the cadence of part time poets

Chapter 57: Cherry, Amended

Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining,
Players only love you when they're playing;
Say, women, they will come and they will go,
When the rain washes you clean, you'll know;
You'll know...

- "Dreams" Fleetwood Mac, 1977

Wednesday 13th April 1977

Despite arriving early, Remus did not spot Marlene on the platform. He tried waiting, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet until the train's whistle was screaming and James all but dragged him aboard. Feeling antsy as they made their way down the train's aisle, he peeked into the passing compartments in search of a familiar wheat-blonde ponytail, and only stopped after Peter had asked what he was looking for. Deciding that it might just be better to wait to apologise at school where they might have some real privacy, Remus solemnly padded after his friends to their usual seats. He was doing a good job of chalking his sombre mood up to general tiredness, until about an hour into their trip when Mary and Lottie passed by their carriage. Without saying anything, the girls waved through the compartment window to each of the lads, but when it came to Remus, proceeded to flash him several gestures of his own, these of the more crude variety.

As the girls disappeared back the way they'd come, Sirius leaned back against the seat with his hands behind his head, appearing nothing less than amused. "Blimey, Moony. What did you fucking do?"

"Nothing!" Remus snapped. " 'Least nothing that's any of your business." He tried not to think about how Sirius had his legs extended, stretching across the cabin towards him in a lazy fashion until he was nearly tucking the toe of his Oxford under the hem of Remus' pant leg. The teasing gesture had been giving him goosebumps ever since they'd left the station. Remus also tried not to think about how Sirius' cheeky smile—the same smile he'd been seeing for the past year and then some—now left him with very guilty knots in the base of his stomach. It made him hate himself—Remus the failure. Being in love with your best friend couldn't be the best way to make-up with your girl-friend.

At least Sirius seemed okay. Though he'd tried not to voice it (Sirius didn't like the fretting), Remus had been worried. Worried for him, about him—it never ended. Especially not after Christmas, when Sirius had returned with a flighty disposition and a bum-wrist. It'd taken weeks and an intervention on Regulus' part just to get through to him, but apparently this time around had been better. Since their arrival Sirius had been laughing and joking with his friends, a wide smile on his face. It made Remus happy, until he turned that smile on him.

"It's McKinnon, isn't it?" Sirius ragged. "She finally kick your lanky arse to the curb?"

"No." At least, he didn't think so.

"You in the dog house, Moony?" Peter snarked.

"Go on, tell us," James went on. "M'sure it couldn't have been that bad. We swear to help ease your heavy heart."

"We just had a bit of a row," Remus amended gruffly. "It's normal. Don't try telling me none of you don't get into it with your girlfriends?"

"No need to get nasty," Sirius said.

"Oh? Shall I try asking them then? How 'bout Lily, Prongs? When was the last time the two of you had it out?"

James grimaced a bit. "Well, I—"

"And Moira, Pete? Or Chas? Boy, I'll bet she'd love to share."

At that, all three boys looked away and Sirius began to whistle innocently. Irritated and not the least bit satisfied with his miniscule win, Remus turned to his window and propped his elbow up on the edge, glaring out at the rolling countryside as it passed them by. Then, for good measure, he kicked Sirius' shoe away by the toe. Sirius recoiled instantly, and Remus felt his eyes on him in question until he finally shrugged and turned away.