fundamentals of love ; james sirius potter

10. ellie vs the media, again

I don't think I'll ever live up to the expectations people have for me.

It's a Sunday morning, I'm at a bookstore staring at a few dozen used books trying to figure out what I should spend my little money on today. I'm leaning towards some poetry book by Mary Oliver because she's, I'm not exaggerating at all, the only reason I get up most mornings.

Yet, there's some copy of Anna and the French Kiss which is some cheesy romance novel that I already have a copy of at home, but this is a special edition cover. You can never have enough versions of your favourite comfort book, right?

When I'm at the til paying, there are two books in my hand and my wallet looks a little bit more empty. The bored teenage boy has straightened up at the sight of me. He's got dark curls and braces and honestly, looks like he'd be Hugh's type.

"You come here often," he asks, betraying his indifference with a hint of hopefulness.

I nod, as I tuck my books into my tote bag. "Yeah, I live down the street actually," I say. "But I haven't been here in a while."

"Cool."

"I guess so."

I'm about to leave when he asks, "Would ever want to go watch a movie or something?"

He seems so sweet and young, and I didn't realise being nineteen meant I still passed for sixteen most of the time. So I give him a sympathetic smile, "I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry."

"That's alright if it never works out though . . ."

"I know who to call," I finish for him, with a laugh.

With a quick little wave, I'm walking out of the place. As I open the door, the bell rings and the sunshine hits me like I'm a jaywalker on a busy highway. I'm blinded for a few moments and I realise that it isn't just sunshine that's caused my loss of vision. It's all the flash of a camera.

I'm frozen, rubbing my eyes trying to get the black spots to disappear. "Oh, holy fucking bitch," I mutter. "You gotta turn that flash down, it's literally eleven in the morning. I'm sure you'd be good without it."

There's a chuckle, and as my vision starts clearing. I'm staring at a tall man with a baseball cap, notepad, and camera slung around his neck. It's far too easy to tell he's a reporter (though he does look like some diner owner with a love for photography if you squint enough).

He takes another picture.

"You wanna give me your name before you continue to violate my privacy."

"Javier," he says, with a toothy smile. "Privacy is nonexistent once you're dating Potter."

I hate that he's right, so I clutch my bag and narrow my eyes. "That is wonderful information, Javier, but I'll be going now," I say, starting to turn and walk in the opposite direction.

He's right on my trail though. "I just wanted to ask you some questions, Ellie," he's flipping through his notebook. "How long have you and James been dating?"

"Uhm, only two weeks."

"Your family approves?"

I nod, starting to walk faster.

"Who made the first move and who decided to make it official?"

"James made the first move," I say because Collette had said the key was to always tell as much of the truth as you could, but never tell more than what you're asked of. "I wanted to make it official."

"You like putting labels on?"

I shrug. "I'm old-fashioned. I like guys making the first move, labels, and just having that stability I feel we've wandered away from."