She Likes a Boy
Strawberry lipgloss, oh, it’s wasted
on this dumb boy who likes the chase
but why am I so angry in the first place?
why am I hurting?
___________
If you ask her, Lily Evans would honestly tell you that she does not give a fuck about silly little people on their silly little phones “influencing” others to do shit or buy shit or eat shit. If you ask her at the office, Lily Evans has a list of “influencers” for every one of her clients. She’s just that thorough. If you ask her on a day off, hell, if you ask her in the break room, Lily Evans would show you how she has 99% of those people blocked on her personal account so it doesn’t disturb her peaceful doom scrolling time.
If you ask her right this moment, Lily Evans would rather not be on a plane to Scotland to meet another pretentious influencer for another annoying campaign, that she spearheaded, but well. At least it’s somewhere nice.
Lily didn’t choose a career in marketing, she barely cared for it. She was a writer, she sort of still is, even if it’s only to herself. Anyways, Lily is a writer, that’s what she’s always wanted to do. It always felt off, though, the thought of capitalizing off of her words, making money from her emotions on a piece of paper or that character she projected too much on. So, marketing it was. She still gets to create, which she takes as a win. Albeit it’s not the same, with restrictions and guidelines and taboos and brands and, and, and.
She doesn’t hate her job, not really. She hates the concept of a job altogether, which she can never find a replacement for, because she’ll go broke, starve, and live on the streets. So, well, she endures. And if it gets her on a flight to Edinburgh in autumn, she is not going to complain (She will quite literally never shut up).
Lily has been trying to act “normal” or some semblance of it since that night she stormed James’s apartment. They didn’t really talk about it. Nothing beyond the tears and Lily sitting on his floor. Regulus joined them eventually, took one look at Lily, and wordlessly sat next to her on the floor, he kept his hand in the middle, an offer, that Lily took, and cried again.
While James was one of her best friends, Lily considered Regulus her person. He competed with Remus for that title more often than not, but they were Lily’s people. They knew a less concealed version of Lily Evans. A version that was not available to the public. But even that version, didn’t possess everything Lily was feeling, didn’t voice Lily’s deepest secrets and biggest fears. It didn’t need to, though. They got it. Remus and Regulus always get it.
Needless to say, Lily has not told a soul about coming to terms with being a lesbian, or trying to. Well, no one except James, but she’s giving herself a pass because she was apologizing, doing the right thing, making sure her friend was okay.
On the floor of James and Regulus’s apartment, Lily breathed through her sobs. Her hand in Regulus’s and James’s calm demeanor a comforting presence. They stayed like this for a while. Until Lily pulled herself together, or as together as she could’ve possibly mustered, got up, and headed towards the door. She turned to look at them, gave them a small, grateful smile, and left. They didn’t question her. Well, Regulus didn’t. James wasn’t as Lily attuned as Regulus was, so he texted. At first, it was a lot of “Are you home safe?” and “Are you feeling okay?” and “Do you want to talk about it?”. When he didn’t get a response to those, he started sending the silliest TikToks, which Lily did appreciate enough to react to his texts and that was that.
Regulus, on the other hand, waited exactly 3 days before he texted a simple “?” followed by a “if you don’t respond, i’ll call Remus” a few days later. Which brings Lily here, on the floor once again, at her apartment, cross-legged between Regulus and Remus, telling them she’s going to Edinburgh for the autumn.
“What the actual fuck?” Regulus asks. “You come by my apartment like what, a week ago, to say god knows what to James, he wouldn’t tell me by the way, and then you’re fucking off to Scotland?”
Lily winces at his words. At the same time, she felt incredibly grateful to James, who has always known when to intervene and when not to. When to say a thing, and when to let others do it. “I was apologizing to him,” She says
”To whom? James?” Remus asks from Lily’s other side. She nods. “For what?”
”For not going out with him in high school?” It comes out more as a question than a statement, which was not really intentional, but Lily felt extremely anxious.
“Once again, what the actual fuck?” Regulus repeated. “Let me get this straight; you are out god knows where on a random Sunday, you remember that you didn’t go out with James in high school, thanks for that by the way, and decide to come apologize at 3 am?”
”When you put it that way, it does sound insane,”
”Because it is,” Regulus sighs. “But, it’s you and you would’ve changed the subject if this was not leading up to something, so go on, we’re listening.”
Lily sighs, Remus’s thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on her palm. “It was a Thursday night,” She starts.
Lily recounts the events as best she could, making sure she not only conveyed the incident, but also the feelings. She had another pointless argument with her so-called boss, so she left early, shocking she’s aware. Anyways, she wound up at the pub two blocks down the road. She was idly scrolling on my phone, drink in hand, when she came across a picture that she swiped on too fast. She thought she caught a glimpse of something, so she went back, and there it was: a picture of Mary, a huge ring on her finger, and a man looking at her like she hung the fucking moon.
Lily choked on her drink. Lily could not breathe. Lily was having a panic attack, alone, at a pub on a Thursday night. She tried grounding herself, taking in her surroundings, tried the breathing exercises her therapist was always raving about. But it wasn’t helping, she was trapped. She was having a panic attack at a pub while Mary was getting engaged. To a man.
Lily stops her story and goes silent for a while. It’s Remus who speaks first. “When Sirius showed me the picture, all I could think about was you. I texted you then. I didn’t want to straight up ask if you’d seen it. I didn’t know what to say. How to check in without drawing attention in case you did not actually see it,”
“Your text actually got me out of my panic that day,” Lily smiled at Remus, her eyes a bit glossy.
Lily’s phone buzzed in her hands. The sensation somewhat bringing her back to reality. She looked at her phone to see a text from Remus. Actually, multiple texts. He was on about some argument he had with Sirius over the superiority of werewolves over vampires. Lily could not help herself, she laughed. And then she cried. A lot. Lily was pretty sure she looked downright insane. Her mascara was running down her face, her legs were still shaking, and she was straight up sobbing in the corner booth of a pub, two blocks away from her office.
“I’m guessing there is more,” Regulus says and Lily gives a humorless laugh.
”Wouldn’t be a Lily Evans special if there wasn’t more,” She says bitterly.
Lily eventually got her crying under control. Her anxiety to a cold 7 instead of a flaming hot 10. Her shaking to minimal. She got up, dusted herself off and headed to the bathroom. She washed her hands and just stared at the mirror. She could see her makeup all smudgy, her face sweaty, her appearance just overall messy, disheveled. Lily took a deep breath, washed her face clean, reapplied her signature winged liner, and headed outside. She could do this.
She sat by the bar and ordered another drink. She was toying with her cup when a man took a seat next to her. Lily didn’t pay him any notice, twirling her drink around. He tapped on the bar to get her attention. Once, she ignored it. Twice, she ignored it. Three times, and she turned her head.
He threw a couple of flirtatious comments, touched her arm and just smugly asked. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Lily wanted to throw up.
“I did actually. Throw up, I mean.” She sighs as she recounts the scene in her head. “I didn’t even look at him, I just got up, headed to the door, threw up in a nearby alley, and went home.”
Remus was still rubbing circles on her palm. His other hand went to take out his pack of cigarettes and hand it to Regulus. Regulus lit a cigarette, took a drag, and passed it to Lily.
“And then?” Remus asks as Lily took a drag and passes him the cigarette.
Lily somehow managed to make it home. She kicked off her shoes, went straight into her room, and collapsed on the floor. She stared at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. The sound of her living room clock feeding her already buzzing migraine. She didn’t even notice she was crying again until she tasted salt. She hated this. She felt pathetic. She wanted a hug. She wanted to tell someone something. But Lily Evans was not the kind of person to ask for help, so she sucked it up, and continued crying on the floor.
“The next day, I woke up, went about my routine, went to work, and that was that.” She says. “Except that wasn’t that,”
Lily can feel her friends’ watchful eyes. They were giving her space. The chance to continue or not. She knows they’d accept whatever she chooses. She knows she could say nothing and they’ll continue to share a cigarette on the floor. Lily wants to tell them, though. She wants to tell someone when she’s not in a state of utter distress banging at their door at 3 in the morning.
She takes another drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out.
After work on Friday, Lily Evans could sense it. She knew, deep in her bones, in the very atoms making up her soul, that she was on the verge of teetering. She was on a cliff. She was running. The momentum would only get her to fall if she continues to run. Yet, she can’t stop.
Lily stayed holed up into her apartment the entire weekend. Going back to look at the picture of Mary. Thinking and rethinking every single thing in her life. Something clicked into place. She knew it the moment she left that pub. She might have known it for far longer than that. She might have kept it pent up in fear of ending up in yet another identity crisis in the span of 3 years.
That’s when she got up, got dressed, and went to James’s house. Didn’t care about the time, didn’t give a fuck that it was freezing cold, didn’t grab a jacket, didn’t call a taxi, she just ran to James’s house. While not far, it was still a 15-minute run. She didn’t care. She didn’t really register what was happening, wouldn’t register it until today, when she’s voicing it to her people.
“I banged on James’s door to apologize for not going out with him in high school. He was so fucking confused, it was almost funny. If I were more aware of my actions at the time, I would’ve laughed.” She pauses. “But I wasn’t and I didn’t. “
Lily stayed silent for another beat. Two beats. Three beats. She takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I told him it was not him, it was me. Which, now that I think about it, is as laughable as the whole situation. Because why was my first instinct after it has registered in my brain that I was a lesbian, why was it to apologize to James?”
They all went quiet for a while after that, Lily appreciated it. She took one breath at a time, and looked expectantly at her friends.
Remus lit another cigarette and spoke softly. “Because even when making discoveries about your own self, when coming to realizations about who you are. you still refuse to make it about yourself. So you pivot. And you think of how to fix things. Mind you, there is nothing to be fixed. But you try anyways. And somehow, your lovely, complicated, insane little brain comes up with something to fix regardless. So you convince yourself you need to apologize for who you are. Because that’s your first instinct. Always has been.”
“But what if I’m wrong?” She asks, voice incredibly small.
“Then you’re wrong,” Regulus answers. “Who gives a fuck?”
”I do,” She says. “I give a lot of fucks. I don’t want to be wrong. I can’t be wrong. I don’t, it’s not, it’s not me.”
The thing about this specific trio of people is that they were not physical touch people. It required a lot for them to be able to comfortably accept or give casual touches to others. Not with each other, though. They learned that one drunken night on this very same floor at Lily’s apartment. When they woke up tangled up, and none of them minded it. After that, it was small touches, casual hand squeezes, the occasional hand holding.
This is why, this entire scene, would look odd to anyone outside this room. Lily’s head in Regulus’s lap, legs in Remus’s. Regulus’s fingers in her hair. Her hand still in Remus’s, soothing circles on her palm. They stay like this. They don’t talk. They don’t really need to. They stay, they breathe, they hold each other, they wait. The thing about them is they’re so, annoyingly patient with one another. They know what to say and when to say it. But more importantly, they know what not to say and when to keep their mouths shut.
Lily doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. She’s scared and anxious and on the verge of yet another breakdown. She steadies herself and says the only thing that comes to mind at this very moment.
”Do you want to go to Scotland with me?”