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It’s not a date.
It’s not.
They are just two friends who got dumped by their friends and happen to be at the same place at the same time. A place and a time they agreed upon previously. Together.
It’s not a date.
At least, that’s what James tells himself over and over, though as time goes by he really can’t tell why it isn’t one.
He is alone with Lily, after all, the girl he has had a crush on since forever—it’s since Fourth Year, but he doesn’t remember ever fancying anyone before that—just the two of them enjoying each other’s company. It was not supposed to be like that. They had exchanged letters a lot that Summer and when Lily mentioned a Muggle carnival happening in a park in London, James had jumped at the opportunity of going there with her.
Not just him, of course, this was all for Sirius’ interest in Muggle culture, or so James had expressly written in the letter back to her. And if James’ friends would go, then it wasn’t a date; he loved his friends, but he didn’t bring them to a date.
Except Sirius cancelled at the last time, Peter had owled him saying he couldn’t come and Remus had said he was feeling under the weather, all in the last possible minute, so James couldn’t warn Lily in time to reschedule. He had gone to the park, feeling strangely awkward, and to his surprise, Lily had shown up alone too. He had expected her friends to be there with her—they had formed a nice group of friends in the last year—, but he supposed she was equally dumped by her friends.
James had guessed they would cancel, but instead of looking upset, Lily had just smiled at him, her cheeks coloured because of the warm sunny day—though it was already dusk—and had just asked him what he wanted to do first.
And that is how James finds himself on a date with Lily.
Except it isn’t a date.
He knows this is not one, no matter how much he wishes things were different. If it were a date, he would have grabbed her hand when they went to that roller coaster that he really doubted if it was safe (though he kept quiet and faced it bravely); or he would have pulled her closer when they left the spinning ride, holding her in his arms until the world stopped dizzying around them.
And most of all he’d not have enjoyed the view from the giant wheel if they were on a date. Instead, James would have gathered his courage to place his arm around Lily’s bare shoulder, with some excuse about keeping her warm—even though the summer night was warm enough—that Lily would accept because it would be a date. She’d bit her lip to avoid a smile at his clumsy excuse, her eyes shining with the shadow of her amusement, and James’ attention would be diverted to her lips; she’d open them in a quiet invitation, and when he’d look back at her eyes, her answer would be ready even before he’d make the question.
And then, finally, he’d approach her, lips brushing tenderly in a way he could feel her smile before…
Before nothing, because they are not on a date and James doesn’t want to mess up their friendship.
That’s what they are. Friends. Who are certainly not on a date.
After the giant wheel, he gives up on any ride. Those eight minutes were enough to make him crawl up the walls, his treacherous mind unable to drift away from the fact that he was alone with Lily in an enclosed cabin and James doesn’t think he can survive another emotion like that.
They stop for a quick dinner and Lily introduces him to popcorn and his favourite rainbow cotton candy.
‘This can’t be normal,’ he mumbles, watching as the vendor prepares him the cotton candy.
‘It’s magic,’ she teases him. She picks up the cotton candy and eats a mouthful with a challenging expression on her face, but James doesn’t concentrate on this. If he’d kiss her now, James knows he would taste all the sugar on her lips.
His mouth gets dry.
He eats the cotton candy in a quiet silence after that, careful to look at everywhere but to his side, where Lily stands carefully licking the candy out of her fingers.
This is not a date; this is pure torture.
After that, James supposes he should tell her it’s late and they should go home, but Lily grabs him by the hand—her fingers entwining with his as if this is the most normal thing ever, as if her hand isn’t so warm and soft, as if that touch doesn’t make him burn with longing for more —and pulls him to the game tents.
‘This is what I told you about,’ she says brightly, referring to her latest letter and her vivid descriptions of Muggle carnivals. ‘You are gonna love this.’
James isn’t sure he is capable of loving anything else that night, but he doesn’t say anything.
He tries to focus on the games; the first ones are lucky games, and James’ luck doesn’t favour him. Lily gets a cartoonish fawn plushie, which she gives him.
‘It reminds me of you,’ she says, amused with her own thoughts, and James smiles at the coincidence.
‘Well, I should get you something then.’
Her eyes widen, a curious expression there that James doesn’t understand. They are in the middle of a row with game tents, children running around them, a mess of sounds and lights, and somehow he feels they are the only ones in the world when Lily takes a step closer to him, her hand placing an invisible strand of her hair behind her ear.
‘And what will you get me, Potter?’
It’s been a while since Lily has called him by his surname, but it sounds nice; not exactly friendly, but… provocative.
And though the moment is completely different from when they were at the giant wheel, James feels again that urge to move forward, to cup her face, lower his head and…
Not a date.
He turns his head hurriedly, cricking his neck in the process, and his eyes fall on a giant plush lion.
‘A lion!’, he cries, making her jump. ‘I will get you a lion, come on.’
Lily raises her eyebrows, but he doesn’t wait for her answer. James doubts he can control his impulse if they stay this close longer, so he walks towards the game tent; as far as he can tell, it’s easy: all he needs to do is throw an orange ball through a hoop. The person in front of him in the line is bad at it for some reason, but James is a chaser and a good one. He can do this.
‘Oh-oh,’ Lily mumbles at his side. ‘You’re gonna lose money here, James.’
‘How come?’
‘This game is nearly impossible to win.’
James frowns. He looks around, but no other tent has the same plush lion and he already promised he would give one to Lily.
‘I got this,’ he says confidently. When Lily still looks nervous, he winks at her, which, for some reason, makes her look away, a flush coming to her cheeks even as she shakes her head.
James doesn’t get this. He swears he throws the ball perfectly, but the first one bounces in the hoop, the second one doesn’t even hit the hoop and the third one is thrown too much to the left.
He pays another coin.
‘One more time.’
Lily joins him for a few rounds; her throws aren’t much better than his, but they aren’t worse either, which somehow baffles James. He is a good chaser, he holds the current record of goals in a game. He should get this stupid Muggle game.
‘I think we are getting good at this,’ Lily tells him ironically by their eighth or ninth attempt when the latest ball twirls around the hoop before missing it.
‘I am a disaster ,’ James admits, when his last coin is spent fruitlessly. The ball refuses to pass through the hoop.
‘You are not,’ Lily assures him. She seems more amused by his reaction than upset he was a failure.
‘I couldn’t make a single goal. That’s it. I’m resigning as Quidditch Captain.’
‘Because of one rigged Muggle game?’ Lily shakes her head. ‘I told you, it’s not made for anyone to win. The hoop is not round, the ball bounces too easily.’
‘Why is this even allowed?’
‘For the fun of it,’ she tells him, and then she bits her lip in a way James has seen before; she is nervous, gathering courage for something. When their gazes meet, her expression relaxes; her eyes are shining under the lights of the carnival. ‘I had fun,’ she says softly.
‘Watching me make a fool of myself?’
‘Not this. Even if we didn’t win… you have this expression when you are concentrated in a game, all focused like when you are flying as if nothing could distract you and… it’s nice to watch.’
‘You enjoy watching me?’ he repeats, fazed, because now he has said it out loud, it feels like there is some meaning behind it that he can’t quite grasp, something too unfathomable until this moment.
‘Well, I wouldn’t have asked you out if I didn’t,’ she says, her voice sounding half as if this is obvious, half as if she is embarrassed by it. ‘Come on, you can spend my last coin trying to hit the darts there.’
She walks to the next tent without looking at him, her face still flushed, and James takes a while to follow her because his mind is still frozen.
Asked him out? Surely she doesn’t mean like that . Lily didn’t ask him out , she just mentioned a Carnival and told him it would be fun to go there and James had agreed… And Lily knows his friends should come and one does not bring friends to a date.
But Lily’s friends are not there yet.
‘Too bad Mary couldn’t come,’ he says slowly as he tries to aim the dart in his hand. It’s easy to pretend all his concentration is on that hit instead of waiting for her answer.
‘Oh, I didn’t call her,’ Lily says, her voice nonchalant, and James misses the dart completely. This time, he doesn’t complain.
James doubts he could form a sentence. His brain doesn’t seem to be working at all; nothing seems to be making sense, because if he could think thoroughly, then… then he would need to accept that Lily asked him out and then they are on a… No, that would be impossible, they are just friends who happen to have spent an afternoon all by themselves…
The lights of the park start to go out and they walk towards the exit; at least, when they reach the place they met—carefully out of Muggle’s prying eyes—Lily turns to watch him. She looks somewhat nervous as if she is expecting something .
‘I had fun today,’ she says at least when James stays silent. There is an underlying question in her voice that James knows how to answer.
‘I… me too.’
Lily looks relieved. ‘Good.’
‘Sorry for not getting you a gift—you can keep this fawn until—’
‘No, keep Bambi.’ She hesitates a little, her head lowering enough not to look him directly in the eyes. ‘You can get me a lion on the next date.’
‘I will—what?’
‘A lion. Or anything, really, I don’t know where I would—’
‘No, you said… a date.’
‘Yeah, well.’ She rolls her eyes as if it is nothing, though her cheeks are coloured.
‘This isn’t a date.’
‘Oh.’ Now Lily looks even more embarrassed, taking a step back. ‘I had thought… okay. Sorry.’
She looks away now, seemingly wishing to just disappear, but James knows whatever she is feeling is nothing like his current panic.
‘This couldn’t be a date. I would know if it were one.’ She turns back to him, a disbelieving expression on her face. James flushes. ‘I think.’
‘That’s okay, James, really. I just… don’t think of today as a date if you—’
‘Tomorrow,’ he interrupts her hurriedly. ‘Let’s come back here tomorrow. No, wait. Evans.’ He takes a deep breath, his heart beating too fast on his chest. He needs to do this right. ‘Would you like to go out with me tomorrow?’
He knows her answer even before she says anything just by the light on her eyes.
‘I’d love to, James.’
‘Then it’s a date.’
Lily beams, a bold expression coming to her face; it was the same she had before facing all the rides of the park, and she takes a step closer to him, rising on her tiptoes and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
It feels better than that whooping sensation he got on the roller coaster.
‘See you tomorrow,’ she whispers, and then she disappears on the spot.
James raises his hand to touch where she kissed. Tomorrow will be their second date. He can’t wait for it.
“Dear Sirius,
Your best friend is under the impression I invited you over too. I didn’t; I can show you a Muggle Carnival some other time.
Please make up a good excuse to not crash our date tomorrow.
Hope you are enjoying this summer.
Lots of love,
Lily.”