Hits Different

James grips both sides of the sink, keeping his eyes on that dirty white porcelain, on the open rusted tap and the lukewarm water running in an unsteady gush. He pounds the soap with one first, the pink concoction splattering his palm like a sneeze, and then he washes. 

“You know, Jamie, your hands won't be clean unless you wash them for thirty seconds.”

James scrubs faster and faster, bubbles of soap finding every last crevice of his calloused hands. He’s not counting, but it only takes seventeen seconds. 

Seventeen—James’s favorite number. The minute he was born, the edge of Stevie Nicks, and the year he met the Black siblings. 

“Contrary to how Sirius appears, I promise we’re not psychotic, that honor goes to the rest of our family. We’ll be good neighbors.”

Dripping hands with nothing to dry them. The club’s paper towel dispenser has long since emptied. So James holds his hands in the air like a forgotten marble statue in the backroom of a museum, one leak above spoiling the ancient art with every drip.

“It’s called the Leaky Cauldron, Jamie. What did you expect? By the time I finish sucking you off, they’ll be dry.”

James hangs his head, or he means to, but his gaze is defiantly turning the other way, up, up to the cracked mirror inscribed with initials. R+J, an oath amidst a mural of lovers. 

“It has to be my name first. Why? Cause I just got on my knees for you.”

His fingers brush the R, the perils of broken glass over uncut skin meaningless, senseless, endless. James sighs and says to someone, no one, “You’ve made a mess of me.”

A rough knock sounds on the door. 

“One sec!” James calls out.

He scrubs his eyes, pats his cheeks, and like a horse slapped into a trot, his lips tug into an almost perfect smile. The bathroom line is long but James barely notices as he shoves past and reenters the crowd. A rumbling bass tickles his heels and ears, and James bobs along, letting himself be sucked into the warm bodies, a mob of thoughtless dancing. No feelings, just dance. Soon enough, Sirius finds him.

“Alright?” they shout over the music.

“Yeah!”

Remus stands behind Sirius, watching James with a look that says: no, no you aren’t alright. 

“Siriusly,” James says with a wink. “I feel great!”

“Atta boy.” Sirius slaps James in the chest then whirls to press against Remus.

“If Sirius is going to give Lupin a lap dance in public, then I at least get to kiss you—no I swear I won’t do anything else! Please, Jamie?”

James finds someone, no one to dance with, and his smile is so solid he can’t move his lips to speak, to breathe. 

“You think I don’t know what your real smile looks like?”

Sweat down his back and hands up his shirt, James would tell them to stop if his throat weren’t so hoarse, if his heart weren’t so broken. 

“Wanna get out of here?”

James repeats the stranger’s question in his mind, twice, and still fails to understand. But his smile seems to be assurance enough, cause he’s being tugged through the crowd, towards the club’s entrance.

Then the song begins.

Whoever held his hand, whichever floor grounded him, whatever molecules made him, all of it disappears; there’s only James in the back of the club, head tucked into his knees as he sobs to the chorus:

“Take me away (Take me away). 

A secret place (A secret place). 

A sweet escape (A sweet escape).”

“ God, you know I used to fucking hate this song and now—now I grin like a fool whenever I hear it. Makes me think of my idiot boyfriend who personifies the sun. My very own pocketful of sunshine.”

“Alright, James, I got you. Easy now, yep, one foot after the other.” 

“I’m not drunk,” James sniffles on Remus’s shirt.

“Yeah, but you aren’t standing right either.”

They make it outside the club and a red pickup truck, James’s red pickup truck waits on the curb, Sirius behind the wheel.

“Seems right that we christen this old truck, don’t you think? You love Ruby almost as much as you love me. Don’t look at me like that, just turn up the radio and try not to…ahem, move, and no one will know.”

“I’ll take the bus,” James says flatly, turning away from the car. 

Remus grabs his arm before James can make his escape. “The bus already stopped running, come on we’re your DDs tonight, let us drive you home.”

“I’m not drunk.”

Before Remus can respond, Sirius’s phone rings with the Addams Family theme song. All three of them freeze. Then Sirius fumbles to pick up and turns their head away.

“Hey, I can’t really talk right now—is everything okay?”

James wants to reach into the car and yank Sirius’s phone away and scream, fucking scream at her. Say all the words he’s been holding back, let out the foaming, frothing beast, and say—and say—and say—well, I love you, Ravyn Black. 

“Yeah, kay, love you.”

When Sirius hangs up, James feels dizzy with the lost opportunity.

“I’m sorry, she didn’t know I was with you,” Sirius says weakly.

“What’s—what’s she doing?”

It’s a Friday night and James can think of a million things Ravyn is up to an hour North in Stanford. A frat party? Fake IDs at a bar? Studying in that dark library? A date?

“She didn’t say,” Sirius says after sharing a look with Remus.

And that doesn’t mean anything but it could also mean something. James’s mind unspools, tugging on a loose thread of possibilities—Ravyn at a restaurant, blushing over spaghetti. Ravyn holding a man’s, another man’s hand, and kissing him goodbye. Ravyn sighing with a small smile when the door shuts and gushing to a friend about what a gentleman he is and how maybe, maybe he’s the one. 

And there it goes, all of James unravels with pictures of Ravyn’s new life, like a gallery wall—graduation, engagement, marriage, babies, death—Ravyn in love . 

But not with James.

It comes out of nowhere, though James really should have expected it—he throws up on the street, Remus holding his shoulders and Sirius scrambling out of the car. 

“I love her so much,” James chokes when he’s done.

Sirius helps James back up and grips his arms. 

“I love her so —” James begins again. 

“Pshtt, love is a lie,” Sirius scoffs. When they look back at Remus, they give their boyfriend an apologetic smile.

James sniffs. “You’re a liar.”

Remus and Sirius take James home, help him into his apartment, not their apartment, and Remus murmurs nice sentiments that James almost listens to. Almost. Because Remus has said things before, things that James had latched onto like a leech— when you know, you know .

Yeah, James fucking knows that Ravyn is the one.

And now she’s gone.

It’s a haunting fact, more bone-chilling than a ghost, or rather, just as, because it’s been a whole month and James can still feel Ravyn’s phantom touch in every corner of his apartment. Not their apartment. Not anymore. 

Sirius and Remus offer to stay and James says no with an almost perfect smile. They leave him in his best pajamas with a tub of ice cream. He eats the blue bubblegum from Marianne’s with slow spoonfuls.

“ This is not a respectable ice cream flavor, James, come on! It looks like a clown threw up in there.”

James cries into his ice cream, his feelings as catastrophically blue as the bright food dye she always scoffed at, but secretly loved.

It’s nearing three AM when a step scuffs and a lock click—James whirls to the door. But she’s not there.

Of course she’s not. 

******

When James graduated high school, his entire life changed. He expected it would, that’s kinda how turning eighteen and starting college goes, but he certainly didn’t anticipate the very cosmos of his existence shifting, the universe bending in a handstand, and spinning him around like a kid in a rolly chair. 

But that’s Sirius and Ravyn Black for you—cosmic and dizzy, destined to flip your world on its head. 

The beach house next to the Potters was always rented out in the summer, the owner a French recluse who enjoyed Santa Cruz only in the off-season. James and his parents made it a game of befriending whatever lucky family rented Alphard’s beach house—and after seven summers of success, their fridge was a proud museum of friends come and gone. There were the Martinezes, the Jacksons, the Wilsons, the Chopras, the Oborins, the Thompsons, and then the Garcias. All nice families with kids that James, for the most part, stays in touch with. 

Then, during James’s very last summer at his childhood home, the Blacks moved in. 

And James fell in love…

First, with Sirius Black. 

“PADFOOTTTT! Look at you, you’re standing!” James shouted over the waves. 

Sirius bent their knees and flapped their arms like a bird, the surfboard beneath them, for once,  not slipping away. James sat on his own surfboard and grinned at his best friend. 

Perhaps “best friend” was a little strong for someone he met only last week, but James had a good feeling about Sirius—the kind of gut kismet that his mom taught him to revere. After all, that feeling was what convinced Effie to follow a wild backpacker named Flea across the world to California, and it was what she felt on a random Halloween when she realized a baby was growing inside her. So James didn’t doubt his keen love for Sirius because he knew, he felt it when Sirius first burst out of their house and screamed “HELLO, GORGEOUS” at the beach, he felt it the first night they stayed up on James’s roof, debating the existence of magic, he felt it when Sirius hugged James like an abandoned Koala, and he felt it when they laughed so hard James got a bloody nose. 

They were meant to be. 

“That was fucking phenomenal!” Sirius’s eyes were shining, their limbs sprawled over the sand as they tried to catch their breath. 

James grinned and helped Sirius haul their surfboard to their things farther up the beach. While Sirius raved about the wonders of surfing, James unzipped his wetsuit and changed into something less heavy and wet. If his dad didn’t always bug him to wear one, he wouldn’t at all—in fact, he’d surf nude if he could. Seemed only right since all the fish were naked. 

“Ravyn!” Sirius yelled just as James was pulling up his swim trunks. “Did you see! Tell me you saw—I stood on the board for at least a minute, right, Prongs?”

James, admirably, didn’t spiral over the fact that Ravyn probably just saw his junk, and instead nodded to Sirius. “Hell yeah.”

Sirius turned back to their sister with a wide smile. 

Ravyn was much quieter and elusive than Sirius—James had barely seen her since the first barbecue his parents invited the siblings to. Apparently, Alphard gifted the beach house to Sirius for a graduation present seeing as they were going to attend UC Santa Cruz. Just like James. 

Though Ravyn had graduated too, a year early, in fact, she planned to take a gap year. When James had asked why, all she said was a simple, dismissive: “I have to read.” James knew when to push, when to pry, so he’d been biding his time, waiting for a chance to befriend Ravyn alone. 

Only it didn’t seem like Ravyn wanted James’s company. 

Every morning she took a walk on the beach at sunrise, and after James finished his jog, he’d invite her to get some coffee, and she always declined. Not in a rude way. Not in a polite way either. But as if she didn’t care one way or another about James. 

It was…a new experience for James, Ravyn’s rejection. One he had trouble dealing with. 

“Sooo?” Sirius prompted Ravyn. 

Ravyn looked to the ocean. “I didn’t see, guess you’ll have to do it again.” 

“Shit.” Sirius sighed. “Think that was a one-time win.”

“Don’t worry, Pads, it gets easier every time, I promise. By the end of the summer, you’ll be a natural.”

“You flirt.” Sirius flopped onto the sand with a smirk. 

“You know it, baby.” James returned his attention to Ravyn, whose feet were halfway in the sand, her arms hugging three different books. “Some light reading?”

Ravyn didn’t bother looking away from the ocean when she replied, “Yes.”

Sirius sighed. “Come on, Ray, sit down. Stop looming over me.”

“I’m not sitting with you, you’ll talk and distract me.” Then she was off, walking as far as James could throw a frisbee. She picked a flat spot and rolled out a towel, setting up a big umbrella to hide from the sun. 

“How do I make Ravyn like me?” James said after a moment. 

Sirius opened one eye and squinted. “Uhh, what?”

James watched Ravyn curl into a ball under her umbrella, reading with utter, unflinching focus. “It just seems like she doesn’t want to spend time with us and I’m guessing that’s my fault.”

“It’s not.” Sirius flung a hand over their eyes. “Ravyn’s anti-social.”

“Even with you?”

“Well, no.”

“And I saw her talking for like an hour on the phone yesterday so she definitely can be social.”

Sirius sat up on their elbows. “I meant anti-social more in the general sense of…well, Ravyn doesn’t like people besides her own.”

“Right. But I’m saying I want to be one of her people.”

There was a long pause. “Are you trying to fuck my sister, James?” 

“NO!” James’s voice cracked. 

Ravyn looked up from her book, unimpressed at the loud noise, then returned to the page. 

James hadn’t been thinking about Ravyn like that—his intentions were purely platonic, entirely innocent, utterly unsexual. Right? No, yeah, definitely. 

“I just want to be her friend, fuck, Sirius,” James groaned. “Now you’re making me feel all weird about it.”

Sirius shrugged. “I was only asking because it would have helped your case.”

“Wh—What?” 

“Ravyn’s a slut, she’ll pay attention to you for sex.”

James gawked at Sirius. “Did you really just say that about your sister?”

“I’m only repeating her words, Prongs. She’s slept with all of her closest friends.” Sirius smirked and tugged on a pair of sunglasses. “I’m going to go take a shower, why don’t you give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot?” James hissed as Sirius stood up. “You can’t seriously be telling me to go…you know what with Ravyn?!”

“I’m always Sirius.”

“Oh, I bet you use that joke all the time.”

Sirius patted James on the cheek twice. “Yeah, Prongs. I do. Now go get ‘em.”

Even after Sirius slid the glass door to Alphard’s beach house shut, James couldn’t bring himself to go over and disturb Ravyn’s peace. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about her besides the crumbs of information she gave at dinner and the obsessive stalking James did on the internet the following night. 

Ok, so maybe, he did know quite a bit about Ravyn. 

Like the fact that she read Russian literature and actually seemed to like it, if she wasn’t lying to James’s dad. Like the fact that she won poetry contests and posted photos of her perfect profile in darkly lit rooms. Like the fact that she worked for an organization that helped queer-incarcerated folk. Like the fact that she, according to Sirius, liked sex. 

James was none of those things. He was dyslexic and a shit writer, he never remembered to post anything mildly flattering on social media, and when he wasn’t in school he was surfing or yelling at tourists to leave the marine life alone. And above all, he was a virgin. 

But he had seven summers of friendships under his belt—he was not going to break his record now. Sirius was his best friend, and now Ravyn would be too. 

“Let’s do this,” James hyped himself up as he walked across the warm sand, and sat beside Ravyn. 

She was on her back, a book with the title “Gender Trouble” raised above her face, and sunglasses perched on the tip of her nose. Flipping a page, she said, “Finally worked up the nerve to come over here?”

James’s eyes bulged. “What?”

“I felt you staring for a while, figured you were nervous to talk to me,” Ravyn spoke with an even, uncaring voice. 

“I’m not nervous.” James was most definitely nervous. 

“No?” 

“Definitely not.” 

Ravyn closed the book and turned on her side, giving James her full attention. And James squeaked. He fucking squeaked . 

“Aw, that’s cute.” Ravyn pursed her lips. “So what do you want?” 

“To talk to you! That’s it!” James rushed out. 

“Well, you’re doing a stellar job so far, Potter.”

“No—no, don't call me that. You can call me James!” 

“I can call you whatever I want,” Ravyn said, turning on her back and holding the book up again. 

Though it wasn’t exactly possible, James was sure his brown cheeks were flushed red. “What—what—are you gonna call me then?”

“Nothing so ridiculous as Prongs, that’s for sure.”

James swallowed, his mouth unusually dry. “Okay…”

“How about—” Ravyn snapped the book shut again and James jerked.  She sat up and faced James, leaning forward as she whispered, “Jamie?” 

James nearly passed out. He wasn’t breathing, probably hadn’t bothered since he sat beside Ravyn, and now her hand was on his knee. Warm and squeezing and definitely moving higher. 

“What do you think, Jamie?” Ravyn smirked. “You like it?”

There wasn’t a word left in James’s mind—he’d forgotten an entire language, any form of communication, just a jumble of feelings, and wow, wow, wow her hand was still moving. 

Then Ravyn pulled away and laughed. “Next time, don’t listen to Sirius. They don’t know shit.”

James blinked, stunned and cold. How could Ravyn possibly know what Sirius had said to him? Was this all a joke? 

“You can go now,” Ravyn said when James didn’t move. 

But leaving would mean defeat. And Ravvyn hadn’t told James to leave, she had just suggested that he could. It wasn’t quite the rejection from all the mornings before, and James grasped at the small victory, his heartbeat racing. 

“I think I’ll stay. You up for a swim?” James asked.

“Not a swimmer.”

James steeled himself, trying not to show any nerves or hesitation. He could do this. He would charm Ravyn. He was a charming guy. 

So James gave Ravyn his best smile. “Come on, it’s a beautiful day, we would only be hurting the sea’s feelings if we didn’t say hello.”

“I’m reading.”

So much for charming. 

“How about this, I’ll leave you alone if you dip your toes in the water with me,” James tried to negotiate.

“Who’s to say I want you to leave me alone?”

James sucked in a breath, his face on fire.

“God, you’re easy.” Ravyn rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll stand in the wet sand and then you let me read in peace.”

James grinned. “Deal.”

It started like that—James a bumbling mess while Ravyn flirted, touched, and then pulled away like it never even happened. Slowly, James figured out that if he stuck by her side, she wouldn’t walk away. 

Ravyn was complicated, but in ways James could fathom; she wouldn’t invite James to spend time with her, and would always give him plenty of opportunities to escape, but she accepted his presence like one would rain. Impossible to stop, and sometimes, fun to be caught in. 

Soon enough all three of them began hanging out—beach picnics and beach sunsets, trips to the boardwalk, or walks downtown. The usual summer haze, when Santa Cruz looked her best, only this time James had Sirius and Ravyn. 

With them, everything was so much… more . 

James learned more and more of Ravyn’s secrets and quirks that summer, collecting them like he did funky rocks on the beach. Like the fact that she won’t listen to a song without first looking at the lyrics, to “prevent misunderstandings in her analysis”. Like the fact that she always has a book on hand for when she inevitably gets bored. Or the fact that she looks both ways twice before crossing the street because, despite the pedestrian rightaway, the law doesn’t account for idiotic drivers. And like the fact that she only gets drunk when Sirius is around because she gets embarrassingly sweet, and that’s a side of herself reserved for her sibling. 

Every detail felt like a victory because while James and Sirius are open books, Ravyn is private to the point of death threats. James only grinned whenever she threatened to dissect him like a frog if he ever told anyone about her love for One Direction. 

Seven summers and James had never had a best friend like Sirius. Seven summers and James had never had a crush like Ravyn. 

Said crush didn’t dawn on him until the middle of summer—summer solstice, in fact. As per tradition, the entire neighborhood celebrated on the beach at dusk, a bonfire of all generations, with a dress code of white. 

After James had spent much too long picking out a white linen button-up and shorts, he ran to the Blacks’ beach house to pregame with Ravyn and Sirius. 

It was there that James met Barty Crouch. 

“I come bearing tequila!” James sang as he pushed aside the sliding door. 

Sirius flung themself off the kitchen counter and ran into James’s arms. “Prongs, how I’ve missed you. These two won’t stop saying naughty things to each other, they’re ruining my virtue, tainting my purity, defiling my innocent sensibilities!” 

James could barely breathe under Sirius’s grip, and it took him a second to find the oxygen to understand what Sirius was saying. Slowly, he looked up and found Ravyn in the kitchen, blending something frozen and white, a dark-haired boy beside her. 

Within three seconds, James came to the conclusion that this boy was a total dickwad. His reasons were indisputable: 1) Dickwad’s hand was on Ravyn’s lower back, comfortable and confident. 2) He was taller than James, and his hair was less…quirky and more…groomed. 3) Ravyn was looking at him, at the dickwad, and not at James, who was her friend. Possibly best friend at this point. 

Only James couldn’t recall Ravyn ever calling him a friend now that he thought about it. Sirius shouted their love to the skies, quite literally, they ran up the cliffs and screamed “Prongs and Padfoot forever!” But Ravyn? 

Maybe Ravyn just tolerated James’s presence. Oh god, was it possible that Ravyn didn’t like James at all?

“Prongs, are you even listening to me?” Sirius pulled back and pouted. 

That got Ravyn’s attention and she finally turned from dickwad to meet James’s eye. “Hi, Jamie,” she said. 

James felt a flood of relief—surely if Ravyn was still using that nickname she had to harbor some sort of positive emotions toward him. She was not the kind of person to put up with people she didn’t like; in just a month, James had seen her dismiss all sorts of hopeful flirts on the beach and throughout town. Sirius and James had even made a game of rating how brutal Ravyn was when she stomped on their hearts and told them to fuck off. 

Assured that Ravyn found him at least a little more than tolerable, James returned his undivided attention back to Sirius. “Well, why don’t we make them feel your pain?” He cupped Sirius’s cheeks and leaned in with a dramatic pucker.

“Stop it you two,” Ravyn said without looking away from the blender. 

Sirius only winked. “Later,” they stage-whispered. 

James laughed. Though he and Sirius were compatible in a million ways—devastatingly good-looking, extroverted to a fault, greedy for touch and attention, and determined not to grow up entirely—they had decided after a round of fireball that they were the platonic sort of soul mates. As Sirius had put it, “I’d totally kiss you, Prongs. But I think if our tongues touched I’d gag a little.”

The dickwad, however, did not know this, so when he walked over to introduce himself he said, “So you’re Sirius’s boyfriend?”

James and Sirius both cackled, falling over each other. “He wishes,” Sirius snorted. 

“Nah, I’m just James. Boy next door.” James was kind and polite despite dickwad being a dickwad because his mom and dad had raised him right. “Nice to meet you…”

“Barty,” dickwad supplied. “Ravyn and I went to high school together. Though I’m still stuck in that prison, she got out earlier, the bitch.”

James clenched his fists but kept his tone bright. “Ravyn’s not a bitch.”

“I am, Jamie.” Ravyn came forward holding four frozen margaritas. “ Just accept it.”

Before James could launch into a speech of all the things Ravyn was besides a bitch—clever, beautiful, authentic, self-disciplined, prolific, and ethereal, to name a few—Sirius and dickwad started chugging their frozen margaritas, both of them struck with a nasty brain freeze. 

As they clutched each other and groaned, James and Ravyn clinked their glasses. “Happy summer solstice, Ravyn.”

“Yeah. You too, Jamie.”

Every single time Ravyn said the nickname James shivered. He was almost positive that was half the reason she said it, cause she knew what kind of reaction she’d elicit, she knew how she affected James and she enjoyed the power of making him feel…well, he couldn’t quite name what it was he felt for her.

Something big.

When the four of them finally made it onto the beach, all of them sufficiently tipsy, Fleamont and Effie gave James a knowing look and passed him a bottle of water. The party was a blur of talking to neighbors and running around with Sirius, sometimes to kick a soccer ball around, but most times to chase each other into the tide. This night was one of James’s favorite traditions—his whole life he’d lived in Santa Cruz, a beach baby from day one. Literally, Effie had taken him to meet the sea right when they came home from the hospital. James intended to grow old in this place, to never leave this family, this ocean’s shore. 

He said as much around drink four to Sirius, their knees kissing as they doodled in the wet sand. 

“I get it, Prongsie—” Sirius slurred. “I mean, I’m sooo happy we’re going to college here. I think I won’t leaf never either ever either!”

James frowned, trying to understand what Sirius was saying. 

Sirius swallowed, eyes drooping. “I mean, I love Santa Cruz! So much better than our last home.”

James only knew a few things about Sirius and Ravyn’s childhood, and most of it terribly sad. So sad that James placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m your family now, Padfoot. Me and my parents are yours.”

“No drunk crying,” Sirius protested, their own eyes welling with tears. 

James sniffed. “Yeah, yeah.”

Eventually, they collapsed into the sand, faces wet with mostly happy tears, and Sirius named the stars for James. When they got to Regulus, Sirius gave James a secret smile. “Regulus is a really good star, you know. Possibly the best. ”

“Yeah it’s really pretty,” James agreed, head spinning. 

“You’ve got to be really careful with that star, okay?”

“Uhm.” James squinted. “I will?”

“I know you will.” Sirius hummed and closed their eyes.

 James, ever the responsible drunk, helped Sirius to their feet and started the long trek back to the Blacks’ house. The bonfire and the moon were the only sources of light now that night had fallen, and most of the party-goers had left once the longest day of the year had ended. James, however, felt more awake than ever. 

He mumbled words of encouragement to a half-coherent, nauseous Sirius, and when they reached the thickest part of the sand, just a couple yards from home, James saw her. 

His first reaction to seeing Ravyn was the usual joy, a burst of serotonin that made him feel like he was glowing and burning up and possibly melting. Then he realized what exactly Ravyn was doing, and all that brightness dimmed, the ribs protecting his heart shattering, and his face falling all the way down. 

Dickwad and Ravyn were kissing. More than that, Ravyn was straddling dickwad on the sand and practically eating him alive. A feeling of utter devastation swam through James and he had to stop himself from running over there and throwing dickwad out of the way and—and—taking his place? 

James blinked, his own thoughts startling him even worse than Ravyn and dickwad. He wanted to kiss Ravyn. He actually wanted to hold and touch and love her like a real boyfriend.

He had never felt that before.

James tried to look away, tried to return to Sirius, but his blood stopped running, heart stopped beating when Ravyn began pulling off her shirt. Though the moonlight was sparse, though the bonfire was dim, he could see Ravyn’s chest with clarity. James could see that her body was different from some girls, that her body was something special and strange. 

And Ravyn hadn’t meant for James to see. She probably didn’t want James to know. 

So he hoisted Sirius over his shoulder and practically ran into their house, guilt blurring his vision. Only once Sirius was tucked safely in their bed, did James run into the bathroom and cry. 

Cry because this was his first crush, his first real crush. And he had already betrayed her.

The thought of that day still amazes James. He had dated quite a bit in high school, and he thought he liked all of his partners, maybe even loved . But he had never wanted to kiss them, touch them, not the way he does Ravyn.

Sirius helped him understand what that meant—the queer identity he might relate to. But demisexual or not, James had only ever been sure of one thing romantically. 

He is irrevocably in love with Ravyn Black. Has been since that summer solstice, when Ravyn found him on the bathroom floor. 

“Oh, Jamie. Shit, I didn’t know you were this drunk.” Ravyn crouched down and pushed James’s back against the bathroom wall. 

His lips parted in surprise, unsure why Ravyn was here. He had thought he locked the door and honestly, he had thought he made it back to his own house. But above all, he had been certain that Ravyn would be busy right now with dickwad. 

“Where’s di—Barty?” James mumbled. 

Ravyn, unsurprisingly, answered his question with a question. “Why have you been crying?”

“Feel bad,” James admitted. 

“Obviously,” Regulus said, settling onto the bathroom floor beside him. She passed James a glass of water and watched him take a long sip with unerring focus. “Now tell me why you’re upset.”

James couldn’t refuse Ravyn but he was sobered up enough to know that this wasn’t the moment to say that he wanted to punch dickwad’s face and kiss hers. So he offered another truth:

“I accidentally saw something I shouldn’t have, and now I’m worried I’ve betrayed a really good friend.”

Ravyn’s brows furrowed. “I’m going to need a tad more specificity.”

James inhaled. “I saw you and Barty…kissing and then I happened to see you take off your shirt.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Ravyn was laughing, throwing her head back, long black waves pressing into the wall. James didn’t find any of this funny but his heart squeezed at the sound of her laughter, at the sight of her smile. 

“You saw me naked? That’s why you’ve been crying? Fuck, how flattering.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” James crossed his arms, looking away from her teasing smile. It was too much for him to handle. 

“I don’t care if you see me naked, Jamie.” Ravyn nudged him. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m quite the exhibitionist.”

James frowned, trying to think that through. Sure, Ravyn had been the one to suggest skinny dipping the other night, and James had just avidly looked everywhere but below her chin. And yes, Ravyn was kissing Barty in a very public place without caring who saw them. And then there was all the sexual innuendos and flirting and, well, Sirius did call Ravyn a slut. Lovingly, teasingly, but nonetheless, “an especially committed whore,” a title that Ravyn accepted with a smirk. 

It sucked, really sucked, how bad James’s cheeks burned. 

“Okay. That’s—cool. I guess I was more worried that you would be upset about…” James trailed off. 

“Come on, I can’t finish your sentences, although I’m sure I’d be more eloquent about it.”

James didn’t laugh. He lowered his voice, “I didn’t know you were trans, Ravyn.”

She stopped smiling.“You didn’t?” 

“No and of course, I don’t care—I mean I do care, I care about everything that concerns you, but I wasn’t sure if you were waiting to tell me or if you even wanted me to know at all, and it’s just, I hate that I found out that way, while you were off kissing—” James broke off. This wasn’t about his jealousy, this was about Ravyn and whatever she wanted, whatever made her most comfortable. 

“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, Jamie. I honestly thought you knew. Sirius and I reference it all the time.”

“I mean, sure, but you never said—I didn’t realize—” James dragged his hands over his face, Ravyn had a trans pin on her jacket for fucks sake. “I guess I’m just oblivious and dumb, I’m sorry.”

Ravyn pulled his hands from his face. “Jamie, you thought I was cis, now you know I’m trans. And proud. I thought I told you stop apologizing so much?”

“You’re not upset?”

“I think we’ve established that you’re the one upset tonight.”

James laughed weakly. He was relieved, terribly relieved, that he hadn’t messed this up. That Ravyn would tolerate, a little more than tolerate, his company some more, at least until the summer ended. 

Ravyn’s hands were still around James’s wrists, her touch steady. She was so goddamn calm and collected, forever poised and intellectual and the portrait of royalty and everything James wasn’t. But he knew that. He had known that for a while. 

Ravyn was everything, and James wasn’t. 

He wasn’t enough.

“You can go back to Barty, I’m sure he’s waiting.”

“We had our fun.” Ravyn shrugged. “Besides, he’s passed out in my bed.”

“Right.” James tried to laugh. He couldn’t manage it, so he looked at Ravyn’s long, perfect fingers, still clasped around his wrists. 

“Jamie?” Ravyn prompted, and James, always listening, always waiting, looked up. “What else is wrong?”

He opened his mouth and almost told her everything, the confession chaotic but sincere: I’ve never felt like this for someone before and I thought I knew what crushes and romance was, but now that I know you, I think all of those loves were lies. You’re the one that I want. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” James smiled at her. “I’m just drunk.”

It was one of the only times James successfully lied to Ravyn. He managed it once more, the day they broke up. 

Lies, and love, and pain—it’s all James can think of sitting on the beach. Their beach. 

An entire school year he’s managed without her, and honestly, James has been getting better. He’s had a whole host of distractions, Sirius and Remus haven’t let him sit and rot in his apartment, or cry at the club. Well, not since the last time. 

But now that it’s summer, now that the beach is full of tourists and a bright, blazing sun, he can’t avoid her. The memory of her. This place always represented freedom to James—a coast full of friends and love and Ravyn . 

Now the sun burns his heart, and the sand hurts his feelings. 

He turns to look at his parents’ house, seated next to the Blacks’ like a postcard picture. Since Sirius got that place with Remus closer to school, they’re renting out the house for the summer. 

Cause Ravyn, obviously, isn’t planning on using it. 

Maybe James will sell his apartment, not their apartment, and move back in with his parents. He can befriend whatever family rents the Blacks’ house and maybe he’ll pretend to fall in love with someone new, and then when school starts again, he’ll ditch them, ghost them, and repeat the cycle. 

His phone buzzes, the usual group chat spam, but he takes the opportunity to get out of his head, away from his vindictive thoughts of avenging an ex who has entirely forgotten about him. 

Marlz: We have to celebrate the end of sophomore year!!! That means Karaoke!!!!!!

Dork: No.

Padfoot: YESSSSSSS. 

Moony: I’m with Marlene: No.

Dork: How about the Leaky Cauldron?

There’s a beat where no one’s texted, and James almost fills in the text silence to relieve the tension, then Dorcas writes:

Dork: Nevermind. Let’s do that cocktail bar Gringotts?

James almost rolls his eyes. Obviously, Sirius privately messaged Dorcas and told her the Leaky Cauldron was a firm no because of James and Ravyn’s history there. And obviously, James is grateful that Sirius did it. But obviously, he feels like shit nonetheless. 

Marlz: What do y'all have against Karaoke????

Padfoot: YOU’RE A COWARD, DORCAS MEADOWES.

Moony: And I am too?

Padfoot: No, Moons, you’re the moonlight of my life, the moon of my waves, the moonbeat of my heart. Now pls, if you love me, VOTE KARAOKE

Moony: Fine.

Dork: Traitor!

James smiles at this phone and summons the energy to write something believably positive. 

Prongs: Karaoke sounds fun!!

Marlz: HAHAH, outvoted, Dorkie.

Dork: Fuck off.

Marlz: Never <3

Padfoot: Soooooo who wants to be my DUET PARTNER!?

******

James goes into the Karaoke Bar with one goal. No drinking. For over seven months he has convinced all his closest friends that he is fine, in fact, he’s fantastic , he is actively dating, engaging with his classes and trying to figure out his major, with glee, and he’s happy. 

It’s a facade he’s only able to keep up when sober. 

Anytime he’s entered a bar and had a drink or two, he breaks down into tears. Remus and Sirius seem to think that it’s the Leaky Cauldron that summons the memories—because, well, yes it was Ravyn’s favorite club. She loved to dance, not to mention make James wildly blush with PDA. But the truth is that any bar, any drink, makes James think of all the things he’s not supposed to think about. 

Like Ravyn’s smile. Her mouth more generally. The things her mouth would do to him. And, of course, the things those lips used to say, used to mean: I love you, Jamie. 

Not anymore. 

So when James walks into the dimly lit bar, a half stage in the corner and a disco light bouncing above them, he refuses Sirius’s rounds of shots. “I’ll be DD tonight,” he says. 

“I’m DD, I’ve got an early shift.” Remus moves next to James. “Go wild, Prongs.”

There goes his excuse, but James holds out, claiming a sore stomach and a minor headache. The others seem to accept this easily, but Remus has that look in his eyes like he knows. Remus can’t know, he won’t know, but James is careful not to meet his gaze again. 

He settles in between Marlene and Dorcas, amused as they bicker for a half an hour over what songs they’re going to sing first. Every now and then he pitches in a suggestion, but they both scoff and call James’s taste too mainstream. 

Sirius sings about five songs, during all of which Remus watches in silence, practically drooling . At one point, one of Marlene’s new friends from photography comes in, and James distracts himself by getting to know Peter. 

It’s good, it’s easy, it’s what James does best—socializing with a smile, cheering on his friends. 

Then Sirius demands that James sing something and things fall apart. 

Dorcas shoves a shot into his hands, for liquid luck, she claims, and James is too overwhelmed to think things through. He’s slamming it back before he remembers that he can’t be drinking, not with others there to witness his drunken crisis. But there’s no time to lament because Sirius is pushing James onto the stage, and with the heady buzz of Vodka, James leans over and flips through the screen full of instrumental tracks. 

He doesn’t mean to pick that one. 

It’s just right there. 

And it’s instinct, really. James has always operated on instinct when it comes to her; tracking her movements, listening to her voice, following her steps. So he taps the song and stands tall on the stage. 

He doesn’t even make it past the first verse before he’s sobbing.

“ I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine. I got a love, and I know that it's all mine. Oh, oh whoa Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me. Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me. No, oh whoa. ”

Sirius helps him off the stage, but James keeps singing. “I thought you had moved on, Prongs. Oh, I’m so sorry, love.”

His friends hover around him in a sticky booth, cooing and squeezing his hand and saying everything right. James can barely see, his vision is full of tears, but he can spot Marlene’s deep frown, Dorcas’s furrowed brows, and Sirius and Remus’s shared looks. 

Fuck, his sadness is contagious. 

They call him an uber, and Remus is the one to help him home, patting his back as he slurs Ravyn’s name. 

“I knew you weren’t over her,” Remus says, mostly to himself but James hears it. 

“I don’t think I ever will be.” James sniffles, tugging at his seatbelt. “I’ve dated so many people but, fuck , Remus, this one. It hits different. Of course it does, it’s Ravyn .”

Remus doesn’t say anything. For once, he doesn’t know the right thing to say. 

James can’t blame him. 

The uber driver is silent, but he meets James’s eye in the mirror. He must look quite terrible, cause the driver is nice enough to turn up the radio, some Taylor Swift song with a melody deceivingly happy, but the lyrics a poem of pain. 

James squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to listen to every word.