He was going to do it. This time he was going to stop being a complete pussy and ask the girl to the bloody dance. They were friends, sort of. She probably wouldn’t even think anything of it. At worst she’d say no and he’d have to play it off like it didn’t matter. He could do that. He’d been doing it for two years.

Except that wasn’t really the worst that could happen, was it? No. Not the worst thing. The real worst thing would be her finally seeing the truth and looking at him like he was a complete and total idiot. Which he was, he had to be, since only a complete fool would spend two years trying to find the words to tell a girl that he liked her. Or loved her. Love was closer to the truth than like was, obsession was probably even more accurate but it held implications and insinuations that he didn’t like.

William wasn’t a stalker. He wasn’t. He just liked watching her. She was beautiful and interesting. Her eyes were green and big and reminded him of the princesses in animated movies and her hair was the color of the champagne he’d drank at his cousin’s wedding and seemed to be moving all the time. He hadn’t realized a real girl could look like that before he met her. He wanted to worship her or at least make her smile. And he wanted to touch her. God, he wanted to touch her. Of course he took pictures sometimes. He also took pictures of clouds and the marks that autumn leaves left on the sidewalk after a rainstorm. The pictures weren’t creepy. She even knew about most of them.

He walked over to her locker and stood quietly behind her while she chatted with a couple of girlfriends. No one acknowledged him.

When they finished talking and the other girls had flitted off, Buffy turned and gave him a quick smile. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Are you going home right away?”

William nodded. As always, he gave a quick and silent thank you to the powers that be for letting him live next door to Buffy Summers. It was his in. He was the boy next door, always around when she needed a hand with something or wanted a ride to school. “Yeah, did you want a ride? I mean, I could hang for a little while if you need to do something first.” He groaned inwardly. He was supposed to play it cool, make her ask for the ride and then say yes, like he was the one doing the favor. He was not supposed to fall at her feet and beg for the privilege of driving her home. Some days he really couldn’t stand himself.

Buffy was staring down the hallway at a group of students fooling around with a football. William followed her gaze and frowned. Why didn’t anyone stop them? They could easily break the glass of the trophy display case. But he knew the answer. Jock kids always got away with stuff normal people couldn’t do. If he started throwing things in the hallway he’d be pulled into the office in a second and lectured about the importance of a clean record and how everyone knew he was going to attend a good college and shouldn’t do anything that might put his scholarships at risk. It was totally unfair. He looked back down at Buffy. She was smiling like she thought it was great that the buffoons were rough-housing near the trophy case. He wondered if she even knew that the chess team had a trophy in that case.

He sighed. “Look, are you going home?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’d be great.” She smiled at him again.

William felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly looked away. If she ever stopped smiling at him, he might stand a chance of moving on.

He waited until they were nearly at his car before bringing it up. “So, I guess there’s a dance this Friday.”

She smiled broadly. “Yeah. Are you going to go?”

“Umm…” He froze for a second. He’d imagined a dozen scenarios, but not this one. “I don’t know. I mean maybe. Are you…has someone asked you?” His heart was beating too fast. Once before a big test he’d had a panic attack and the guidance counselor made him breath into a paper bag to calm down. This felt worse. It occurred to him that he might die. Asking Buffy Summers to a bloody high school dance might actually kill him. He wondered how anyone could be so dysfunctional.

Buffy laughed. “No. Of course not.”

His brow furrowed and he frowned. “What?”

“William, it’s a Sadie Hawkins dance.”

“Right. So?” He unlocked and opened the passenger side door.

She ducked under his arm to get in. “Girls have to do the asking.”

He scowled as he closed the door and walked around the car. “Why?” He sat down and turned to frown at her.

“It’s a thing.”

“A dumb thing.”

She frowned. “No, it’s not. It’s kind of…it’s supposed to be like empowering, you know, for girls. I guess it is a little old fashioned now. Girls ask guys out all the time now, right?”

“They do?” He looked skeptical.

“Sure.”

He started the car. “Do you?” He chewed on his lip and forced his eyes on the parking lot.

“I haven’t, but I could. I’m going to, actually.”

“Oh.” He focused on her words. She was going to. As in she would in the future, so she hadn’t yet. He still couldn’t catch his breath. He pulled out of the parking space and carefully maneuvered through the lot and on to the road.

“Look, you’re a guy, right?”

“Had all the right parts in the shower this morning.”

“Eww…William!” She swatted at his shoulder. “Way too much information.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say I did anything. I just—you asked a stupid question.”

She sighed. “Never mind. I forgot that you could be such a jerk.” She turned to look out the window.

After a few moments he groaned. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’m just tired or something.”

Buffy didn’t say anything for a few minutes. She sighed. “I’m going to ask Liam O’Brian, you know, Angel. Do you think he’ll go with me?”

William suddenly realized why Buffy had been watching the ruckus in the hallway earlier. Liam O’Brian, nicknamed “Angel” for being the saving grace of Sunnydale High’s notoriously bad football team had been the one showing off with the ball. His grasp on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles were white. “You…like him?” He tried to sound casual but ended up sounding sort of surprised and confused. He hoped that was better than the actual mixture of repulsion and horror he actually felt.

“Well, yeah. That’s why I want to ask him.” She laughed softly.

“Why?”

Buffy turned and gave him a strange look. “You know. He’s cool and handsome and nice and stuff.”

“Right. So, you’ve talked to him?”

“Yeah.”

“Like actual conversations?”

She frowned. “Why are you being like this?”

“I’m just asking. What do you even know about him?”

She blushed. “I know plenty. He plays football and he’s really good. And he umm…he’s…sometimes when he talks he’s got an accent-‘cause his parents are from Ireland- which is really cool and—”

“He was born in California!” Since when did Buffy think having an accent was cool? When he’d first moved from London two years ago, she’d said he talked funny and that he should learn to speak English.

“I know that.”

“So you know that it isn’t even a real accent?”

“Yes it is.”

“Bollocks! He’s only doing it to impress stupid girls.”

“How would you know anything? You’ve probably never even talked to him.” She glared at him briefly before turning to look out the window. “I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yeah…you did.”

“I didn’t mean…I just meant that was the type of girl who…not you.” He was pretty sure that his life was going to start flashing before his eyes at any moment.

“Whatever. If you don’t think he’ll go with me just say that.”

“That’s not what I said. I…I just don’t know why you’d want to go with him anyway.”

Buffy looked at him like he was crazy. “He was Homecoming King last year when he was only a junior. That’s like…unheard of.”

“Fine.” He’d never been so happy to pull on to their street. Usually he wanted to drag out the trip home as long as possible, today it was torture.

“Did he like tease you or something? I’m sure he was just kidding.”

“No. Why would you even say that?” He had. But that wasn’t the point at all.

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t understand why you’re getting all upset.”

“I’m not.”

She sighed and unbuckled her seat belt before he even reached her house. “Fine.”

He stopped the car and watched sullenly as she quickly jumped out and mumbled her thanks for the ride. He didn’t say good-bye.

William didn’t bother to tape his hands up the way he’d been taught before he started pummeling the punching bag his father had hung in the basement. Knowing that he was home alone, he ranted freely.

“Such a bloody idiot. Couldn’t just ask the stupid girl to the stupid dance. No. No. ‘Course not. Arghh. Accents are cool now? Since bloody when? That’s what I want to know. Just go over and knock on the door and say go to the fucking dance with me. Girls are supposed to like that confident shit. They don’t like pussy boys that can’t even ask a girl to a dance. It’s not even like I want to go to the dance. Everybody knows that school dances are lame. I don’t even like dancing. Just wanted to…fuck! Why Angel? What does she even see in him? He’s a bloody simpleton…is what he is. He’s a senior and he’s still taking Algebra.” He screamed. Sweat dripped from his hair and down his back. His breath came in shallow pants. Two of his knuckles were bleeding.

He still felt like punching Liam O’Brian’s smug face. He imagined Buffy smiling at the taller boy and blushing while she asked him to go to the dance. He’d say yes, William had no illusions about that, Liam may be an idiot but he’d know what a good thing Buffy was when she fell into his lap. The thought of Buffy on the other boy’s lap led to another twenty minutes of solid strikes. Typing his paper for American History with two bloodied hands was going to suck, but he didn’t care. Sometimes he was just angry.

He looked up at the mirror in the bathroom after washing his hands and scowled. He wondered if a guy could look less like him than Liam did. Liam was exactly the type of guy that girls liked. Liam was tall, dark and handsome. William wasn’t. The tag on William’s t-shirt said small. He’d tried working out but he just didn’t bulk up…at all. Still, there were a lot of guys at school who weren’t very big and still had girlfriends and the only girl William was interested in was tiny. He was plenty taller than her, wasn’t he? The longer he looked at his face the more problems he saw: his eyelashes were too girly, his chin wasn’t big enough, his cheeks were almost concave and his dark blond hair was curly. Cool guys never had curly hair.

He’d showered and iced his hands before his parents came home from work. At dinner he answered their questions about school and reported that he had received the expected A on his last Physics exam. He was tempted to lie and say that he’d only gotten a B just to see what would happen. It wasn’t that he thought they’d punish him; his parents had never hit him or sent him to bed without dinner or any other dramatic and traumatic thing that he knew a million other kids had to deal with. In September he’d gotten an A- on a Latin paper and his mother had just looked confused and asked him what happened. He wanted to tell her that there were hundreds of parents in the world who would be totally happy to have a son that got an A- in Latin, that it would make their day, to see an A- on their son’s Latin paper. He wanted to tell her that an A- was the highest grade anyone had gotten from Mr. Lampksy in two years. He wanted to tear up the paper and yell, just to hear the sound. Instead, he told her that he thought he might be coming down with a cold and that he’d make up for it on his next test.

After dinner, he worked on schoolwork for three hours before he stalked over to his window and stared at Buffy’s bedroom. Her curtains were closed, as usual. He wasn’t spying on her. He just liked to see if her light was on. He just liked to know that she was in her room too, that they had that in common. He stared at the yellow glow of her window for several minutes before groaning.

It was a lame excuse. It was the only one he had. He snatched a book from his bookshelf and walked determinedly downstairs and towards the front door.

His mother’s eyes widened as he started to open the door. “William, where are you going?”

“I forgot to give Buffy this book. She needs it for her history paper.”

Anne Pratt frowned. “It’s after nine o’clock. Don’t you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “She told me that she really needs to work on it tonight and I should have brought it over before. It won’t take long.”

She shrugged. “I guess there’s no harm if…William, you’re not even wearing a jacket.”

He was already halfway across the street.

She shook her head and went back to reading.

William stood on the Summers’ front porch shivering in his white t-shirt for five minutes before knocking. When he did, Buffy’s mother answered. He’d liked Joyce when he’d first met her. She smiled a lot and always offered him a snack. It had gotten a lot more difficult to talk to her lately though. Every time he saw her, he had to fight off the urge to apologize for having wet dreams about her daughter.

“William! What are you doing out without a jacket?” She stepped back. “Quick. Come in.”

Mothers. He rubbed his free hand up and down his bare arm to warm up. “Hi, Joyce. I just…umm…I have a book for Buffy...for her history paper. She really needs it.”

Joyce nodded. “Okay. She’s in her room. You can take it up.”

Result! A choir of Angels sang in his head. Of course, almost immediately he realized the irony. Even Buffy’s mother didn’t consider him datable. He couldn’t imagine Joyce sending Liam O’Brian up to her daughter’s bedroom.

Buffy’s bedroom door was open a crack, so he watched her for a second before knocking on the doorframe. She was listening to some happy pop music and painting her toenails with a bright pink nail polish. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. She had very pretty little feet. He’d never considered them before. He would from now on.

She jumped slightly at his knock, smiled for a second and then frowned. William figured that for a second she had forgotten his idiotic behavior, but that she remembered now.

“What are you doing here?”

He held up the book he’d brought. “You’re doing your paper on Lincoln, right? This book has a lot of information about The Gettysburg Address.” He walked into her room and handed her the book.

Buffy looked at it skeptically. “Right. The paper is due on Friday. I couldn’t possibly read this whole book and write the paper by then, so…”

He just stared at her for a moment. “Use the index to find the most relevant sections and read those.”

“Oh.” She shrugged and placed the book on her bed. “Thanks.”

William stared at it. His book was on her bed. It was sitting on her bed with her. She was already wearing pajamas, silly blue ones with big puffy clouds. He wondered if she would bother to move the book before she crawled under the covers and went to sleep.

“What happened to your hand?”

William glanced at his red knuckles and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Oh.” She looked at him curiously for a moment. “So did you…I mean is that all?”

“Have you asked him yet?”

Her eyes widened. “What? No. I’m going to do it at school. Tomorrow.”

He turned and looked around her bedroom. He hadn’t been in her room in months. It didn’t look any different. “Oh. That makes sense.”

“So, I guess no one’s asked you yet…to the dance.”

He frowned. “Why would you say that?” He hated that she didn’t think any girl could ever be interested in him.

“Because you didn’t even know that girls are supposed to do the asking.”

She might have had a point there, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “No.”

“I’ll bet Willow will ask you if you want to go. She doesn’t have anyone she wants to go with. Do you want me to ask her to?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to go to the dance with Willow.” She looked like she was going to argue and he didn’t want to, so he shook his head. “I should get home. I still have some work to finish.” His head tilted to the side as he studied her for a moment. “I like your pajamas.” He turned and walked away.

It was dumb thing to say. That’s what he thought while he hurried back across the street. Being in her bedroom was too distracting. He couldn’t stand there next to all of her things, smelling her perfume and thinking about the likelihood that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her pajama top and also think of good things to say.

When he got home he announced that he was going to take a shower before turning in. His mother laughed.

“You just took a shower this afternoon.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot.” He walked up to his bedroom and flopped on the bed. What did she check to see if his towel was wet when she came home? His mother was like the bloody shower police, there was no lock on his bedroom door and he was painfully hard. Life sucked.

The next day started off bad and then got worse. First, while William was still listening to his mother remind him that she and his father would not be home until late, he heard a car pull up in front of Buffy’s house. Peeking out the window confirmed it; Buffy had gotten one of her other friends to pick her up for school. He watched her climb into the car with a big smile. It made his stomach hurt and he considered for the smallest of moments telling his mother that he didn’t feel well so that he could just go back to bed. He quickly imagined his mother dragging him to the doctor and decided it wasn’t worth it. He nodded distantly through the rest of her instructions and then drove to school with The Clash playing at a volume that could easily cause hearing loss.

William rarely felt homesick for London. He’d fallen so hard and so fast for Buffy Summers of Sunnydale, California that generally the thought of being anywhere but near her caused him distinct distress. Today, though, he missed rain, real rain that was gloomy and cold and gray and made everyone miserable.

His classes were a welcome distraction. He liked learning and he liked showing off what he’d learned nearly as much as learning it. It was nice being good at something. But every time the bell rang he’d have five minutes to get lost in his own head before the next class started. As usual, he used those breaks to find Buffy in the hallway. Most of the time, he didn’t talk to her between classes. Occasionally he said hi and asked her a question that he didn’t truly need an answer to, but normally he just saw her. He knew her schedule so finding her was not very hard. On good days, he could find her between nearly every class. On very good days, she would come up to him in the hallway and ask him a question.

They’d hung out more often the year before. He used to be able to show up at her doorstep without an excuse at all. She used to smile and invite him in to watch a movie or ask if he wanted to go get frozen yogurt. William wasn’t really sure what had happened to change that, but he suspected it was his fault. Somewhere along the way he’d started finding it too hard to pretend all the time. He ached whenever she was close.

He ate his lunch in the Bio-lab. He wasn’t actually taking Biology that term but it was a habit he’d developed the year before and he got extra credit for tutoring the students who were taking it. He knew that he was welcome to go to the cafeteria and sit at whatever table Buffy was at. Some of her other friends would probably look surprised, but it wasn’t like any of them would actually tell him to leave. She would probably smile and ask him why he wasn’t in the lab and he’d feel really good for a few minutes. After that he wouldn’t know what to do. He couldn’t chat with her friends. He’d tried a few times, but it never went well. William knew that he would just end up sitting there trying not to look at her too much. It was better to eat in the Bio-lab.

After his last class he spent some time in the dark room developing the pictures he’d taken for the school newspaper. Of course he could have used a digital camera and made things a little easier, but he liked the intimacy and challenge of the classic SLR. Forty-five minutes in the darkroom and then a half hour in the library. It was his standard Wednesday routine. As always, afterward he headed to the gym to see if Buffy was done with practice and if she wanted a ride home. That’s when it happened. That’s when he found out that having your heart broken actual hurt in a physical way.

He knew immediately what he was watching. Buffy was standing in front of Liam “Angel” O’Brian. She was still wearing her cheerleading uniform and as she spoke she bounced slightly in her sneakers before coming to a standstill with one knee bent inward. William knew she was nervous because she was using her hands to gesture more than she normally did. Liam was nodding and smiling. William knew that he should leave, walk away and try to forget that he’d ever even seen Buffy Summers and her golden hair and big green eyes. He couldn’t. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. When the football player leaned down and kissed Buffy’s cheek, William’s heart stopped. The whole world stopped. He was certain, that for just a second, the entire world was on fire and he was the only one that knew it. But then they started moving again, as though nothing had happened and he watched Buffy nod and pick up her book bag before following Angel out towards the parking lot.

William Pratt had a strict policy on crying. He didn’t do it, especially not in the hallway of the bloody high school. He squared his shoulders and took the long way to his car.

He was half way home when he made a command decision. If he was going to be a pathetic girlfriend-less loser, he was going to be a pathetic girlfriend-less loser with a lock on his door so he could wank without his mother walking in and looking at him like he was a pathetic girlfriend-less loser and also a pervert. He turned and drove to the hardware store.

Of course his mother noticed when she came home and acted as though it was the strangest idea in the world.

“What have you got to hide?”

“Mum, I’m seventeen years old. I should be able to change my clothes without worrying about you coming in.”

She’d suggested that he change in the bathroom but, in a rare showing of male solidarity, his father had told her that it seemed like a fair arrangement and then distracted her with a question about the tie he was planning to wear to a big presentation the next day.

William Pratt smiled for the first time all day.

William’s sense of victory did not last long. By the middle of the next day he realized that the laws of high school dating meant that Angel agreeing to go to the dance with Buffy meant that they were suddenly a couple and that meant they had to do gross couple things in the hallway. The cheek kissing that had nearly given him a heart attack the day before was now full-blown-on-the-lips-kissing. William didn’t see why anyone would want to make out in the hallway. It was disgusting.

On Friday, he decided to stop looking. He even refused to attend the dance and take photographs for the newspaper. The journalism teacher had stared at him, bewildered, for several seconds as though he’d misunderstood. William finally made up an excuse about promising to help his mother with something very important. He wondered if he should have said it was a wake. He really wasn’t used to lying.

Even his best intentions couldn’t keep him from watching her get picked up for the dance though. His parents weren’t home yet, so he watched from the dark living room.

Liam O’Brian parked his car in the exact spot William usually pulled into to drop Buffy off after school. Of course, Liam’s car was nicer. William wondered if Liam’s parents had made him pay for his own car and insurance. He doubted it.

He watched the other boy get out of the car and walk up to the front door. Angel was wearing a suit. William wondered if Joyce would be impressed by that. He knew Buffy would. Joyce let him in and William couldn’t see anything for several minutes. He could guess at what was happening though. He could imagine Angel chatting up Joyce before Buffy floated down the stairs. William was shaking by the time the door opened and the couple came out. He couldn’t tell what color dress Buffy was wearing but he could tell that the dress was short and her heels were high. Buffy’s hand was on Angel’s arm for the entire walk to the car. William hated Angel’s arm. He watched with an impending sense of horror as they both got into Angel’s car and drove away.

William stared at the empty spot on the street for several minutes before turning away. It had happened. Buffy was well and truly with someone else and he’d never even had a chance to make his pitch.

His parents called soon after that to tell him that they’d decided to go out with some clients and that he should break open the kitchen cash stash and order a pizza or some Thai food for dinner. He ordered both and ate them in the living room with the television on at a volume his mother considered gratuitous and the lights still off.

When he heard the car stop outside only a couple hours later he didn’t want to go look. He didn’t even really think it would be Angel and Buffy home that early and if it was he didn’t want to see her kissing him and telling him that she’d had the very best time ever. He found himself staring out the window anyway and watched in surprise as Buffy opened her own door and climbed out of the still running car. She turned to say something to Angel, but he just reached across the front seats and closed her door. He hit the gas too hard as he left.

Buffy stood shivering and watching the car drive away for a moment before she sat down on the curb. He face was down and her shoulders were shaking.

William snatched his jacket from the hook by the front door and walked over to her. He sat beside her on the curb and held out his jacket. “What happened?”

Buffy took his jacket with trembling hands and slowly pulled it on. She shook her head. “It’s too humiliating.”

He nodded and stared at the ground for a few minutes. “Do you want to go for a drive?”

She didn’t say anything for a while and William started to think that she wanted him to leave, finally she nodded. “Yeah.”

He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. She stood up without taking it and followed him across the street to his car.

“Umm…” He pointed towards her thigh. “My keys should be in the pocket.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and she looked up at him. “Oh.” She pulled out his keys and dropped them into his hand.

William quickly opened the passenger side door and waited for her to sit down. “I have to lock the front door. I’ll be quick.” He closed the car door carefully before sprinting across the lawn to lock up the house. His heart raced and he hoped she wouldn’t change her mind before he got back. When he got back to the car he gave her a shy smile and turned the key. The stereo came on, blaring loudly, when he turned on the car. He gave the knob a quick turn and glanced over to see if it had bothered her.

Buffy laughed softly.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he wondered if she knew how sweet her laugh was. “Your dress is…pretty.” It was. He saw now that it was green and had a skirt the swished around her thighs when she walked. The fabric looked soft and smooth and he imagined for just a second what it would have been like to dance with her while she wore that dress.

She looked surprised. “You’re being nice again.”

He shrugged, not knowing how to respond.

“Are you going to tell me that you told me so?”

His brow furrowed. “What about?”

She laughed. “So, that’s a maybe?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“You were right about my not knowing Angel. He was…he…”

William glanced over and realized that she was crying. His breathing sped up. “Oh. Don’t…don’t cry. Please, love.” He pulled into the empty parking lot of a movie theater that had closed years before he moved to town, parked and turned off the car. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He undid his buckle and turned towards her.

She looked over at him with wide, wet eyes. “I feel so stupid. He…he thought I’d sleep with him, like tonight. He got angry.” A small sob escaped her throat. “He said I was a tease, that I’d thrown myself at him and that he should never have taken…”

“He’s an arse. Buffy, please don’t—he doesn’t deserve you. Don’t cry.” He spread his arms awkwardly. “Do you…umm…come here, yeah?”

She quickly slid across the seat and pressed her face against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her loosely and waited to see if she would protest. When she didn’t, he tightened his hold and pulled her a little closer.


“He’s the one who bollixed it up. His loss.” He really hated to hear her cry. In that moment, he actually wished that Angel had been the perfect date, that she’d had a great time and had come home dancing on air.

She sniffled quietly and let him hold her for longer then he’d dreamed possible. Finally, she pulled back a little and looked up at him with a small frown. “Did you know that he was like that? Is that why you were acting so strange?”

He snorted. “No. If I’d known he was going to do that I’d have shot him.”

“William!” She grinned and shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged and tried not to smile too broadly. She hadn’t pushed away his arms.

“So why were you so mad at me?”

“I wasn’t—was just…jealous, I guess.”

Her eyes widened and her voice grew quiet. “Why?”

He stared at her. “The girl I wanted to go with didn’t ask me.” He shrugged, let his arms fall back to his sides and hoped he’d sounded casual.

“Who did you want to go with?”

William shook his head slightly. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does. Who did you want to go to the dance with?”

He swallowed hard and pretended to look at the dashboard for a few moments before meeting her eyes. He could barely hear his own words. “I wanted to go with you.” He held her gaze for only a few seconds before turning away, wondering if she could tell that his hands were shaking.

“William.” She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek very lightly. “I didn’t know.”

He laughed hoarsely and continued to look at his knees. “Yeah. I didn’t know how to…I mean, it’s not like you’re into scrawny, British guys with floppy hair anyway, so…”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a lot of Hugh Grant movies.” Her thumb brushed across his cheekbone. “Will you look at me?”

William took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her eyes. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She just looked at him with this confused expression for what felt like forever. He was about to look away when she suddenly surged forward and pressed her lips against his. Instantly, he moaned deep in his throat and pushed into the kiss.

When he lifted his hands to grab hold of her shoulders, she pulled away and frowned. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Ever?”

She laughed. “I mostly was thinking about tonight.”

He nodded. “Right. Brilliant. Didn’t expect you to…I’m pretty much used to taking care of myself.” His shoulder came up and then dropped back down.

“Too much information. I mean, seriously, why do you say things like that?”

“I don’t know. I just…I don’t want you to think that Liam O’Brian wants you more than I do. I do, you know? A lot. I just…I love you, so…” He realized suddenly what he’d just said and panicked. He turned to look out the window, afraid to see what she was making of his revelation.

“Are you…do you mean it?”

“Yeah.” He continued to study the pavement outside. “I’d do anything for you, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh.”

He waited for several seconds before chancing a quick glance in her direction. Once again she was unreadable. “Are you…do you wish I hadn’t said it?”

“No. I just—I guess I don’t really know what to say back right now.”

“That makes sense.” He nodded.

“I should go home soon. I’m pretty sure I’ve already blown my curfew and my mom might have seen Angel drop me off.”

“Oh. Right.” His head tilted to the side. His eyes narrowed. “Could I kiss you again, first?”

Her cheeks blushed prettily. “Yeah. That would be...nice.”

William slept until 11:45 when his mother knocked loudly on his door and told him he was wasting the whole day. He’d once tried explaining that studies had proven teenagers actually had totally different sleep patterns than everyone else because their bodies produce melatonin later in the evening than younger children and adults do and that the crazy early start time of high school meant that he was always suffering from sleep deprivation. His mother had laughed, rumpled his hair and told him that he’d make a good lawyer. She hadn’t stopped waking him up on weekends though. At least she normally cooked breakfast on the weekend, that, William considered a big plus.

He showered, ate a small mountain of pancakes and started considering excuses that would allow him to go see Buffy. She’d kissed him. He figured that had to be a good sign, but she hadn’t said much about what the kissing meant. He was using a slice of vegetarian bacon to trace a pattern in the leftover maple syrup on his plate when the doorbell rang. He listened curiously as his mother answered the door and nearly fell out of his chair when he realized that she was sending Buffy in to the kitchen to find him.

“Hi.” He stared at her wide-eyed as she walked in.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You said that already.” She walked over and stood in front of the table.

“I suppose I did.” He smiled and ducked his head. “Did your mum make you come over to drop off something or invite my parents to supper?”

“No.”

“So it would be fair to say that you came over to see me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was wondering if you were busy today. Are you?”

“No. No. Definitely not busy.”

She giggled. “Cool.”

William stood up and carried his plate over to the sink. He turned back to her and arched a single eyebrow. “I put a lock on the door to my bedroom. We could go up there and…” He shrugged.

Laughing, Buffy shook her head. “I’m not going to just go up to your room and make out with you.”

He sighed. “Are you sure?” She was still laughing so he grinned. “I’ve been fixing the place up—got a new poster of the Periodic Table.”

“I came over to see if you wanted to come watch a movie at my house. My mom’s going shopping. She wants a new bedroom set.” She grinned. “We have chips.”

“I could go for some chips.” He didn’t even bother trying to sound less excited than he was. He was smiling too broadly to pull off cool.

“Well, as long as there’s something you like at my house.” She rolled her eyes.

“There usually is.”

Buffy grinned.

“I mean your mum is always baking, isn’t she?”

“HaHa…very funny. When do you want to come over?”

“Now.”

“Okay.”

She followed him into the other room and looked at the family photos on the wall while he put on his shoes. When he got to the front door, William looked at the row of coat hooks and frowned.

Buffy giggled. “I still have your jacket.”

“Right. ‘Cause that happened—last night…happened.”

She rolled her eyes again and walked out the door. He called out to his parents that he’d be at the Summers’ house for a bit and followed her out, bare-armed. He was way too happy to feel cold anyway.

Joyce had already left, so they settled in to the living room.

Buffy picked up the remote. “I haven’t snuck a pay per view in ages. What kind of mood are you in? Comedy? Cartoon? Action movie with a guy trying to get vengeance on the bad guys who killed his family slash the only girl he ever loved?” She turned to him and shrugged.

“You can pick, love.”

“Ooh, brave man. You know there’s a new movie where this cute girl meets this cute guy in a sort of cute way and at first they don’t even like each but then they totally realize that they’re like in love with each other but there’s obstacles.”

William laughed and nodded. “That sounds like the kind of movie that makes girls get all cuddly.” He sighed dramatically. “Tough, but I think I can handle it.”

She picked a movie. Even while it was on, William couldn’t remember which one she chose. He just watched her.

She told him to sit on the couch and twenty minutes into the movie she slid down so that she was leaning against his side. Her hair smelled good and he wondered if would be wrong of him to find out what shampoo she used and buy some just to have that scent all the time. He waited an entire hour before giving in to temptation, brushing her hair to the side and kissing the back of her neck.

She gasped softly and froze.

He placed another soft kiss on her neck. “Is this okay?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently.

She turned towards him slightly. “What if I said that I didn’t want you to?”

William pulled his hands back. “Then I stop.”

Buffy quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

“I thought you wanted me to stop.”

She shook her head. “No. I just wanted to know that you would stop if I asked you to.”

“You’re weird.”

“Not as weird as you.”

“You like me though?” The question popped out of his mouth before he’d had a chance to filter it. He regretted it instantly but couldn’t help studying her face while he waited for her response.

Her smile made his heart race. “Yeah. I do.” She kissed him again, softly, and snuggled against him for the rest of the movie.

He made use of his new lock when he went home. Twice.

Monday morning after his second class, William leaned against his locker and watched Buffy chat with some girls on the other side of the hall. His eyes widened in surprise when she turned suddenly and marched over to him.

“William?”

He frowned at her tone. She seemed annoyed, but he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. “Yeah?”

“You’re my boyfriend now, right? So maybe instead of pretending to go to your locker and then staring at me like a creeper you could just come over and say hi, give me a quick kiss–”

He didn’t wait another second. His hand cupped the back of her head and his mouth slammed against hers for a deep, possessive kiss. When he finally pulled back, they’d gained an audience and Buffy was almost breathless.

She stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. That’s…good, really…umm, maybe less tongue…at school, but that’s better.” Blushing, she left for her next class a few seconds later.

William watched her walk the length of the hallway and grinned as she turned the corner. For the first time in his life, a teacher stepped in to the hall and asked him if there was a reason he wasn’t in class.

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m goin’.” William Pratt was no longer a girlfriendless loser.



Tuesday morning on the drive to school, Buffy turned to him with a sheepish expression.

He watched her bite her lip and held back a groan at the thought of kissing that lip all better. “What’s up?”

“Okay, see, I know that you like help out in the lab at lunch time and that’s cool…I mean it’s nice that you do that and I don’t want to be one of those girlfriends who are all needy and clingy and stuff. I guess I’m just wondering if you have to do it every day. It would be nice if you could come to lunch with me sometimes…if you want to.”

“You want me to come to lunch with you?” He gave her a quick glance before bringing his eyes back to the road.

“Well…yeah. I mean if you can’t or don’t want to or–”

“I can. I’ll come today.” She wanted to spend more time with him. He soared.

Her invitation, knowing that she wanted him there, didn’t really make it less awkward to talk with her friends. They weren’t a bad sort, they all said hi and gave him a quick smile, but most of the conversation seemed to be in a short hand that he didn’t know and featured in jokes that he wasn’t in on. All of that seemed far less important when Buffy was holding his hand or whispering silly explanations in his ear or insisting that he finish her French fries.

William had been lulled into an almost relaxed state when Xander Harris ended a long and strange story with the claim that karma existed to ensure global justice and it was just a matter of time before a dark fate landed on the girl that had mocked him for asking her out last weekend.

William scoffed. “Please. If there were any justice in the world, I would be six feet tall, have a massive knob and a hovercraft.” It was the first thing he’d said to the group since muttering hello when he sat down.

They all turned to him with wide-eyed surprise.

He was about to apologize, when Xander nodded. “The man brings up a good point. Where are the hovercrafts?”

William grabbed on to the lifeline. “It’s like dirigibles, the technology is there.”

Oz, who William thought might actually speak even less often than he did but managed to look comfortable anyway, gestured with his fork. “Society lacks vision.”

Xander and William nodded in unison while chorusing wistfully. “Yeah.”

Buffy frowned and glanced around. “Is this a Star Wars thing?”

Xander groaned as though in pain before reaching over the table to clamp a large, sweaty hand on William’s shoulder. “Really, man. We like Buffy, but you have got to do something about this glaring gap in her education or we aren’t going to be able to let her sit with us anymore. It’s embarrassing for the group as a whole.”

Before he even understood what was happening, William had plans for a Saturday Star Wars movie marathon with the entire table group. He couldn’t decide if he was dreading it or looking forward to it. Buffy was smiling though and he decided that was all that really mattered.

It occurred to him that evening that if she was his girlfriend it would be almost assumed that they would go to dances together. He decided that he’d check with her and find out.

It still took him three more days to ask.

It was Friday and they were most definitely not watching the movie they’d rented from the red machine in front of the grocery store. It played in the background two full times as a handy cover in case his parents came home. Kissing, William decided, was a very special form of torture. Before he’d done it, kissing Buffy had always seemed like an end goal in itself. Now the kissing seemed like a first step, the taunting entrance into a whole world of inching forward and getting pushed back. Buffy had made it clear that she wasn’t going to be jumping on board the sex train any time soon and he accepted that, intellectually. Physically, it was more complicated. He genuinely didn’t want to push, but his body sometimes seemed to act without signals from his brain. The problem was that she said that she didn’t want to rush into the physical stuff and then did insanely hot things. She had actually climbed onto his lap about an hour earlier and, while she swatted his hands when he’d tried to slid them down her back and onto her ass, every single time she leaned forward he could feel her nipples press against his chest and her stomach press against his cock. He considered it a miracle he wasn’t weeping from the frustration.

He lifted her up and pressed her down towards the other side of the couch. “Hold on,” he ordered before closing his eyes and trying to think of something that was not sexy. He’d heard the old cliché about thinking of the Queen but he’d watched The Young Victoria with his mum and thought Emily Blunt was more than all right.

“William?”

“Just need a minute, yeah?”

“I could stop.”

His eyes shot open. “No! Just let me cool off for a mo and–” He stopped talking and frowned. She was giggling. “What’s so funny?”

“You. You’re face. I didn’t mean stop forever. I just meant stop for tonight.”

“I know that.”

“But you looked…horrified.”

“Well, yeah.” He shook his head, irritated and a little embarrassed. “Look, when is that dance?”

She frowned. “What dance?”

“You know, the prom or whatever?”

“May.”

“Will you go with me?” His heart stopped. The world was completely silent as he watched her forehead scrunch in confusion.

“We’re not seniors. You can’t go to the prom unless you’re a senior or your date is one.”

He huffed slightly. “Fine. But ours, then. Go with me.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head slightly. “You’re asking me to the prom two years ahead of time?”

“More like seventeen months.” He wanted to scream. Why was she so hung up on the details?

“That’s kind of crazy.”

“Right, then. Fine.” He stood up and started walking out of the room. He didn’t intend to leave for good; he just needed a moment alone.

She followed him. “William, I just meant that a lot can happen in that time. What if we break up?”

He froze and turned back to face her. His face was an unreadable mask. “Why are you breaking up with me?”

“Not now. I just meant–”

“No. I understand. In this break up scenario, the one that you are already thinking about, why are you ending things?”

“Maybe you would leave me.”

“No.”

“William.”

“No, Buffy. I won’t break up with you. You know I’m only being honest. I…” He sighed heavily and his head tilted to the side as he looked at her. “Am I already doing something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

“Are you still thinking about…do you still like Angel?”

“What? No. Gross!” She took another step towards him and placed her hand on his chest. “I like you. I really like you. Okay?”

He nodded. “Can I be your date for the prom? Please.”

She laughed softly. “Okay, but remember to get a wrist corsage instead of the kind you have to pin over a girl’s boob. Those suck.”

William grinned widely and nodded. “What about the dances before the prom? Will you go to all of those with me?”

“I didn’t realize that you liked school dances this much.”

“I don’t. I just…I just like you this much.”

Her cheeks pinked as she ducked her head. “I’ve heard that the junior prom is especially lame.”

“Going would make you happy though, right? Putting on a pretty dress and all.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Going with you will make me happy.”

“Brilliant.” He grinned and bounced slightly. “Bloody brilliant.”

She rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You really are very strange.” Her hand came up to tangle itself in his hair. “But apparently I like strange boys with curly hair.”

“I’ve been thinking about bleaching it.”

“Your hair?” Her eyebrows went up comically.

He nodded. “I need an edgier look, right?”

“Not if you want to be my prom date.”

“You already agreed to that, love. Can’t go adding clauses to the contract now.” He watched her roll her eyes and laughed. Buffy Summers had agreed to be his prom date. He knew immediately that his life would never be the same.