

Maybe I can say I have a surgery in the morning? Dental work? I’m allergic to Koreans? No-that’s just racist. Also, fuck I love Korean food.

“This is Barclays Center. Transfer is available to...”

Fuck me. I’m ten minutes from the restaurant when it finally happens. A pang of hunger hits me with sweet sweet relief. Thank you belly gods! J1 is standing in front of the restaurant, checking his watch. Neither of us texted this morning to confirm— oddly enough I love that it wasn’t necessary.

He looks relieved when I walk up. We exchange quick pecks on the cheek.

 I’ve learned a lot through this project— but how to greet a romantic prospect will always be an unsolved mystery.

The restaurant is packed. When we find out there is a thirty minute wait, I quickly opt for barside seats. The bar is more my aesthetic anyway. The lights are dimmer, there’s jazz playing and everything has a lush red hue. We end up getting a booth that’s way too big for just the two of us.

“So...” He’s in a plaid shirt, and dark jeans. Without his beanie, his hair is longer and a lot blonder than I remember. He has pale blue eyes that always seem to be smiling. And a husky beard that’s more invisible than blonde.

Our first few bits of conversation are rough We keep talking over each other. My stomach is closing in on itself and I’m sweating up a storm.

“Wait....Did you tell me that already... or?” “Were you the one that..?”

Our Thursday binge drinking has mutually affect our short term memory— Frustrated, I do two things that will always reign in my inner self.

Honesty and cocktails. “Iiii-ve got to admit. I’m pretty nervous right now and I’m hardly a nervous person.

He laughs and echos my sentiment. His voice is audible marshmallow fluff. When he offers me the cocktail menu, I know everything is going to be okay.

We split three appetisers, a suggestion from me, to hide my fickle stomach.

We get our first cocktails— me gin based - him bourbon, He walks them back to the table with extreme care. When I’m ready to order my second drink, he insist I put it on his tab. With food on the table and three drinks down, I begin to melt into my usual cool. We rehash details of the forgotten Thursday. Peppering in new details about our current life.

The more we talk, the more we remember just how much we have in common. Summers spent out on Long Beach with overlaps of the obscure underground scene. We reach the limit when it’s reveal we both have obsessions with tiki bars.

At 9, we begin to make our way to his friend’s show. When the bill comes, he tries to pay for it himself. It’s nearly 200 dollars. We argue about splitting until I put my foot down and sternly till him it’s not happening.

He agrees, only after adding that he’s doing it because I’m not really giving him a choice.

It makes me like him even more.

The show is across the street— and I feel stupid for stressing about the timing. The place is huge, A three person group is crowning out a light melody that immediately steals my heart.

I’m in awe. When the set ends, the girls next to me begin smiling at me and then beaming at J1. They have a quick conversation and he introduces me as his date. One of the girls points to another table of six people, I have an oh shit moment.

Oh he brought me to a friend FRIEND event. Holy shit. We grab seats and I’m round tabled introduced and desperately trying to remember everyone’s name. I’ve always considered myself a social butterfly, so this is a piece of cake. I quickly gain a rapport with A. 

She has a hearty laugh and killer eyeliner. She seems like someone I would be friends with. 

She invites me downstairs to grab drinks before the next set. Turns out we missed his friend’s set, who also happens to be her boyfriend. “No stress though, J texted— he said he was having so much fun with you, he didn’t want to leave yet.”

The bar is dark so I can hide my blush but the nervous laughter comes out clear as day. We order two pints of stout each and take them upstairs to our partners. The next set goes on, we shift our seats to the stage. It’s a guy who does a solo guitar set with sprinkles of comedy.

J is sitting in front of me. I’m staring at his long golden hair, and wondering how I feel about it. At one point he turns around only to make sure he’s not blocking my view. He smiles at me quickly before turning back to the stage. I like that he doesn’t feel the need to “babysit” me. It’s bold of him to have a second date that includes not only dinner but meeting all his friends. This guy is either crazy or has massive balls. After the show, J grabs a booth and his friends, A and her partner, N join us. The similarity between J and I continue to grow as his friends and I overlap in obscure ways.

“You went to that college? Oh my god I was planning on going there!” “You know what a theremin is? I have an autoharp!!” “You love vaporwave too?!” I end up having more of a conversation with his friends than him. It’s nearing midnight and I’m giddy. A is nearing drunk and the entire lot of us have work in eight hours. His friends say goodbye, and give me a legitimate: “It was very nice to meet you”

The bar rings for last call while we’re making out.

“I’m not ready to for this to be over....Do you want to head to another bar?”

He says it....THE BLESSED WORDS

We find a bar that’s still open, and head over, hand in hand. It takes long than expected because we keep stopping on the street like horny teenagers.

The bar is dead empty when we finally arrive. We grab pints and a couch in that’s hidden away enough that I don’t feel guilty about heavy petting in public

. I’m sitting on top of J, his hands are grasping my ass while I’m cupping his face.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” He whispers into my ear with a nibble. Ooof. I do. But it’s nearly 1am and I have a meeting in 7 hours and I’m 2 hours away from home.

He understands and we make plans for the following Saturday. A tiki bar crawl that ends in sex.

He’s laughing at my pre planning but excited. We end up staying another hour, and I’m glad my hand is not down J’s pants when the bartender comes round to tell us the back room is closing.

He calls an Uber, I decide to battle the subway.

The ride is long, but the butterflies keep me up all the way.

I send him a “Home” text and dream of blonde haired cherubs.

[theforeverstage]

Back on the best coast

Oh my god, so many thoughts the last few weeks. We’ll see how effectively I can get them down while listening to SF road noise and construction. 

After enjoying a week or so each in Seattle and Portland, I’ve been bumming around the Bay trying to settle down some details and get ready to start my harvest internship. Being in this area again has been extremely relaxing, and while all the planning and coordinating has been less so I’m excited to sit in one place for a couple of months. It’s also weird that this is my first time paying rent in this country, but I’m stoked to settle in somewhere that isn’t taking up space in someone else’s living room... But I’m so close to emptying my life out of my car, at least for a bit, and starting work with some awesome people! 

Seattle, as always, was dreamy. I feel oddly sentimental for someone not from there, but a lot of me does come from those visits back in high school. And although I’m not particularly “granola” on the surface, the level of consciousness and awareness about the world around you that gets so neatly compacted with this term has been very important to me since I first saw it in such a collective way, and I try to carry it through wherever I am (yes, even back out east). Also, if you’ve ever wondered why I say “rad” and “boom done” as much as I do, you can thank a certain couple of people for inserting those into my vocabulary back in the day. It’s nice to be in a place with happy and healthy kitchen environments at least those I started in and continue to check out, like newcomers Eden hill and Opus co. Hashtag being krunchy is kool, yall. There is a lot of good life to live here, no matter how quickly the city is changing. It also is so great to come back and reconnect with people I’ve known for varying numbers of years and feel totally at home, and to be totally comfortable with a days activities, full of friends or completely on my own, instead of feeling like a tourist. 

Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s right for me right now. In terms of lifestyle I could say absolutely, but after building up my cool-experiences bank for years now I feel like I want more professional stimuli than I happen to find here. It feels so good to be free and finally dive in to whatever project I take on next, and I guess I’m looking for something to match or top what I’ve done so far. Opus and Eden Hill were both fantastic and full of good people, but a touch on the small side. The Dairy wasn’t big but they definitely do their fare share of volume and I miss delivering the level of quality that all three of these places have but in the setting more like The Dairy. Maybe it’s the level of saturation that has been hit in the restaurant industry, maybe it’s all in my head and this weird desire to be at least a little bit stressed out, or maybe it’s just a different community out here that is doing their own thing at the moment. Whatever it is, I guess I’ll just have to keep visiting until it feels like the right place to be!  

After a couple quick visits and passes through, it was nice to finally spend a few days in Portland. I was lucky to be connected with some great humans to host me and help make sure I enjoyed their city, and they also happened to have that really great stoop that I spent a fair amount of time sitting on. It was a little weird going to my last two stages for a short while, and by weird I mean I was all sorts of anxious and nervous and excited and tired all at once. Still not super sure why I got all weird about it, especially when it means I’m no longer trying to email/call/keep track of restaurant people who are busy running restaurants, but I think it has something to do with the idea that the end of means that there should be a next step in sight. Especially after a trip like this that had the underlying purpose of figuring out what I want to do, not having that clear answer at the end is a bit disorienting. But I just keep reminding myself that I still have plenty of time to figure things out, and there is still a good amount of ride to enjoy before I make my next move. 

 I ended up staging at Ray and Beast, but didn’t quite feel totally checked in for either of them. Of course part of that was because of the thoughts above floating around in my head, but I also chose these two places for the people running them instead of the food alone. That realization, and the the one where I caught myself thinking almost solely about beverage things and service, shows that my head is definitely not entirely in the kitchen anymore. I still can’t quite decide where it is, but I also don’t have a reason to make any choice right now. 

After all that fun stuff, it’s been fantastic to chill out for a bit in San Francisco. I’ve gotten to walk some areas I’d never visited before and and drink more than I have in a long while with one of my favorite humans. I’ll check out places to stage  once I’m done with the internship, it was the perfect week to just catch up with my head a little bit and have a good time. And on top of this, I’m going to see another favorite human in Hawaii in like four days and really be able to calm down! At least I hope so, if I can’t relax out there then I’m definitely broken. 

So the trip isn’t quite done, it’s just taking a planned pause to focus on something else for minute. Still all sorts of new adventures and opportunities ahead, now with less movement and more grape vines all over the place! Oh, and it’ll be nice to get a paycheck again! 

[omegaverse-seeker]

Serendipity

Hmmmmm............hmMMmMmMMmmMMMmmmMMMmmm. How to write a fic for this wordddddddd. HMMMMMMMMMM. Let’s hope that I write something decent. Lelelelel. Wish me luckkkk. 

It took a moment for the Omega to wake up from his sleep. He dreamt of being in his favorite movie, puppies, and for a split second very dedicated with making a gingerbread house. Perhaps Sammy was too dedicated to that gingerbread house, seeing as he slept through his alarm for nearly an hour before the early Christmas dream came to an end. He shot up in bed, nose stuffy and his ear ringing from the wailing ringtone he set for his alarm. With bleary brown eyes he looked at his phone, immediately waking up when he did. 

He was going to be late. He was going to be late on the day of his first presentation ever at work. The first project that was given to him ever, and he was going to be late. The panic sat in as he sat in his bed for more time than he should’ve before jumping out of it and running around to get ready as fast as he could. He had already missed three buses during his over sleeping but he could make it just in time for the next one following. 

If only his misfortune had stopped at waking up late. After his quick shower, he went on to change into the outfit he had prepared the night before. Only to drop deodorant on the navy pants as the last of it fell out and splattered onto it. With no time to clean it up he threw on another pair of khakis that just barely zipped up, having saved them since college. Saving off the self deprecating thoughts of gaining probably just two more pounds, he shoved on his socks and shoes and quickly gathered his things. 

His hair would have to air dry throughout the commute, there was no way he could spend the twenty minutes trying to tame the curls as best as he could. The good thing was his coffee machine had brewed into his travel mug. Hastily he gathered what was needed for the work day, needing the boards and his laptop for the presentation. With everything in his satchel and coffee mug in hand, Sammy just barely made it to the bus stop before it left and he hopped on. 

The Omega panted and shook slightly as he sipped his coffee and held onto the railings as his boards where stuck under his pit with the arm he was using to drink. It seemed as if the day was going to turn around for him. There was traffic, but enough to just make him two or three minutes late to the meeting. Though he was plenty prepared with what he was going to say to the client and in front of his boss, if only he was paying attention at how the bus driver was stopping. 

Though it was much too late for Sammy to stop himself from taking a sip from the travel mug when the driver stopped hard as a soccer mom van cut him off. It sudden stop caused his coffee to spill onto his white button up and onto his boards that he so desperately needed to show the client. He whined deeply as soon as it registered with what happened. There was no way he could help himself with cleaning up the coffee on the crowded bus until he got to his stop. 

This left him time to wallow in self-pity, especially now that traffic was a complete stand still. Time ticked down as they made the agonizingly slow crawl through the late morning traffic. With the time that he was going at before, he would’ve had time to spare at the office to get himself cleaned up and with his boards in place. Now he would barely even be able to make it to the meeting room. 

The coffee that had spilled onto him had pained before, but the searing had gone away by the time they had made it to his stop. Without a second’s hesitation he practically shoved his way passed everyone and rushed into the building. His throat tightened more and more as the minutes ticked down to his meeting time, seeing as he would be unprofessionally late for his first and most important meeting ever. 

He dodged everyone in the lobby as best as he could, sniffling and nibbling at his lip anxiously as he managed to get into the elevator. Alphas and even the Betas in the elevator stared down at him, instinct kicking in to comfort the sad Omega as the pheromones rolled off of him. Though their gaze made him feel even smaller than he already was, making him fidget in his spot until the doors opened up for his floor. Sammy pushed his way through the tall Alphas and Betas, stumbling out of the elevators with a huff and nearly tripping. 

The floor with all of the meeting rooms was mostly empty, save for the few employees that roamed around doing small tasks and the receptionist. She immediately saw him, her chipper smile faltering as she saw him as disheveled as he was. Sammy simply gave her a tight smile and rushed passed her to make his way into the bathroom. There he took out his phone seeing that he was already late by ten minutes with loads of texts and calls from his partners and boss. They told him that they were stalling the client, who was late themselves. 

Shooting a quick text to them about his shirt, he got to work getting himself cleaned up in the (thankfully) empty bathroom. His blazer was saved as well as his khakis, so he was lucky there. He wet a paper towel and tried his hardest to get some of the coffee stain out. Tearing up as he looked to his coffee stained board as well, doing his best with smoothing down his hair as the fizz sat in. He didn’t hear someone come into the bathroom as turned to get more paper towels from the dispenser. 

He didn’t hear the door open, nor did he see the man enter into the bathroom. When he turned and walked towards the sink, he was met with a hard body enough to fall right on his bottom, making him grunt roughly and look up to the surprised man. “I-I’m so sorry,” he started and nibbled at his lip as he tried to stop the tears that were building in his eyes, “I-I...sorry.” 

The tall Alpha was caught off guard by the emotional Omega that he had run into. “Uh,” he started awkwardly, “It’s...you’re fine. It happens. No big deal. Don’t cry.” The Alpha reached his hand down and the Omega took it after sniffling a few times, “Are you hurt? Don’t cry. It okay.” 

Sammy rubbed his eyes from the tears that didn't stop falling, “I’m n-not hurt...I’m okay, for the most part.” The shorter calmed enough to look up at the Alpha, admiring his handsome face for a second before bursting out into tears again. “I-I’ve had a terrible m-morning,” he whined as he cried. “I-I have a p-pr-presentation to do and I am late for it already, b-but I dropped coffee on the o-only shirt I have and all the b-boards for the clients. T-This is my f-first project w-where I-I wa-as the lead an-and this j-just shows that I can’t do it!” 

The Alpha blinked again and swallowed hard, oddly effected by the Omega’s out burst, “Hey...hey. Just breath.” The man waited for the smaller’s breathing to slow down before speaking again, “It’s okay. You still showed up even with all the bad stuff that happened to you. That counts for something. I’m sure that your client will understand what happened...especially if you have other ways of showing what you have to offer.” The Alpha smiled at the other, his hazel eyes looking oddly beautiful in the weird lighting of the bathroom. “You have something else to show what you have?” 

Sammy sniffled and blew his nose into the rough paper towel and nodded, “I have everything on my laptop.” 

“There you go,” he smiled, “Nothing to worry about. All is okay. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He nodded. “We all drop coffee on ourselves sometimes,” he continued to try and comfort the Omega who was now sniffling less, “If it makes you feel better, underneath this suit jacket, there are probably pit stains bigger than my face.” 

With that Sammy couldn’t help but to start laughing and even snorted, thinking of how ridiculous he sounded. “T-That’s...that’s pretty gross,” he said with a deep blush, “Though, it does make me feel better.” 

A fond smile grew on the Alpha’s fact, “Good. I’m glad. Despite all of this, I’m sure you have the presentation in the bag.” He gave him a nod and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, “Might as well button up the blazer and go get your presentation ready.” 

Sammy nodded at the Alpha, a small smile reaching his lips as he fixed the shirt and buttoned up. “I’ll have to wing some of it,” he murmured in thought and sighed as he sniffled once more, “Thank you stranger. I needed something good to happen to me today.” Sammy let in a long breath and released it to calm the rest of his nerves before fixing up his hair a little bit again. “Thank you, sorry for keeping you from using the bathroom,” he giggled softly and watched the Alpha nod at him before heading towards the meeting room. 

Once he was there he scrambled to get everything ready, displaying the board despite the coffee stains and posting up the designs he had made for the client for his new sport’s magazine website, posters, and so on and so forth. With that done, he informed them of what he had planned to say towards the client as he fixed himself up some more hearing the door of the meeting room open up. 

A hot blush rose to his freckled cheeks as soon as he looked to the Alpha that he had run into in the bathroom. Of course this would happen to him. The Alpha smiled knowingly at the Omega and extended his hand to him, “Nice to meet you. Samuel, correct? I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” 

A sigh of relief escaped him and he nodded at him, “Sam or Sammy is fine. Nice to finally meet you, Heath. I hope that I will be able to impress you today.” The Omega shook his head and smiled warmly. 

“By what I’ve seen so far, I like to think that I am already sold,” Heath replied with a soft chuckle. 

At that moment, Sammy only think of all of the shitty things that happened to him and how everything seemed to be just a happy accident. 

[indutime]

A First Date

Here’s a story I’ve been telling a lot lately.

Coffee Meets Bagel is a dating app, and as with all modern dating apps, it comes with little gimmicks. For CMB (that’s what its veterans call it), a chat line between a matched pair lasts for only 7 days. This time limit is used to instill a sense of urgency to trade other contact info, grab a date, and presumably sprint to the altar. 

In one such chat line, I had matched with a consultant currently residing in San Francisco. Conversation was sparse but interesting and I got the feeling she genuinely wanted to trade words as opposed to simply answering questions. I get a notification on my phone reminding me that the chat line is about to expire and make a mental note to ask for her personal contact info soon and go back to playing video games (probably). 

And so of course, I forget, and the chat line expires. I desperately try to find some sort of loophole in the app to reopen the conversation, but those devs at CMB aren’t bluffing. When they say 7 days they mean it. 

After about a week, I decide to Google the only things I knew about her from her profile: her first name, her job and her location. First result was her LinkedIn profile. For those not in the know, LinkedIn is basically a social network for people who really care about their jobs and also comes with a paid premium option to unlock special abilities. One of those social network super powers is to message someone without having added them as a connection. “I’m not going to add her on f-ing LinkedIn” and so I move on with my life. 

Two weeks later I add her on LinkedIn.

To accompany my invitation, LinkedIn graciously allows users to add a 500 character limit message. Here is that message:

Okay I know how creepy this looks but I was bummed we didn't trade more info before the chat line expired. I figured what the hell and just searched "(her name) san francisco consulting" and you were first. This is probably the absolute worst way to connect so if you want to ignore this, I totally get it

She accepts my request a few hours later and responds, “nice sleuthing”

I ask her if she’d like to meet up (for professional purposes, obviously). She says she does, but unfortunately she’s out of town for the next couple weeks for a business trip. I ask her if she would like to trade alternative contact info and she politely declines, and states she’s enjoying chatting through a social network for built for professionals. Oddly enough, I don’t mind either. I’m a sucker for quirky stuff like this. Over the next two weeks, conversation remains sparse. All throughout the days I refresh my LinkedIn homepage hoping to see a new message in my inbox and find myself cursing this “quirky” website.

After two weeks, she’s returning back home so I ask if she’s free that coming Saturday. Indeed she is, and asks me where I’d like to go. I’m not really much into the fine dining scene and ask her if there’s any place she’s been wanting to try. She eventually decides for us to meet at Burma Star at 5:30. And on that Friday before the day of the meeting she finally sends me her phone number. “Big milestone,” she says.

I take the train to my office a few hours before the date. The office is empty, save for Jonathon (who’s always there for God knows what) and Mitch, who’s live-streaming a new game called Nioh. I have a Sunday School lesson to prepare for the next day so I take a seat at my desk. Suddenly, I smell something awful. I had smelled it earlier on the train but had just assumed it was someone else with bad B.O. But now as I sat alone, I knew it had to be me. I take off a shoe and take a strong whiff. Bad move. But at least now I’d found the culprit. I then realized I had been wearing the same socks that I had worn the day before and had slept in all night. And boy, my feet sweat. So I head over to a window and place my shoes on the sill and outstretch my socks over a houseplant. Maybe airing them out for a while will get rid of the embedded smell. I wet some paper towels in the kitchen and wipe my feet down to get rid of any residual stench. 

I take a seat next to the window and realize this process is not going fast enough; it was now an hour a half or so until the date. I couldn’t solve this problem by just waiting around, I had to take action. Then I remembered I had found a healthy orange off the street a few days prior and had kept it at my desk as a snack should I ever need it. But I wasn’t hungry. I was desperate. I peel the orange and place the peels inside my shoes. I take a few pieces and place them on top of the peels. I take another piece and rub down my socks with them, hoping to create some sort of citrus filter.

It was a fruitless effort (insert pun acknowledgement here) and deep down I knew there was no way this smell was going away without washing them. But there wasn’t enough time to dry them. Then I remembered my company had handed out dozens of free socks a few months prior and I kept a pair in my bag for any sock emergency I might ever have. This was that moment. I reach into my bag to pull out the fresh pair of socks and thank the Lord for my gift of foresight. 

It was just about time to go and I take one last sniff test for the three troublemakers. My feet smelled decent, my new socks smelled like nothing, and my shoes smelled like someone sprayed orange zest in a tennis player’s gym bag. But hey, two for three ain’t bad. 

My office is in the SoMa district of the city and the restaurant is in the Mission. I take a quick look at the map and find out it’s a walkable distance. I’m always fine with walking especially if it’s a great day in the city. I had been paying for Ubers all week and didn’t want to do more needless spending. And besides, I needed a way to work off my first-date nerves. 

Right outside the office, I run into another coworker, Oblanca, who asks me “You know it’s Saturday right?” I put in my headphones and start listening to Elbow’s newest album for the first time. I check Maps to see when Google estimates I’d arrive at the destination. 5:50 P.M. Not good. I text her, “Hey, it’d be super cool if you’re also going to be late.” She asks how late we’re talking here and I reply 15 minutes. Immediately I realize that 15 minutes is a little too late to be late for a first date. And so I start running. After half a mile (yes, really. I just checked on Google Maps) I realize how sweaty I’m getting. This was everything I sought to avoid. So I cave and hail an Uber and text her that I’m actually going to be right on time. “Great, now I’m going to be 10 minutes late,” she responds.

I actually see her walk into the restaurant about a minute before me. I take off the baseball cap that I had been wearing all day to hold my hair back and stick it in my jacket pocket as I enter the restaurant. She doesn’t see me enter so I approach her and she smiles and gets up to give me a hug. Her smile lights up her whole face. She’s wearing a thin black turtleneck. It complements her long black hair.

As it turns out, exercise does not help to get rid of nerves. The adrenaline from the run is only adding to it. I’d also never had Burmese food before (except a Burmese food truck that shows up outside our office sometimes) and there were a thousand things on the menu that I couldn’t decide between. I start talking about the VR project I had been working on and I can tell by her face that she doesn’t care. But I can’t just leave the story unfinished so I painfully finish the boring tale of the technical problems we’re encountering with the project. I’m rambling. I’m not making eye contact. She’s much prettier in person. I look and sound like a moron.

She recommends the fermented tea leaf salad, a Burmese staple. And we each order another dish; her, the garlic noodles with duck and I, the “Tofu Tower.” I get a beer and she orders a whiskey cocktail. Alcohol finally settles my nerves a little and we’re able to get into typical light-hearted first date conversation topics, like politics and religion. She’s very intelligent and well-spoken and extremely charming and surprisingly witty. I don’t fake my laughs or smiles.

She asks me of bad habit that I have. “No stupid answers like, ‘I’m a perfectionist.’” The first thing that comes to my mind is that I don’t brush my teeth at night. (Yes, I know this sounds really gross. It started off as laziness in college but I’ve never had a cavity in my life. So hey, the proof is in the pudding.) But I’m not going to tell her that on a first date for obvious reasons. The first time I had told my previous girlfriend about it, we got into a straight up argument. So I say bad posture. She’s not pleased with the answer and we both know it’s a lame response. So I start off with another disclaimer, stating that what I’m about to say may be a potential dealbreaker and confess my dirty little secret. To my surprise, she laughs. Laughs harder than she has all night. I ask why she found it so hilarious, but she’s not entirely sure. She suspects it was because the long disclaimer made her expect some really bad habit, like hard drugs, but it turned out to be so innocent yet still gross. She says my answer is now the gold standard for every time she asks the question. I finally feel like I’m over my nerves and settle into a groove, like when you finally find the perfect rhythm to a song you’d been trying to write for weeks. 

Let me preface the rest of this by saying there’s a pattern that occurs throughout this whole date. I’ll do something really dumb or say something really stupid and then offset it later by something really smooth. And then screw it up later with something else.

So I ask her what’s her bad habit and she doesn’t have an answer. “How do you not have an answer to your own question?” I ask. She tells me I’m supposed to come up with a new one. “That’s not how it works,” I say, “for example, my go-to icebreaker question is what’s your best poop story?” “What’s a poop story?” “You know, some funny story about pooping your pants.” I can tell by her face this was not resonating well with her and I had made a big mistake by bringing up poop on a first date. So I say that I actually have another icebreaker question that I like to ask. But I pause, and say that I’m realizing there’s a theme to icebreaker questions. She asks what it is, so I tell her, “Let’s say, hypothetically, there’s a technology that will allow you to never need to pee again. What is your price ceiling on a monthly subscription to that sort of service? What if #2 was part of the deal?” But she actually answers seriously and it starts another solid conversation. 

Prior to the date, she had told me that she was going to a concert that night with her friend and that the latest she could leave was 8. I hadn’t been checking the time all night, so when she gets up to go to the bathroom, I’m assuming the date is coming to an end. I stop her as she passes by and say, “Hey, you know for $10/month, you could still be sitting here.” She gives me a laugh and playfully hits me on the shoulder as she leaves. 

When she gets back to her seat, she proposes a new plan. Let’s pay for the food now and head somewhere nearby for drinks. I ask her about her show and she says it turns out the doors open at 8 but the band she wants to see doesn’t come on until 9:30 or 10. I happily agree to this new plan. And so the check comes and we both throw our cards in without a word about it. She finds a bar nearby on her phone and when we get the to-go bag, she says “Let’s motor” and we head out.

The night is brisk but bearable and the cold, quiet air is a welcome relief from the stuffy, noisy restaurant. She asks if she can ask a personal question. “Go ahead.” “Why did you break up with your ex?” It’s at this point I realized that I had been mentioning my ex quite a bit throughout dinner. Even in purely unromantic anecdotes. I still can’t say why I did. Usually when I tell those stories, I’ll refer to her as my friend. But for some reason that night I kept mentioning her as my ex. “I talked about her a lot didn’t I?” “Yeah, you did,” she says with a smile. I answer the question and we head into the crappy little dive bar, never to say a word about my past relationships again.

We agree for her to grab the first round and I’ll grab the second. She orders a whiskey ginger and I order an old fashioned. She changes her mind and orders the same thing. When asked if there was a specific whiskey we wanted in it she asks for Bulleit. 

The bar is dark but quiet, aside from a few fans watching the basketball game on TV. The Warriors are playing in OKC for the first time this season and the game is coming to an end. Golden State is about to win. She’s a basketball fan but doesn’t follow a specific team, if she did, she’d follow the Pistons. I inquire why and she says she likes their coach, “Pop...Popolitch...?”“Popovich?” “That’s him!” “He coaches the Spurs.” “Oh yeah the Spurs! I really like them.” I agree, and we talk about Kawhi Leonard for a bit.

I grab the second round and drop the drinks off at our table before heading to the bathroom to pee. The room is narrow and dimly lit. There’s graffiti all over the walls and a hole in the door where a lock used to be. I try flushing but the toilet is busted. I wash my hands and head out, stopping by the bar to tell the bartender about the toilet. When I return to the table I rest my elbows on it with my hands clasped together. She reaches out to touch my hand for the first time and in surprise I look at her and ask what she’s doing. “Just making sure you washed your hands,” she says with a sly smile. 

She continues to be as charming as ever. We talk about our terrible eyesight, television shows and stereotypes associated with our ethnicities. She’s Korean but I ask to hear her Vietnamese accent because I know every Asian does one. She refuses, but as a Vietnamese person, I open the floor for her, telling her I won’t consider any of it racist. She does it on the condition I do mine first so I do. Hers is mostly an impression of the Phở waiter at the restaurant she frequented in college. It’s oddly guttural but still funny. 

She asks why I had asked her how long she’d been on CMB (she’d been on it for about 6 months). I shrug and say it was just an icebreaker. She tells me it was a pretty loaded question and I ask her to explain. “Well, if I had said something like a month, you might think I had just gotten off a relationship and that you’re just a rebound. Or if I said something like two years, you’d think ‘How has this chick been on the app for two years and not found anyone yet?’” “Good point, I’ll keep that in mind for the next date I go on.” I give her a smile and she laughs. 

I ask her if she honestly thought it was creepy that I found her on LinkedIn. Without hesitation she says no and in fact thought it was quite endearing. I ask her if she’s told anyone that she’s meeting a dude that she met off LinkedIn and she says no. I didn’t know how to feel about having told a dozen people about her already.

We head out to walk to her show and I plan to take a car back to the office from there with the leftover food. The night’s colder now but I’m also drunker now and therefore run a little more warm blooded. She walks up from my left and links her arm beneath mine. “So Josh. Did you have a good time tonight?” she asks. I tell her I did. It didn’t sound genuine when it came out of my mouth, but I really did. She points up at the moon and says, “Look at that, it’s a full moon. Are you going to turn into a werewolf?” I didn’t have anything witty to say, so I awkwardly let out a, “haha....yeaaaah.”

I really need to pee during the walk and kick myself for not just going at the bar (that hypothetical technology would be really convenient right now). I tell her and she feels the same way but at least she’s going to be at a place with the proper facilities soon. She starts shivering and chattering her teeth. So I slowly start pulling off my jacket, stating that she’s left me no choice. She refuses and we both acknowledge how cheesy the whole thing is but I do it anyway, saying that I get warm when I drink.

We cross a street and stop at a corner for her to check her phone to see how far away the venue is. “It’s about a block away.” “Cool, when’s your friend going to be there?” “About five minutes.” “Cool.” She stands about three feet away from me, looks at me and says, 

“So...you can kiss me now or later.”

Keep in mind here that I was not looking to kiss anyone that night. I was going into this date with the expectation of not getting any, and that was completely fine with me. I wasn’t even going into the date with the intent of getting a second date, I just wanted to not look like a total freak. So with that mindset, I was completely caught off guard. Not to mention I still really needed to pee. So I panicked.

“Uh...later, I guess.”

And I keep heading towards the venue, not even staying long enough to see her reaction to getting rejected. I even left her behind as I walked ahead of her.

But now I had time. Now that the door was open, I could mentally prepare myself for the moment. Now the plan was to kiss her in front of the venue before her friend got there and before I ventured off into the night back to the office.

We get to the venue and I call my Uber; it’s about five minutes away. I ask her when her friend is showing up and she says about two minutes. “Okay Josh, you got two minutes to do this,” I tell myself. 

About fifteen seconds later her friend shows up. We introduce ourselves and shake hands. I welcome her to our little LinkedIn event and look towards my date to see if she caught my joke since I knew her friend didn’t. She’s smiling and gives me a wink. She admits that she actually did tell someone about meeting someone off LinkedIn and that person was standing right in front of me. It was her best friend, she tells her everything. So, we have light small talk for a bit and laugh and I’m dying inside and it’s time for them to head to the show. I hug her goodbye and jump in my Uber. I get back to the office and finally pee at a urinal. I felt like I could fill a milk jug.

Jonathon is unsurprisingly still at the office and I debrief him on the whole ordeal. I decide to text her, “So, I’m going to blame not kissing you on my very burdening need to pee. But I should have anyway.” “Yes you should have!” she responds, “But that’s okay, next time I’ll turn you down and we’ll be even.”

Second date’s next week and I’ll probably still be extremely nervous.

[5hfanfiction]

LJ10 - Part 29

I finished the last bit of toast on my plate and fell back against the headboard of the bed. My stomach was full and felt as if it was going to burst any minute. Why did I never listen to that little voice in my head that told me to stop eating before I reached that point? Because food is delicious, I thought and sighed deeply. Especially when my lovely girlfriend prepared it and made an effort to serve me the best breakfast in bed possible.

Finishing my thought, the dark-haired woman walked back into her bedroom after getting herself another cup of coffee. I smiled to myself as I took in every little detail. Her hair in a messy bun, no makeup and just an oversized T-shirt was enough to make my heart flutter. She sat down next to me and chuckled at the sight of my empty plate in front of me.

“I take it you enjoyed breakfast,“ Lauren grinned.

"Maybe a little too much,“ I replied and caressed my protruding stomach. "The last time I had a belly like that was when I was pregnant.“

"Looks good on you,“ she said with a smile.

"You have to say that because you’re my girlfriend,“ I argued but reciprocated her smile.

"Fiancée,“ Lauren corrected me and my heart skipped a beat.

"Right,“ I whispered and eyed the ring she had given me the night before on my hand.

"Did you forget?“ she laughed with endearment.

"No,“ I said quickly. "I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet.“

"It’s probably the sleep deprivation,“ Lauren smirked smugly and took a sip of her coffee.

"And who’s fault is that?“ I engaged in her banter. 

"I didn’t hear you complaining last night…and technically this morning,“ the older one continued with feigned arrogance. "Actually, if I remember correctly, it was you who kept asking for more-“ I cut her off by placing my hand on her mouth unable to control a slight giggle.

"Enough,“ I said before my cheeks would turn red.

Lauren raised her hand as a sign of surrender and I brought mine down so she could speak again. Instead of replying, I felt her hand stroking my cheek and pulling me in for a kiss. I didn’t hesitate and leaned in until our lips met. The faint taste of coffee was strangely appealing. Not as appealing as her general skill when it came to kissing though. There was light pressure on my lips that left me wanting more which she seemed to sense. Her head tilted subtly enabling her to deepen the kiss. Sighing in joy, I groaned discontentedly right afterwards because she pulled away.

"Tease,“ I muttered under my breath.

"I’d love to continue but I have a feeling I won’t be getting out of bed any time soon if I do,“ Lauren explained with another dazzling smile.

"When has that ever been a problem for you?“ I asked chuckling and folded my arms around her neck. 

"It’s not but I have to run an errand,“ her answer left me a little confused.

"I thought you didn’t have any plans and we’d leave for the game together?“

"We’ll still go to the game together,“ the other brunette spoke softly. "I’ll come back after my meeting to pick you up.“

"Is it a mystery meeting?“ I questioned carefully because she didn’t go into further details.

"No, it’s just not a big deal and you can maybe catch up on some sleep that I deprived you of,“ Lauren answered only adding to my curiosity. 

"I’m not really tired and…I don’t want to sound controlling again because we know how that turned out last time,“ I had definitely learned my lesson in terms of my jealousy. "Can’t I come to the meeting with you? I want to spend as much time as possible with you while I’m here.“

"You can definitely come but I think you’re going to be bored,“ she reasoned but didn’t seem opposed to the idea.

"Looking at you never gets boring,“ I said with a smirk and saw her smiling in response.

"Good one,“ she placed a soft kiss on my lips. "Okay then. Let’s get out of here.“

I didn’t ask any further questions because I assumed I would get my answers once we got to the mystery meeting. Sometimes I wondered if Lauren was truly oblivious to her mysterious ways or if she simply enjoyed being somewhat enigmatic. I assumed it was mostly unintentional because she had told me before she didn’t see herself as mysterious until I pointed it out. 

We decided to pack our bags for the game later on so we wouldn’t have to come back to the apartment and head to the stadium after the meeting. In the car, I enjoyed listening to the radio and sang along to some of the songs which Lauren seemed to enjoy. She showed me some of the places that she liked and I was excited to see more of the city tonight. We had made plans to go out with Dinah after the game. 

Caught up in my own thoughts, I didn’t realize Lauren had stopped the engine at some point and told me we had arrived. A little distraught, I got out of the car and was even more surprised to find myself at a construction sight. There were two men approaching Lauren quickly. They handed her some paperwork and I decided to get closer slowly. I heard them talking but didn’t understand much until I stood next to them. 

Taking a look at the papers, they were ground plans and other architectural documents so I finally had an idea what this meeting was about. The men mentioned some problems with the plumbing and how the renovation would take longer. Lauren sighed and rubbed her temples while the men kept talking and explaining. As I watched them, it became clear that she was working as an architect on the sight, which I didn’t know about, but I still couldn’t figure out what was going on exactly.

After a few minutes of hectic talks and Lauren trying to throw out solutions, the three of them decided to look at the problems together. My fiancee excused herself but I told her it was okay and stayed back. Watching from afar, it was oddly satisfying to see a young woman being level-headed and apparently in charge of two older men who seemed all over the place. I hadn’t seen her in that element and I was caught off-guard by her still working in the architectural field but I didn’t mind one bit. The only question that I had was the same as many times: why didn’t she tell me?

The inspection took quite some time and I decided to go back in the car. I checked some e-mails, texted Dinah and sent Austin a video that he should show Lara. After what seemed like an hour, Lauren returned to the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

"I’m so sorry,“ she apologized and looked at me. "I was hoping it wouldn’t take this long and that’s why I thought it would’ve been better for you to stay at my place.“

"No, that’s okay,“ I said casually and put away my phone. "I was able to entertain myself.“

"Still, you shouldn’t have to sit here and be bored,“ Lauren appeared upset with herself which was absolutely crazy because I didn’t mind at all.

"Lauren, it’s alright. Really,“ I reiterated and gave her a warm smile. "If anything, I’m just curious what this is all about. I didn’t know you were still working as an architect.“

"It’s not a big deal,“ she downplayed as usual. "I’m not really working in that sense that I’m getting paid or anything.“

"It’s for charity?“ I asked.

"Yeah,“ she nodded. "Remember Jen, my neighbor?“

"How could I forget?“ I said with a chuckle.

"She works for the charity and that’s how I got involved,“ Lauren finally pieced together the story. "They work with underprivileged children and I wanted to help out because she mentioned that they couldn’t afford an architect for their new project. They’re planning to renovate this old building and make it into a new facility for children who need tutoring, counseling or any type of support they don’t get otherwise. I didn’t intend on working as an architect while I was here but I couldn’t refuse my help when I heard about it.“

As I listened to Lauren speaking, I was in a state of shock and awe. Obviously I knew that she had worked as a volunteer before and her charitable ways were not shocking. They only reinforced what I loved about her in the first place: her kindness, humanity and humility. However, it also amplified her tendency to keep things to herself. 

"So, you’re basically building a center for underprivileged children…and how is that not a big deal?“ I questioned with a gentle laugh.

"I’m just helping them with the renovation,“ her response was grounded as always.

"Which is still a big deal, mi amor,“ I emphasized and wanted her to acknowledge the good she was doing. 

"Not to me, I guess,“ the Florida native shrugged.

"Is that why didn’t tell me about it?“ I asked gently. "Because you think it’s not worth mentioning?“

"It’s not,“ she affirmed which left me slightly astonished. "People do way greater things than this.“

"You’re so…“ I couldn’t find the right words to describe what I was trying to stay. "Humble but almost in a bad way,“ I added in disbelief. "Don’t get me wrong, I love your humility but you should give yourself some credit, Lauren. You’re so quick to put yourself down. What you’re doing here is amazing. Perhaps there are people who do greater things in the world but honestly, most people I know don’t do a fraction of what you do. I’m not saying you should boast with those things but it’s okay to be proud of it and share it with others. I would have loved to hear about it because I know you’re passionate about these topics.“

"I get it,“ she nodded slowly. 

"What am I going to do with you?“ I questioned lovingly. 

"Why?“ she replied with a smile.

"Because you’re so secretive without even knowing,“ I told her to which she laughed gently.

"I’m honestly not trying to be. But I like being private,“ she admitted.

"I know,“ I whispered and felt her taking my hand to kiss the back of it. "So, you’re really not trying to be mysterious to be even sexier?“ I asked with a grin.

"No, but if you think it’s sexy then that’s not a bad thing in my book,“ she countered quickly.

"You don’t need to be mysterious to be sexy, trust me,“ my reply was just as quick.

"Good to know,“ Lauren smiled. "Am I really that secretive though?“

"Not always but you can be,“ I answered honestly.

"One of the girls on the team is crazy into astrology and she wants to do these charts for everyone,“ the darker-brunette said still smiling. "She actually told me I have a Scorpio Moon, don’t really know what that is exactly but they’re supposedly super secretive.“

"So you’re blaming the stars now?“ I chuckled.

"Maybe,“ the older one laughed. "No seriously. I didn’t think I was keeping it from you. I guess, I didn’t see it as a major topic of discussion. But it’s nice to know you’re interested.“

"You can tell me anything,“ I affirmed once more and smiled.

Her response was a tender kiss which was a good sign. We didn’t have a lot of time left until our teams had to be at the stadium so Lauren started the engine again. I took one more look at the construction sight and smiled. Now that I knew about it, I couldn’t wait to hear about the progress they were going to make. It was great to see that Lauren had found so many positive aspects in Orlando.

My thoughts returned to what Clara had said the night before; that Lauren was very happy and stable here. Frowning, I looked to my side and watched my fiancee’s relaxed facial expressions. As soon as I noticed my thoughts racing again, I stopped and focused on the game ahead of us. Everything else could be discussed afterwards.

-

As expected, the game between Orlando Pride and New York Western Flash was a highlight. The Floridian stadium was packed and the atmosphere was inimitable. People were on their feet, chanting all the way through. Orlando was putting up a good fight and had managed to score the first goal early. However, we had recovered just before the end of the second half and equalized the game.

Now that the second half was entering the last ten minutes, everyone felt that there was more to come. Both teams brought their best game and all players exerted themselves. It was one of those games your body wouldn’t forget easily. But those games I lived for - and so did Lauren. While I had had some chances to give my team the lead, I hadn’t succeeded in scoring yet. I worked hard but was terribly unlucky. My fiancee was working all over the field, supporting defense and offense while mostly attempting to set up her attackers to score.

We had had a few duels which where incredibly difficult for me. She was possibly the only person who had always been able to anticipate my moves. Therefore she had been able to get the ball from me once or twice but I was able to outrun here once I got passed her. That was insanely hard to do though. 

It wasn’t until I saw Dinah winning the ball from an Orlando player that I seized the opportunity of a counter attack. I motioned towards my best friend that I was making a run to counter and she understood immediately. Apart from Lauren obviously, Dinah and I were able to communicate better than most people on the field. One hand motion and Dinah kicked the ball with force, enabling me to outrun my defender and chasing the round object. 

My mind went blank whenever I was in these situations. It was mostly instinct at this point. I saw the ball coming, my defender one step behind me and no one else in front except the goalkeeper. Spotting the goalkeeper who was off her line and trying to run back quickly, I took a risk. Instead of stopping and controlling the ball to shoot, I let it bounce once in front of me and then slightly chipped it over the goalkeeper. It took a lot of control and precision to do it but I saw it as my best chance to score. To my relief, it worked.

It was 2-1 for New York now and as much as I enjoyed another goal on my resume and the lead, I knew never to count out the other team and especially Lauren. Right after kick-off, Orlando put in all their strength to tie again. The young woman with the number 10 on her back led the effort. She wasn’t working as much defensively anymore and focused on offense to force a goal. I tried to help my own teammates in trying to mark her but it was nearly an impossibility because she passed the ball quickly and ran off again every time.

So I wasn’t surprised when Lauren received the ball close to the penalty box and volleyed it with such force you barely saw it. The next thing I saw was the cross bar shaking because Lauren had hit it instead of the back of the net. A murmur went through the crowd and there were only a few minutes left. The suspense was breathtaking at this point.

Time was almost up and I was only helping out defense now to secure the lead. The ball was on the other side of the field and I walked closer to the penalty area because I saw the attackers and Lauren in there. I didn’t see it coming early enough but the ball was crossed in and assumed Dinah had it. The ball was coming her direction and all she had to do was clear. Only the ball never reached her. Seemingly out of nowhere, Lauren had made a run to catch the ball before Dinah with a diving header. The green-eyed woman put in her all and it worked out. The ball flew past the keeper and into the corner, ensuring Orlando another goal and tying the game at 2-2.

Of course the stadium was going crazy now and everyone was crushing Lauren who was still lying on the ground after that dangerous dive. Although I was very competitive and wanted to win at all times, the tie was fair because both teams deserved a point.

The final whistle blew and I collapsed on the field, barely able to catch my breath. Everyone around me was doing the same because we were exhausted. Closing my eyes, I took a few moments to regain energy and opened them again to see a pair of familiar green ones looking down at me. Lauren offered me her hand to get up and I accepted. We exchanged a quick hug like all the players after the game to keep it professional but her little smile made my heart flutter once more.

I couldn’t wait to shower and go out afterwards. We hadn’t had a lot of time last night and tonight was all about celebrating not only the great game but our engagement.

-

The planned celebration between only Lauren, Dinah and I had turned into a big party with many players from both teams. Many of us knew each other from the national team or even playing on the league several years. When word got out that Lauren and I had gotten engaged the night before, everyone wanted to celebrate with us. After dinner, the girls had suggested a nightclub and I had been rather hesitant.

The last time Lauren had been around large groups of people who drank excessively, she had been very anxious. My fiancee agreed to go and I had asked her again to make sure she wasn’t being pressured. I wasn’t drinking either but we ended up having a lot of fun. And apparently Dinah drank for the three of us. My best friend was pretty intoxicated but thankfully she was a pleasant drunk in comparison to some others. I was sitting next to Lauren whereas Dinah had sat down on the table right in front us and was talking nonstop.

"I can’t believe you’re seriously getting married,“ Dinah then said and shook her head in disbelief.

"Why?“ I asked in amusement.

"Because that shit only happens in movies,“ she continued. "You know, people always chasing each other and timing is never right and then at the end it works out.“

"You don’t believe in happy endings?“ Lauren questioned and took a sip from her soda.

"I do but…it seems so crazy to me,“ the Polynesian looked nostalgic. "Time flies. I still remember being fifteen, at youth camps, trying to keep Mila out of fights and hating you.“

"Wait, what?“ the green-eyed one nearly choked on her beverage. "You hated me?“

"Oh, come on. Don’t play with me, girl,“ Dinah laughed. "You knew that.“

"No, actually I didn’t,“ Lauren replied and seemed genuinely shocked.

"Really?“ my childhood friend asked in a high-pitched tone. "And Mila never told you either, huh? I knew you’re a good friend,“ she added and smiled at me.

"You knew?“ Lauren kinked an eyebrow and faced me.

"Everyone knew!“ I couldn’t help but laugh. "At least it’s good to know you were not just oblivious when it came to me but in general.“

"Why did you hate me?“ my fiancee focused on Dinah again.

"I love you now! You know that, right?“ Dinah put on her best smile. "But back then…you were no fun! You were always so serious. ‘I’m the captain. We have to practice. We have to win bla bla’.“

"That’s what being a captain is all about,“ Lauren argued.

"There we go,“ Dinah sipped from her cocktail and chuckled.

"I can’t believe you never told me,“ the oldest said to me but smirked. "You knew the entire time?“

"Oh yeah,“ I nodded and exchanged a grin with Dinah. "She used to get so annoyed with you.“

"Wow,“ Lauren pouted. "Alright, I see how it is.“

"Aw babe, that was years ago,“ I responded and took her hand in mine.

"Yeah, and I had no idea you were hooking up or I would have kept my mouth shut,“ Dinah chimed in. "I only found out later.“

"And I’m the secretive one,“ the Florida native countered in my direction.

"I used to be secretive but not anymore,“ I defended myself and knew it was all in playful nature. "Come on, I’ll buy you another soda as a consolation.“

"How gracious of you,“ Lauren laughed but gave in.

We walked through the crowded club and waited at the bar. It had been quite a while since I had gone out like this but we were enjoying ourselves and that was the whole point. Lauren was waiving at the barkeeper but he was serving a few other people before us. Standing behind her, I folded my arms around her waist and hugged her from behind. The music wasn’t too loud at the bar and pleasant especially because I loved the song they were playing. Gently rocking my body against Lauren, I started singing along loud enough so she’d hear.

[Major Lazor ft. Ellie Goulding & Tarrus Riley - Powerful]

"I couldn't leave if I wanted to Cause something keeps pulling me back to you From the very first time we loved From the very first time we touched The stroke of your fingers The scent of you lingers My mind running wild With thoughts of your smile“

She seemed to enjoy it and was moving with me, slowly dancing to my words until the barkeeper finally came over and acknowledged her order. With both hands full, each one holding a drink for us, she turned around and faced me but I was having too much fun with the song and kept singing to her. My arms still draped around her waist, I leaned in further until our faces were merely inches apart. Basically whispering the lyrics against her lips, I only placed a soft kiss against them before moving on to her ear.

"There's an energy When you hold me When you touch me It's so powerful I can feel it When you hold me When you touch me It's so powerful“

As I pulled away, the piercing green eyes dipped down time and time again to lock in on my lips and to my surprise I wasn’t feeling self-conscious singing to her. I knew her hands would be all over me if she hadn’t been holding the drinks but I liked being the playful one for a change. Usually she was teasing me and now I understood the appeal. The mixture of admiration, endearment but also passion and lust in the emerald orbs was a sight to see. It was disarming to have her look at me with that expression. 

The song ended and I gave in by pressing my lips against hers once more. Lauren kissed back with longing and my hands inadvertently clenched the fabric of her shirt so I had something to hold on to. Reciprocating in the same manner, I didn’t care in that moment whether or not other people were witnessing our heated kiss but simply relished the limited time we had together. 

Before we were able to go back, Lauren ran into some friends and I told her that I would go ahead to see if Dinah was doing okay.��My best friend had been drinking a lot and I didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone too long. Plus, I wanted Lauren to know that I trusted her and she didn’t have to be around me at all times. I returned to our seating area and joked with Dinah. She couldn’t get over the fact that Lauren hadn’t known about Dinah’s dislike for her all these years ago. It was fairly entertaining, I had to admit.

Some time passed but I didn’t really notice. Lauren finally returned and sat down next to me. She put one arm around me and we made conversation with various people. Seizing the opportunity when the others were talking among themselves, I cupped her face softly, turning her towards me and gently kissed her. As soon as I did, I backed away and looked straight into her eyes.

"Did you drink?“ I blurted out without thinking for a millisecond.

There was a very faint taste of alcohol in her breath and I noticed my heart racing all of a sudden. 

"No,“ Lauren shot back quickly and turned away to resume her conversation with the others.

However, I was confused. I hadn’t imagined the alcohol in her breath. Since I was sober as well, it was easy to distinguish. Her reaction was somewhat telling but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. We had never really discussed what her relationship to alcohol was nowadays. She had never said she was alcoholic. As far as I knew, she didn’t label herself as one but she admitted to a strained relationship with alcohol. Not wanting to judge, I didn’t know whether she was drinking in moderation by now or if that was even possible.

All I knew was that I didn’t want to fight - especially in front of everyone else. I let it go and decided to perhaps revisit the conversation at a different time.

Only that time would come sooner than I thought.

After a long night out and making sure Dinah got to her hotel safely, Lauren and I went back to her apartment. She was quiet and I was hoping this wasn’t the calm before the storm. I took off my jacket and shoes and felt incredibly exhausted. The game had taken its toll on my body and the long night wasn’t helping. The achy feeling in my muscles would only get worse tomorrow but there was a subtle ache in my heart as I watched Lauren that concerned me more. 

There was something bothering her, I saw it. I always did. But I also knew that she had a hard time opening up although we had made progress. I was tempted to go over and simply ask what was going on. However, by now I had learned to give her some space so she wouldn’t feel cornered. So that was what I did. I went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. When I came back, Lauren had not moved. She was still in the kitchen and looked out the window. There was only so much I could take and decided to go up to her.

"Hey,“ I said gently. "Are you coming to bed?“

No response. The green eyes looked out into the dark and it was only now that I noticed how glassy they were. Was she crying?

"I can’t do this,“ she finally replied in a quiet tone. "I don’t want to do this anymore, Camila.“

"What…are you talking about?“ I asked carefully and felt my pulse quickening. 

"I lied to you,“ Lauren whispered and turned towards me as my heart sunk.

"About what?“ 

"I…earlier when you asked me…I lied,“ she had a hard time finishing her sentence. "I did have a drink.“

The second she said it, I felt a confusing blend of relief and apprehension going through me. Relief because I had feared she was talking about our relationship. Apprehension because Lauren was obviously upset with herself. She looked at me filled with fear and I knew the best thing to do was not judge her. Therefore I remained calm and let her speak first.

"After we were at the bar and you went back to Dinah,“ my fiancee explained. "My friends bought me a shot to celebrate our engagement when I told them. The first reaction was to decline it like I usually do but there was that part of me that wanted to be normal and belong. So I took the shot and it was fine. I didn’t feel like I needed more but I felt guilty.“

I simply nodded and listened closely. The concern was evident on her face and she approached me slowly.

"When you asked me if I had a drink, I freaked out,“ she told me and took one of my hands in hers. "I didn’t want to lie to you and as soon as I did…I felt even worse. I’m so sorry.“

Of course I wasn’t pleased with the fact that she had lied to me. In fact, honesty was one of the things I valued most in our relationship. With the secretive tendencies and now lies, I was worried we might be in a worse place than I had thought. Taking a deep breath, I refocused and cleared my mind from all past hurts and fears that were close to resurfacing.

"I’m sorry,“ Lauren repeated clearly distressed about my silence.

"It’s okay,“ I whispered and smiled gently to reassure her. 

"No, it’s not,“ she argued. "And I-“

"It’s okay,“ I cut her off by placing one finger on her lips. "Even though I don’t like that you lied at first, I understand and it’s way more important to me that you told me the truth as soon as you did.“

"I feel like I keep messing up,“ she sighed deeply.

"Lauren, look at me,“ I breathed and found her meeting my gaze. "You’re going to mess up. And so will I. We’re people after all and no one’s perfect. I may not fully understand why you do certain things or react in certain ways but that’s okay. What you’re going through, I have no idea what it’s like. But I don’t think it’s easy. You’ve been doing amazing for the most part so little problems and mishaps are part of the journey. All I need you to know is that you can talk to me and I won’t judge. And I won’t abandon you.“

Although I felt a little hurt at first, there was this infinite compassion for Lauren that overshadowed any minor negative reactions. While a part of me wanted to be angry at her for lying, the bigger part of me knew that it wasn’t to hurt me. It was to protect herself. My wish was to gain her trust little by little in those moments so she wouldn’t feel like she had to protect herself with me. After all, that was what our love was about: understanding, supporting and caring for each other.

"How does someone like you even exist?“ Lauren asked with a small smile while her eyes still looked glassy. "Seriously, sometimes I wonder if you’re just a figment of my imagination.“

"I can assure I’m very real,“ I answered and reciprocated her smile.

"Thank God,“ she whispered tenderly and I sensed her relaxing. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you being with me but I love you so much.“

"You did just that,“ I said just as softly. "You love me. Even when I didn’t feel I deserved it but you always did. You fought for me so many times and I messed up a lot too. Yet you don’t see those things about me and I don’t see you as a burden either. Your struggles are part of you and therefore part of our journey. You have to understand that I don’t want you to perfect. We all have things we’re working on. I don’t see an end goal where everything is suddenly immaculate and then we’re happy forever. The goal is to be happy while being on the journey. And you make me happier than anyone else.“

I saw a little tear falling from the beautiful green eyes but Lauren quickly wiped it away. She took a deep breath and I heard how shaky it was. Apparently my words had struck a nerve and she wasn’t able to speak. Her response was just as good when she simply stepped closer and hugged me tightly. Closing my eyes, I buried my face in the crook of her neck and softly caressed her back. The tension in her body diminished and we held each other for a while before letting go.

A little later, Lauren had gotten ready for bed as well and joined me on the big mattress. I immediately cuddled up to her warm body to enjoy those moments of serenity and intimacy. She was lying on her back while I was on my side. My body was halfway draped around hers but I knew she didn’t mind. With her arm around me, I felt her hand softly stroking my back before I reached for the other one with mine. Interlacing our fingers, I could hear her heart softly beating since my head was resting on her chest.

"Camila?“ Lauren whispered.

"Yeah,“ I breathed and kept looking at our intertwined hands.

"What do you think about getting a new place in New York when I come back?“ she asked to my surprise.

"You don’t like my apartment?“ I was curious to find out where that idea came from.

"No, I do but it’s rather small,“ she pointed out. "Especially if Dinah is staying with us which seems to be the case,“ Lauren added with a light giggle.

"She hasn’t really made an effort to look for a place because I didn’t want her to,“ I admitted. "I liked having her with me.“

"I know and I think it’s great that you and Lara aren’t alone,“ she said sincerely. "I was just thinking that maybe we could get something new. I could design it and make it personal so it’s not just our own place but…our home.“

"That sounds nice,“ I smiled at the thought. "It’s a pretty big commitment though. Are you ready for that?“

"You mean a bigger commitment than this?“ Lauren laughed gently while rubbing her finger over my engagement ring.

"Right,“ I giggled this time.

"I’m ready,“ she confirmed anyway which made me smile once more. 

"I’ve been thinking about something as well,“ I confessed while lifting my head from her chest to look at her. "When we were at dinner with your mom, she said that you were doing very well out here. And it dawned on me that perhaps you might like being back in Florida. After all, it’s your home and if we’re talking about moving into a new place…should we consider Orlando? Is that a conversation we should have?“

"Look, I love Florida,“ Lauren said thoughtfully. "And I like being close to my family. But there’s nothing I love more than you and Lara. You’ve been moving around so much and now that you’re stable, I don’t want to disrupt that. Lara is in school and she has friends there. I don’t want her to give up on that and I’m used to living on the East Coast by now. Orlando is great and I enjoy it for what it is but I can’t wait to come back to New York.“

Listening to her, my heart was fluttering like crazy. The fact that she was considering Lara’s needs above all affirmed why I was so in love with her. Despite our little difficulties, our priorities always lined up and it was that commitment to one another that held everything together. 

"I can’t wait either,“ I replied honestly before realizing how long we were going to be separated again after tomorrow.

"What?“ she asked softly and apparently noticed the shift in my mood.

"Nothing, it’s just,“ I sighed deeply. "I’m going back tomorrow and we’re not going to see each other for almost four months.“

"I know,“ the other brunette whispered. "It’s the longest time we won’t get to be together but then it’s over.“

"I still hate it,“ I pouted lightly. "I can’t believe I’m going to be overseas with the national team when you come to New York for the second leg.“

"Yeah well…timing was never our strong suite,“ she said but leaned forward to kiss my cheek. "But I’ll get to see Lara hopefully. I miss the little one.“

"And she misses you,“ I returned and remembered many instances when my daughter would ask about Lauren.

"Good to know she misses Pancakes,“ Lauren added with a grin and I did the same. "When would be a good time to tell her about the tattoo?“

"Probably never,“ I teased.

"Sooner or later she’s going to see it. Maybe she’ll want a matching one that says ‘little one’,“ my fiancee clearly joked.

"Great!“ I laughed. "You do realize she’s seven, right?“

"Give it a few years,“ she chuckled.

"I don’t even want to think about that,“ I said and shook my head. "She’s growing up way too fast.“

"If she’s not getting one, you should get one instead,“ Lauren proposed still smiling.

"Oh really? And what would that say?“

"How about…Pancakes lover?“ she suggested while wiggling her eyebrows to which I simply rolled my eyes. "Pancakes devourer?“ she added and I playfully nudged her shoulder. "Ouch! What? You were the one saying how much you loved eating Pancakes?“

"You’re never going to let that one go, are you?“ I felt my cheeks burning up. "That’s why it’s better if I don’t drink either or else I’ll say things I’ll regret.“

"Are you hungry right now?“ Lauren was clearly trying to fluster me and laughed wholeheartedly as I slapped her arm.

She held on to my wrist afterwards and we got into a little playful scuffle that ended with Lauren pinning both of my arms on the mattress. Obviously she was stronger than me even if I was quicker. Out of breath from scrambling but also laughing, I looked up to the older one above me. The carefree expression on her face was the best way to end the night. Her hands loosened their grip as she bent down and placed a tender kiss on my lips. Freeing my arms, I put them around her waist to pull her closer. 

I felt her body settling against mine, her arms resting next to my head before one hand ran its fingers through my hair. It was almost like her arms were shielding me as well as her body. I wasn’t sure why but I felt protected whenever she did it. Nearly as if she was engulfing me and nothing else mattered. I knew she liked to be in control and perhaps this felt controlling to others but I loved the intensity of her. It allowed me to forget about everything else and be in the moment with her as she deepened every kiss a little more.

With both of us being exhausted from a very long and tiring day, it was exhilarating to share that physical intimacy. Still, after a little while of kissing and caressing each other, Lauren stopped kissing my lips and left only few soft kisses on my cheek. Burying her face in the crook of my neck next, I absolutely relished having her this close to me. Tracing her spine with my hand, the sound of her gentle breathing against my neck was calming me down. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep and I tried doing the same.

The thought of not being able to do this for the next almost four months snuck up again but I tried my hardest not to focus on it. We had the longest period being apart ahead of us and I was only hoping it wouldn’t be as hard as I imagined it to be now.

—–

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone. It’s taking me a while but here it is. I hope you liked it since it’s a rather long chapter, I think. 

Thank you for the overwhelmingly positive feedback on the last one. It definitely reassured me that I’m right in my decision to continue the story despite everything that’s going on. 

As always, feedback is appreciated. Thank you and have a lovely Sunday - Jazmin

[lesbianrewrites]

Sorcerer’s Stone Chapter 07

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of Harry Potter by J.K Rowling.

Chapters will be posted every Monday, Wednesday & Friday around 9-10pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, white-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Hayley’s first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hayley could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville’s cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Raine’s smudged nose. Hayley nervously tried to fix up her long curly hair.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”

She left the chamber. Hayley swallowed.

“How exactly do they sort us into Houses?” she asked Raine.

“Some sort of test, I think. Frankie said it hurts a lot, but I think she was joking.”

Hayley’s heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But she didn’t know any magic yet — what on earth would she have to do? She hadn’t expected something like this the moment they arrived. She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she’d learned and wondering which one she’d need. Hayley tried hard not to listen to her. She’d never been more nervous, never, not even when she’d had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that she’d somehow turned her teachers wig blue. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to her doom.

Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air — several people behind her screamed.

“What the — ?”

She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —”

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?”

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

“New students!” said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?”

A few people nodded mutely.

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old House, you know.���

“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.”

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”

Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Hayley got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Raine behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Hayley had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Hayley looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.”

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn’t simply open on to the heavens.

Hayley quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard’s hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have let it in the house.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Hayley thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,

But don’t judge on what you see,

I’ll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There’s nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can’t see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you’ve a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You’ll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don’t be afraid!

And don’t get in a flap!

You’re in safe hands (though I have none)

For I’m a Thinking Cap!”

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

“So we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Raine whispered to Hayley. “I’ll kill Frankie, she was going on about wrestling a troll.”

Hayley smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Hayley didn’t feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a House for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause —

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Hayley saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Hayley could see Raine’s twin sisters catcalling.

“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Hayley’s imagination, after all she’d heard about Slytherin, but she thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

She was starting to feel definitely sick now. She remembered being picked for teams during gym at her old school. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked her.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Sometimes, Hayley noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. “Finnigan, Seamus,” the sandy-haired boy next to Hayley in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

“GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Raine groaned.

A horrible thought struck Hayley, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if she wasn’t chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had obviously been a mistake and she’d better get back on the train?

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR,” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to “MacDougal, Morag.”

Malfoy swaggered forward when her name was called and got her wish at once: the hat had barely touched her head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”

Malfoy went to join her friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with herself.

There weren’t many people left now.

“Moon” … , “Nott” … , “Parkinson” … , then a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil” … , then “Perks, Sally-Anne” … , and then, at last —

“Potter, Hayley!”

As Hayley stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

“Potter, did she say?”

“The Hayley Potter?”

The last thing Hayley saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in her ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting. … So where shall I put you?”

Hayley gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” said the small voice. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you’re sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!”

Hayley heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” Hayley sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she’d seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Hayley the sudden, horrible feeling she’d just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Hayley grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Hayley recognized him at once from the card she’d gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore’s silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Hayley spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young woman from the Leaky Cauldron. She was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” a Black boy even taller than Raine, joined Hayley at the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Raine’s turn. They were pale green by now. Hayley crossed her fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Hayley clapped loudly with the rest as Raine collapsed into the chair next to her.

“Well done, Raine, excellent,” said Percy Weasley pompously across Hayley as “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Hayley looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!”

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Hayley didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

“Is he — a bit mad?” she asked Percy uncertainly.

“Mad?” said Percy airily. “He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Hayley?”

Hayley’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Hayley, but she’d never been allowed to eat as much as she liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Hayley really wanted, even if it made him sick. Hayley piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

“That does look good,” said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Hayley cut up her steak.

“Can’t you — ?”

“I haven’t eaten for nearly five hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.”

“I know who you are!” said Raine suddenly. “My sisters told me about you — you’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

“I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —” the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

“Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?”

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn’t going at all the way he wanted.

“Like this,” he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, “So — new Gryffindors! I hope you’re going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baroness is becoming almost unbearable — she’s the Slytherin ghost.”

Hayley looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. She was right next to Malfoy who, Hayley was pleased to see, didn’t look too happy with the seating arrangements.

“How did she get covered in blood?” asked Seamus with great interest.

“I’ve never asked,” said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding …

As Hayley helped herself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

“I’m half-and-half,” said Seamus. “Me dad’s a Muggle. Mom didn’t tell him she was a witch ’til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him.”

The others laughed.

“What about you, Neville?” asked Raine.

“Well, my gran brought me up and she’s a witch,” said Neville, “but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.”

On Hayley’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons (“I do hope they start right away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult —”; “You’ll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing —”).

Hayley, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in her absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Hayley’s eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Hayley’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Hayley clapped a hand to her head.

“What is it?” asked Percy.

“N-nothing.”

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Hayley had gotten from the teachers look — a feeling that he didn’t like Hayley at all.

“Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” she asked Percy.

“Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder she’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to — everyone knows he’s after Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.”

Hayley watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn’t look at her again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Hayley laughed, but she was one of the few who did.

“He’s not serious?” she muttered to Percy.

“Must be,” said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. “It’s odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we’re not allowed to go somewhere — the forest’s full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least.”

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Hayley noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they’re bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot,

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.”

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Hayley’s legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food. She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Hayley was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

“Peeves,” Percy whispered to the first years. “A poltergeist.” He raised his voice, “Peeves — show yourself.”

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

“Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baroness?”

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

“Oooooooh!” he said, with an evil cackle. “Ickle Firsties! What fun!”

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

“Go away, Peeves, or the Baroness’ll hear about this, I mean it!” barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville’s head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

“You want to watch out for Peeves,” said Percy, as they set off again. “The Bloody Baroness’ the only one who can control him, he won’t even listen to us prefects. Here we are.”

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

“Password?” she said.

“Caput Draconis,” said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls, along with Raine, through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

“Great food, isn’t it?” Raine muttered to Hayley through the hangings. “Get off, Scabbers! He’s chewing my sheets.”

Hayley was going to ask Raine if they’d had any of the treacle tart, but she fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Hayley had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. She was wearing Professor Quirrell’s turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Hayley told the turban she didn’t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at her as she struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Hayley woke, sweating and shaking.

She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn’t remember the dream at all.