Boys of Summer

Unknown House, London, UK
July 5th
1:10 AM
DANI'S POV

I sat on the railing of the porch, swinging my legs as Dougie leaned casually beside me, his elbows resting on the blue wood. "So," he said awkwardly. He'd promised to stay with me for the rest of the night, so I wouldn't do anything stupid, but I think we're both starting to regret the offer.

"So," I replied, digging my nails into the wood to calm my nerves. I was jumpy, and I'm not sure why. Maybe it was the tension between Dougie and I, maybe it was the idea of Danny appearing at any moment and demanding an explanation. All I know is I'm tense, and almost craving a fight, just to get out some of this energy.

"Why don't you like your dad," Dougie asked bluntly. He shook his stiff, gelled bangs out of his eyes as he glanced at me, studying my reaction. Oh, yes, that helps a shit load, asshole! "What teenager doesn't hate her parents," I questioned evasively. I've gotten good at talking around the truth.

"No, it's more than that. You're scared of him," Dougie guessed, speaking with a strange certainty. I glanced at Dougie, meeting his eyes for a moment before turning away quickly. How the hell did he get that? No one's gotten that in my entire life, I'm not even sure Harry would see it if he didn't know.

"Why should I be scared of him?" I started to chew on my cheek, flinching as I cut my left one open. Always answer a question with a question. "That's what I'm asking you. What'd he do to you?"

"Why do you care," I asked, annoyed with him. First he thinks he has the right to invade my life and give me advice when he obviously doesn't like me, and now he suddenly cares about my dad? Who does this guy think he is? "I'm just trying to understand you a little better," Dougie defended, shrugging and trying to appear uninterested.

"Well, cut it out," I snapped, my cheek acting more as gum. Sick of the metallic taste of blood, I took a swig of my drink, water, to wash out the disgusting taste, and then shoved a piece of gum in my mouth. The sugar stung a little, and the tastes mixed awkwardly for a while. But soon the taste of mint overpowered to rusty taste of blood and I was able to ignore the bleeding.

"You know, you have a problem talking about your feelings," Dougie blurted as I shoved another piece of gum into my mouth. I turned to face the boy, who I'm quite sure was raised by wolves, with an appalled offence. "I have a problem talking about my feelings? You have a problem talking."

"I say what's on my mind," Dougie defended as I slid off the railing, stepping down on the grass, "And where are you going?" "Home," I yelled over my shoulder, stomping defiantly across the lawn and towards the busy street. People looked at my oddly as I heard Dougie jump the railing.

He grabbed my arm, "What do you mean 'home?'" "I mean I'm going back to the apartment," I said, turning when Dougie pulled. "I don't want to be at this party." "It's a fine party; you just have an issue talking about things and facing problems." "What?!" Does this guy have no brain?

"You heard me," he said, looking at me stupidly. "How the hell do you have audacity to say that? Do you have some endless supply of stupid things to say, you idiotic MORON!" Oh, yeah, I was very tense before all of this. It feels good to get this out.

"At least I'm not lying about everything," Dougie accused, ignoring the crowd that was starting to form around us. "I'm not lying about ANYTHING, you just ask the WORST questions in the world!" "You're just unreasonable!"

I stared at Dougie for a moment, slack-jawed. But, conscious of the crowd and their intent eyes upon us, I turned, hoping that the people would part and let me through. Before I could even make it to the edge of the stereotypical circle that had formed, though, Dougie called, "Oh, fine, run away, you're just a coward."

Turning, I glared at him. Coward? With everything I've fucking been through, he's calling me a coward? Who the hell does he think he is? My steps were slow, measured, like you usually see in the horror movies. But Dougie wasn't intimidated; he wouldn't be intimidated.

I squared off to him, my jaw set and my eyes deadly. I was about to do something when I saw someone break through the circle, sliding in the mud between me and Dougie. Both he and I jumped back in surprise at our angry trance being broken, amazed as a semi-drunk Harry sat in the mud, "Don't fight!"

Dougie's nose wrinkled, but I sighed, switching into a motherly mode. I leaned down to pick Harry out of the mud, "Come on, then. Guess I'm learning how to drive in London." "You won't be driving," Dougie protested as he followed me and Harry to the car, "I'm designated driver." To prove his point, Dougie shook the keys in my face.

"You're more drunk than I am!" "I'm not drunk," he protested, "And I know how to drive in London." "It isn't that different; you switch the sides of the road." "You don't know how to get there," Dougie challenged, crossing his arms and seeming smug. "Oh, Lord forbid SOMEONE will tell me how to get to the apartment."

"What's happening," someone called, and I squinted toward the deck to see Danny coming. Oh great, I need to get out of here. "Fine," I said, giving in, if only it meant to get away. I threw Harry, who had been leaning on me, at Dougie, "You drive the band home. You can round them up, too. I'm walking."

I turned, Harry calling after me incoherently. Since when does he drink that much? Oh well, I'm going to run now. Yeah, I'll look like a coward, but anything is better than talking to Danny. And I still have some energy I can work off.

It wasn't until I had sprinted three blocks that I heard someone following me, "Dans, DANS!" I sighed as I recognized the accent and voice, deeper and harder to understand than the rest of the boys. I slowed to a jog as the slapping of sneakers against the ground continued to speed up, Danny overshooting me.

When I finally met him on the street corner, he was stooped over, panting. "Wow," I mused, "Someone needs to go jogging every now and then." Danny blushed a little as he straightened, smiling as he continued to catch a bit of his breath.

"What are you doing?" "I'm walking home. I don't want to talk with Dougie," I said, trying to be stony and stoic, so that he might back off and understand that a relationship is not something I want. No matter what I actually want, I promised Harry that nothing would happen, and I plan to make good on that promise.

"You never want to talk to Dougie," Danny observed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he and I crossed the street. "Do you know where the apartment is?" I questioned. "It's a long walk," he responded. "Do you know where it is," I asked again.

"Yeah, yeah, course I do," Danny said. He didn't seem to realize the fact that I was any kind of annoyed with him, but it's hard to be annoyed with Danny if you aren't actually annoyed with him. I mean, I'm annoyed with him, but I also just got rid of so much tension that my body had been going on with Dougie that I couldn't really show annoyance towards anyone right about now.

After another ten minutes of walking, I suggested getting a cab. The awkwardness was tangible between the two of us, both wondering when the other would bring up what we didn't want to. "Danny," I said, grabbing his arm as he raised it to hail the cab.

"Dans," Danny responded, looking at me for a moment. In that moment, my heart skipped a few beats, and Danny leaned in, as if for another kiss. Pulling a very movie-used move, I turned my cheek, which Danny then pressed his lips to.

"Danny," I repeated as Danny pulled away, "That can't happen... ever again." "Bit harsh," Danny muttered, his forehead resting against mine. Wow, someone takes rejection well. "No, it isn't," I responded, breaking away.

"I promised Harry I wouldn't get involved with you, Danny." "You did," Danny questioned, looking at me with confused and almost hurt eyes. I nodded. "You said 'I promise?' Cause if you didn't it's not a promise."

"I didn't exactly say-" "Then it isn't a proper promise, and you're fine-" "No, I'm not, Danny," I responded. "I told you before, Harry isn't letting anything happen in London. And even if he was, what will happen when we break up? Either I'd never get to visit again or Harry would be so angry at you he'd leave the band, or something like that." "Or," Danny suggested, "We continue with our lives like civilized people. Why does Harry need to have a say in our relationship?"

"Because he's my cousin," I said, almost squeaking, "He has a say in everything I do. I trust him and his judgment." "So it's your law," Danny accused. "No, but if it's something he knows more about, then what choice do I really have but to listen?"

"You can form your own opinion, you can have some free will!" "Well, if you think I'm such a fucking DOORMAT, then why do you even want to date me?" "Cause I know you're not!" Danny thundered back at me, seeming amazed that I would ask such a question.

I had no response, and Danny obviously had nothing to say. Turning defiantly, he raised his arm to hail a taxi for the two of us. A few seconds later, Tom's car pulled up to the curb. Jess stuck her head out the window, "Hey, you guys need a ride."

Inside the car, I could see Dougie smirking, but I tried to ignore it as I slipped into the backseat, sliding over Tom to get to Harry's lap. He groaned, which caused Dougie to laugh and make a fat joke, but I ignored everyone.

Actually, not true, I lie, "Hey, Jess, you want to stay over tonight?" Jess glanced over at me and, upon seeing my slightly desperate eyes, nodded, "Yeah, that sounds fun." If Tom had been awake, I'm sure he would've protested or applauded.

Harry/Danny's Apartment, London, UK
July 5th
3:59 AM
JESS' POV

I sat there in shock as Dani finished her tale, ending with the explanation of her argument with Danny. Sure, Danny liked girls, and girls seemed to love the bumbling sort-of charm he'd developed, but I'd never seen Danny quite like this.

You haven't seen Danny since he was eighteen, my inner voice reasoned, and so I tried to keep that in mind. Before giving my advice, though, I looked down the hall, to be sure that Danny wasn't listening in.

I was staying in the living room with Dans for the night, and so far she'd made popcorn, milkshakes, and put brownies into the oven. She started the Danny-conversation by mentioning that she likes junk food when she's upset, like so many people.

Of course, being a semi-typical girl, I sat her down immediately to talk to me while the brownies were baking, and she had no problem telling me of her dilemma.

Speaking of the brownies, Dans' watch beeped, signaling they were ready. I followed her into the kitchen, "So, you like Danny?" Dans nodded, "But I've also only known him for a week. Harry has known him for, like, three years." "And you're leaving to go home on the tenth," I finished for her.

Sighing as she opened the oven, she gave a definitive nod. "Are you a fling person?" "Not at all," she responded, pulling the warm-fudge brownies out of the oven and shaking her head. "Well, then point out to Danny that you don't do flings."

"But what about a long-distance relationship?" "Danny wouldn't push that," I said certainly. After all, there's only so much a boy can change in two years, "He doesn't like them, anyway." "Good," Dani responded, obviously relieved at the information.

"So," I questioned, "Are you going to talk to him about it?" "Are you kidding," Dans asked, grabbing a knife from the silverware drawer and cutting the brownies carefully, "I've got five days left. If I can just avoid it, then I won't come back for another year, and it will all blow over."

"So, you're avoiding it?" "I prefer to call it waiting out the storm." "I prefer to call it AVOIDING IT." It was meant to guilt Dani into talking to Danny, but she seemed unaffected as she shrugged, "Po-tate-oh, Po-tah-to."

We sat in relative silence as the brownies cooled. As she handed me one, still warm, I questioned, "You're seriously not going to bring it up." "Not if he doesn't." I rolled my eyes, wondering where the charismatic, fuck-you girl I sat on the couch with was. She was the one I wanted to spend the night with.

I gave it one more shot as she and I settled in for the night a half hour later, "Do you even like Danny?" "Of course I do," Dans said, offended. "And you for real won't talk about it to him? You're just going to let him think that you were stringing him along-"

"You won't shut up until I agree to talk to him, will you?" "Nope," I responded smugly. "Okay, okay, tomorrow, after breakfast. They have a gig, I'll talk to him afterwards about it." "Thank you." "Night."