It was so fucking hot. It seemed like the hottest day we'd had all summer, the air thick and heavy with humidity. Oppressive. It made it hard to breathe. My asthma-laden lungs had enough trouble with the smoggy LA air, and now this... My chest burned. And wouldn't it just fucking figure that we'd be moving on that day of all days. Just the simple task of lifting a box was taking everything out of me, my muscles straining in protest. I was drenched in sweat. And where was everybody else?

Where the fuck were my mates? Sitting around wanking it in the AC probably.

I was out there doing all the heavy lifting, and they were nowhere to be found. Even Liam had retreated inside. But for fuck's sake, the truck had to be back by 6 or we'd get charged another day. And we had barely scraped enough to rent it for this one day. If the Rent-a-Mover charged my card for a second day, I'd be overdrawn. I'd be fucked. I'd be starving for the next two weeks.

Liam wandered out and grabbed a box from my arms. "Haz you should take a breather. Cool off for a minute." I shook my head, droplets of sweat flinging from my hair. "Go on, I'll carry on unloading." What I really wanted was for the rest of these arseholes to get their lazy bums out here and help. But as I was the youngest of the lot, they rarely listened to me. Frustrating as fuck.

"Nah, I'm all right. Rather get it done."

"Haz, I don't want you overheating out here. Go take a breather."

I was spent, if I'm honest. The heat had sapped my energy, and I was grateful for the break. The semi-detached we were leasing from my Uncle Sal only had a couple of wall air conditioners, so even inside was hot. But I stood for several minutes directly under the vent and let the cool air bring my temperature down. Then I grabbed a bottle of water and guzzled it in one. But there wasn't time to lallygag around. We had shit to do. I called for the others to come help.

"Hey, you arseholes!" Maybe not the most effective form of motivation, in retrospect. "Get down here and help!" I couldn't be bothered to actually walk up the stairs, nor to wait for their response.

I went back out and joined Liam. "Hey."

"Ah, you look better already." Liam grinned then grunted, lifting a huge box of books. "Help me out here, mate."

I grabbed the other side of the box, and we lugged it up the walk to the porch.

"I'll finish getting the stuff out," I proposed. "I can just rest the lot of it on the path, and you all can carry it inside."

Liam went back to the truck with me anyway, grabbing another box. "I'll help."

"All right. Get on." I shoved him. He nearly toppled over with the box in hand. "Better yet, go get those slackers on their feet and working for a change." He chuckled as he walked back towards the front door.

I'm glanced at my phone to check the time. Fuck. It was nearly time to get this piece of shit back to the rental facility. I shook my head in irritation. Arseholes. I kicked the last couple of boxes from the back of the cargo hold to the edge of the truck and dropped them onto the lawn beside the pedestrian footpath. Liam hadn't returned yet, and there were still some black garbage bags filled with clothes, a couple lamps, and a bean bag chair.

In a fit of frustration, I picked the bean bag chair up and tossed it out of the truck, wishing I would hit my band mates who were off doing god knows what. I heard a grunt. Shit. Oh, shit, I hit someone all right.

"Oh shit, sorry," I called as I reached the edge of the backend. I saw this fit girl, doubled over, and I panicked. I thought I had well and truly hurt her. You. "Are you all right?" I asked, quite nervous.

You stood upright, and I nearly choked on my own tongue. I nearly lost my breath. God, even sweaty, red-faced from running, no make-up, you were absolutely stunning. "Yeah, I'm fine." It was odd. Your voice was so familiar to me, so many years watching you on telly. Hearing you--seeing you--live, in person, god it made my heart race.

I jumped out of the truck and walked over, trying to figure out what the hell I could possibly say or do to make this shit situation better. "Holy shit. You're Maddie Turner." Fuck. Of all the stupid fucking things to say. You know your own goddamn name. I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment and prayed that you would just think it was the weather and not the fact that I was a fumbling fool.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, and I felt like an absolute ass. Here was this beautiful girl I had fantasized about for so long, right in front of me, and I was cocking it all up. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, hoping you wouldn't notice them shaking.

I had to fix this mess. I swallowed down my embarrassment and looked you in the eyes. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have just chucked that thing out like that." I can't quite explain the way your eyes captivated me, so dark, so...sad. I could see there was so much behind them, and I just wanted to know everything. Not the crap that the media had to offer, but the real you. I wanted to know what was behind those eyes.

You shook your head, seeming to dismiss the issue, your face impassive. "It's fine. Really, I'm fine." And then Jesus fucking hell, to borrow an expression from you. You smiled.

And my whole world stopped.

But the smile didn't reach your eyes, I noticed. I wanted to say something, do something to change that. But I was frozen. Completely starstruck, struck dumb.

"What the hell is taking so long, Haz?" Shit. Liam stood by the front door, his hands on his hips, and you regarded him with interest. Liam and I have watched your show together for the last eight years, been best friends for as long as that. We've spent our whole adolescence together, watching you grow up from afar, falling for you from afar. His mouth dropped open when he finally recognised you. "Oh my god! Maddie! I love Turning Pages. All my friends and I, oh my god, we just all had such a crush on you back in the day, but you're even lovelier in person. Oh my god." He babbled like a fucking moron. I couldn't help smiling along as he made a bigger and bigger fool of himself, rambling on about what a fan he was.

You smiled at him so sweetly, and I was so fucking jealous. My heart thudded in my chest, seeing your eyes crinkle at the edges, noticing how your eyebrow raised slightly as he talked. How you chewed the inside of your bottom lip, as if you were hiding a smile. How you pushed a wisp of hair out of your eyes, your nails painted bright lime green.

"Oh, um, I'm Liam, by the way," the idiot finally said, holding out his hand.

You took his hand. I clenched mine, still in my pockets, into fists. I would never hit him. But I could barely contain the jealousy I felt, even though I had no claim on you. "Nice to meet you," you said, your voice holding a hint of laughter. Oh god, and then you turned toward me. Maddie, god, I don't think you know how beautiful you are. I was breathless and hopeless and totally enamored. "And you are?"

I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, trying to get it to work. I felt like such an idiot, barely able to utter even my own name. "I'm sorry again, for the cushion."

And then you rolled your eyes at me again. Liam got smiles. I got eye rolls. Fucking gutted. Devastated. I clearly had no chance.

Liam added fucking fuel to the fire. "What do you mean, you're sorry, Harry? What did you do?" He scowled at me like he was my father rather than my friend.

You laughed, and I don't think I've ever heard a sound I like better. I would forego ever hearing music again in my life, so long as I could still hear you laughing. "He bounced a bean bag chair off my head like I was a duck in a shooting gallery at a carnival," you replied. And then you walked back and forth, almost doing Mick Jagger's rooster moves. It was so fucking cute. Adorable. You were every bit as funny and lovable as your character on tv.

And then Liam fucking hit me on the shoulder, gritting his teeth, "I can't believe you hit Maddie Turner. Are you fucking nuts."

Which made you laugh so hard, your head thrown back. Your neck stretched, long and pale. I wanted to kiss you then and there, on your neck. On your delicate, thin lips. Fuck. I nearly worked myself into a semi. I looked away, trying to think of something to say or do.

I wasn't the one making you laugh. I wasn't the one making you smile.

I lost track of the conversation for a minute, lost in my own thoughts, but I heard Liam say, "Oh, there are five of us."

"Where are they, anyway?" I asked Liam, desperate to contribute to the conversation, desperate for you not to go before I had a chance make you smile. But I was so lame. Talking to him instead of you.

Liam shook his head. "Around. Avoiding any kind of work."

You started moving off down the path. No. Fucking no. Don't go.

"Well, I have had a hell of a long day, so I'm going to finish my run. See you around." You turned before I could answer. Maddie Turner just stumbled into my life and I blew it, too shy, too nervous to say much of anything.

Liam could barely contain his excitement. "Maddie fucking Turner."

I patted him on the shoulder. "All right, mate. Calm down." Lucky fucking bastard. "Let me get this truck back, and I'll pick us up some dinner, yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure." We got the last few things out of the back, and I drove down the hill to the Rent-a-Mover, replaying every moment of our interaction the whole way there.

It was five past six when I got there, parking the truck in the assigned spot. I waited in a twenty-minute line before I could officially turn the damn thing in. And then they tried to charge me the extra day. I argued that I'd been standing in the fucking line since before six. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt 'em. They finally gave in, and as I was leaving, Liam rang me up.

"Hey, did you get it back okay?" He sounded weird.

I ran my hand over my face, so tired and frustrated. "Yeah, just finished up now. They tried to charge me another day, but I worked it out." All I wanted was to get home and take a shower, but I still had to call for a taxi and wait around for it.

"Ahh, good. Glad to hear it. Hey, guess what just happened!"

"What." I couldn't be bothered to make it into a question, so irritated was I at this point.

"She came back."

"Who?"

"Maddie. She came back right now with a bag of sandwiches from Sal's."

"Shut up." I was so pissed I wasn't there, yet I was grinning, pushing through the the door to the parking lot.

"Yeah, she met the others, too."

"Oh god, please tell me they didn't do or say anything to embarrass us." I bit my lip, imagining Louis telling you about the collection of posters that lined my bedroom wall in our last place. There would have been a murder, if that were the case. I pondered whether to rehang them here. (I did.)

"Nah, it was fine, mate. She--"

I looked up, and found you sitting in your car, the window down, your hair down around your face, sticking to your forehead in places. "She's here," I told him, smiling. I couldn't believe it. What the fuck.

Maybe I did have a chance?

You watched me with amusement. This tiny smile pulling at your lips. I wanted to pull at your lips with mine.

And Jesus. The dress. You had on this white sundress with little yellow and green flowers on it, your shoulders all freckled, cute and sexy at the same time. And it was clear you had no bra on, the way your breasts lolled against the fabric, the faint outline of your areolas. I don't mean to be crass, but I was salivating.

I tried to play it cool, leaning into your window, hoping you didn't notice that I was hard in my jeans.

You wouldn't look at me, though. And I felt utterly lost and confused. "What are you doing here?" It made no sense.

You pointed at the passenger seat and offered me a ride. I didn't understand what the hell was happening. But I didn't care. I hurried around the front of your car as if you might change your mind, smiling out of my mind. I tried to tame the smile before I got in the car, hoping I didn't look like a total goofball.

The car ride home was agonising. My heart was beating so loud, it was all I could hear. And I didn't want to be a total creep, so I made a point of not staring at you. The silence stretched on, and I just kept chastising myself. Say something, you idiot. Say something to make her smile. Make her laugh. Anything. Don't blow your second chance.

"I like your nails." Second chance officially blown. Fuck.

You pulled a face, looking at your nails. "Thanks." Goddamn it. Why couldn't I have said something cooler. Better. Fuck. I'm such a loser.

You looped the car around in a crazy maneuver outside my place, and pulled to a stop. That's it, I thought. I've wasted another opportunity. To impress Maddie Turner. To impress you.

"Thanks," I muttered, just absolutely beating myself up on the inside.

"Sure. See you."

I got out and watched you circle back around the intersection and drive up the hill, away. And all I could think was how massively I had blown it. How much I wished I could do it over again. How absolutely lovely you were.

~~~~~

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