Chapter 8 : Dates are for Chumps
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 22|
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Dates are for chumps.
Chumps, I tell you.
“What the bloody hell am I supposed to wear?”
Al glanced at me from behind his textbook. “You could start with boxers.”
I pulled on a pair of boxers, then turned back to my opened wardrobe. “I’m serious, Al. I don’t bloody know what to wear.”
“You’re such a girl,” Al sighed, throwing his book aside and sidling up next to me. We stared at my closet some more. Unfortunately, nothing popped out with the sign ‘wear me to your date, Louis!’
I need to tell Uncle George to start working on something like that.
It’d be dead useful.
“Here,” Al said finally, pulling out a blue shirt from the depths of the wardrobe. I ironed it with my wand and buttoned it up. Then I wore a pair of jeans that Dom bought for me. Apparently, they’re expensive and designer.
As long as they cover my lower half, I’m cool.
We looked at me in the mirror for a couple of seconds.
“You look sexy,” Al decided, ruffling my hair and going back to his book.
I sighed and checked my watch. “Guess I better go.”
“Have fun! Use protection! Don’t fall in love!” Al called after me as I exited the room. Al’s such a goof. Pfft. As if.
I sulked around in the common room for a good ten minutes (this is why I’m never early to anything. I look like a prat waiting for something to happen) and generally ignored my dorm-mates as they took the mickey out of me for taking someone out on a date.
Whatever, dudes. You’re not getting 100 galleons out of this. We’ll see who’s laughing when I’m rich and you’re still stupid!
“Hey,” Aisha said, coming up next to me, smiling like she had the whole world laid out in front of her.
I looked her over. Light blue dress, hair as wild as ever, eyes looking even bluer…she looked a little nicer than normal, I suppose.
“You look pretty,” I said, just because that’s what she probably wanted to hear.
She grinned. Score one for Louis and his awesome woman-smarts. “You look alright too, I suppose.”
I didn’t know what else to say after that (I feel like a shithead. A REALLY MEAN SHITHEAD WHO’S GOING TO CRUSH SOMEONE FOR MONEY WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME – but I kind of want to win, so let’s swallow all that guilt, grow a pair and get your arse to Hogsmeade), so I just nodded towards the door.
“Wanna head out?”
She slipped her hand into mine as we stepped out of the door.
I didn’t have the heart to pull it away.
“– and then he turns to me and he goes ‘I pissed in that’,” I finished between chortles, and Aisha collapsed into another fit of hysteria.
Note to self: when on date with girl, mention family members’ stupidity as entertainment.
“And no one said anything to her?” she asked incredulously.
I looked at her as though she was insane. “Come on, have you met Molly?”
She pulled a face. “Once. I guess I understand what you’re talking about.”
“I can’t wait for the day someone comes around and finally dislodges the stick shoved up her arse,” I said wistfully, taking another sip of butterbeer as I reminisced about good ol’ Molster and all the wonderful pranks we played on her unsuspecting self.
“Doubt it’ll happen,” Aisha muttered, “she told me off for laughing too loudly in the hallways.”
“She tends to do that,” I said seriously, “once I got a lecture on the merits of quiet breathing.”
Aisha giggled – she never used to do this before and it’s starting to become painful – and took another sip of her drink.
“You already know all about my family, though,” I said, looking at her, “what about you?”
Aisha shrugged and smiled fondly. “I’m a muggleborn. My dad’s an engineer and my mom’s the CEO of… well, you probably wouldn’t know anyway,” she laughed, seeing my confused expression.
“Basically, they’ve both done pretty well in life,” she summed up, tracing the rim of her bottle with a finger. “My older brother’s going to be a doctor – that’s like a Healer, except in the muggle world, being a doctor is considered to be a top profession – and then there’s me, the witch of the family.” She shrugged, but she looked too goddamn happy to actually be so nonchalant.
Well, that sounds boring.
“Cool,” I offered lamely.
“My family’s really normal compared to yours,” she said, “but they’re family, and I love them.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of obligated to love family. Even if they have people like Dom in them,” I said morosely.
“Speaking of Dom, I’m pretty sure Cameron has a crush on her,” Aisha announced.
I was so unsurprised at this information that I just shrugged. “Every single bloke who’s not related to her has a crush on Dom. Except Ted. He has a crush on Victoire.”
Aisha shook her hear irritably, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think you’ve ever really met Cameron, but he’s not the kind of bloke to just decide he’s got a crush on someone. You know, for a while I thought he was gay or asexual because he never admitted to having any interest in girls. Turns out he’s actually spent all his life pining after your sister.”
Okay, a) I find that creepy. b) you never fall in love with Dom, she’s a horrible person. And c) dude, this Cameron bloke is screwed.
“Look, let me give you some good advice to give to your friend, okay?” I said as caringly as I could, leaning forward. “Tell him Dom’s not worth it. She’s seriously not girlfriend material. She’ll snog anything male and I’m pretty sure her brain is a giant pile of marshmallow fluff because she’s spent so much time around noxious fumes.”
Aisha wrinkled her nose. “Trust me, I’ve tried. I told him all of this, and he still just can’t help himself.”
I sighed. “Well in that case, I pity this guy. He could probably get a snog out of Dom if he smiled at her and asked. You know, if he just wants to get her out of his system or something.”
Aisha stared at me. “Are you this nonchalant about handing out all your female family members?”
“Nope,” I said cheerfully, “just Dom. She’s a whore even without my help, so I just accept it. If anyone else even looks at Victoire, Rosie, Lil, Roxy, or Luce the wrong way, I tend to get a little protective. It’s completely normal.”
But if you ask any of them, they’ll deny that it is.
Whatever. Deep down, they love me for my overprotectiveness. Besides, none of them should really be dating until they’re old. Well, except Tori. But she’s twenty three, so old enough.
Only because it’s Teddy, though.
Let that be known.
“So, where are we going next?” Aisha asked, setting her empty butterbeer bottle down and looking at me with a brightly expectant face.
Note to self deux: when on date, girl expects you to have planned out said date.
“I was thinking Honeydukes and Wheezes, and then we’d head back,” I invented off the top of my head.
She beamed. “That sounds wonderful.”
Good. It took three seconds to decide.
After that mind-numbing experience which I hope to never go through again in my entire life, we finally made it to the little intersection between the boy and girl dorms in Gryffindor Tower without any sort of lasting damage done to my brain.
All in all, it could have been a lot worse.
“I had a lot of fun, Louis,” Aisha said happily, smiling at me and refusing to let go of my hand.
I grinned back at her because it seemed right. “Me too. Come with me next time.”
Gag me first.
Her smile widened, if possible. “I’d love that.”
I leaned closer. I should get snogged for this ordeal.
“As my girlfriend?” I asked.
As a response to that, she leaned forward and kissed me.
She pulled back before I could get properly snogged (but no matter, I’ll try again later), and bit her lip. “Yeah,” she breathed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams.” I kissed her again. You know, kissing her isn’t so bad. She’s got soft lips. I think I can live with this.
“Night,” she whispered, detangling herself. She gave me an awkward little wave and then sprinted up the girl dorms.
A huge grin spread over my face.
One step closer to victory.
I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I’ve had in my entire life (apparently, girls don’t like dating guys who are prettier than they are. Just another wonderful aspect of being a male Veela).
In fourth year, there was Rachel. She was my first girlfriend and I thought she was the absolute shit. I remember some incident about a frog, Rachel’s hair, and my refusal to remove said frog from said hair because it was really damn funny.
Apparently, that makes me a bad boyfriend. Go figure.
To this day, I can’t look at Rachel without remembering the frog jumping all over her head while she screamed hysterically. As a result, I can’t look at her without laughing. She hates my guts. I think she needs to get a sense of humor.
Then in fifth year, I went through three girls.
I was like a mini pimp with mad biddies, but that got old kind of fast, especially considering Dom took it upon herself to actually converse with me and Victoire threatened to curse my arse every two weeks.
I like my life with minimal Dom and happy Victoire, with no hexing of butts involved.
There was Sienna (she was hot), then Michelle (she did all my homework for me), and Heather (I had to dump her clingy arse eight times before she finally caught on. In hindsight, I don’t know why I dated her, she was really stupid).
And after all of those girls, I have to point out that Aisha is the most normal, the most intelligent, the best snog, and the easiest to have a conversation with.
I’m not pleased about any of this.
Really, I’m not.
It’ll just be harder to crush her heart because I think I actually enjoy her company.
“You might have to kill me.”
“Al, get your nerdy face out of the damn textbook and listen to me!”
Al’s face emerged from behind the enormous tome, and he blinked reproachfully at me. “You’re the reason I don’t want to have a girlfriend. I’m afraid all girls are like you.”
I threw a potions book at him. He batted it out of the way.
You’d better be careful tonight, Al. I sleep in the same room as you do.
FEAR MY WRATH.
“Al, you don’t have a girlfriend because every girl in this school is either creepily in love with you or hates your guts for brutally beating their Quidditch Team,” Rose said lazily.
Al puffed up his chest. “I caught the snitch before Alison Turner fair and square.”
“You knocked her out of the way.”
“Details,” he scoffed, “who cares about those?”
“Pretty sure Alison Turner did,” I muttered.
Al rolled his eyes. “Why do I have to kill you again, Louis?”
I glanced at Rose. She was looking at me with an interested expression tinged with light concern.
Okay, I’m getting paranoid. Maybe this bet is against Rose, but she’d never sabotage me. She’s brilliant and cleverly manipulative, but she’s never been a cheater.
“I might be getting a little attached to Target,” I admitted.
Al’s eyes widened. Rose’s face turned white.
Well, this can’t be good.
“ANYWAY – how’s your snogging with Malfoy going, Rosie? His snogging up to par? That’s good, maybe your non-gitty-ness will rub off on him, you know? He sure could use a good dose of reality, something to get that huge rod shoved up his –”
Rose strode up to me and mashed my lips between her fingers, abruptly cutting off my awkwardly desperate tirade. I let out a pathetic squeaking noise.
It was very manly.
Kind of like a buff, manly mouse who scares off all the little pathetic mice. Or something.
OKAY, SHUT UP.
“You’re fucking with me right now,” Al said in a low voice, stepping up next to Rose. I felt like one of those criminals who got interrogated and then beat up by the Aurors.
I am not okay with this situation.
“Mm –” I shot Rose and irritated look and pushed her hand off of my face, “Look, I’m trying my best. She’s kind of the coolest girl I know who I’m not related to.”
Rose’s mouth was literally hanging open.
“You need to get out more, mate,” Al told me seriously.
“So you mean that Rachel, Sienna, Michelle and Heather just don’t count as females?” I asked flatly.
“They count as stupid fucks that you dated because you’re also a stupid fuck and birds of a feather tend to flock together,” Rose said snidely.
“I’m sorry, all I heard was ‘I’m hooking up with Malfoy-the-douche because I’m a slag’.”
Al sniggered. Rose gave me the finger.
“I think he’s actually starting to like me,” Rose said, her face lightly blushing pink.
“Of course he likes you. You’re bloody awesome,” I said casually. “Plus you’d be hot if you weren’t my cousin.”
“I think you’re hot, Rosie,” Al piped in earnestly. Rose’s face turned tomato-red.
See, this is why Rose is so adorable. She blushes at compliments from her own cousins and acts like she’s all tough and badass. Well, she is really tough and badass, but we sometimes tend to forget that through it all, she’s still a girl.
We take Rose Weasley for granted.
…and will probably continue to do so because we’re too lazy to do anything else.
Good job, Al and Louis. You get the award for most sensitive blokes in this world.
“Oh no,” Al said suddenly. He turned to me, “you don’t have a crush on her, do you?”
“Wha – no!” I spluttered indignantly. “Who do you think I am? I’m not about to go around suddenly developing crushes on the Target! You idiot. I just like her company. I think she’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, well, you’re in the middle of using this good friend for a bet. You might want to get over that fast,” Rose advised.
I groaned. “Why does she have to be so freaking chill? I feel bad.”
Rose grinned. “And that, my boys, is why I chose Aisha DiMarco as Louis’ Target.”
“You were playing on my humanity?” I asked morosely.
“I was playing on the fact that you’re more sentimental than a girl,” Rose corrected. “And having to use someone as genuinely good as Aisha just breaks your widdle heart.”
“You’re my hero,” Al breathed, staring at Rose like she was a God. I stuffed my face into my pillow and yelled out all of the obscenities that I’d ever learned in my entire life. This list spans across two languages and is pretty substantial.
Stupid brilliant Rose. Stupid awesome Aisha. Stupid bet.
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