the cadence of part time poets

Chapter 73: On Dating

So messed up, I want you here,
In my room, I want you here;
Now we're gonna be face-to-face,
And I'll lay right down in my favourite place;
Now I wanna be your dog...

- "I Wanna Be Your Dog" The Stooges, 1969

Friday 16th September 1977

It was official then, Sirius was angry. Maybe livid, even. Aside from the fact that he was clearly keeping Remus at an arm's length, Sirius had hardly spoken to him at all in the past few days. Remus tried telling himself that it was normal—whenever they'd fought in the past, they'd always needed space apart to find their way back together again. But as the hours turned into days and Sirius showed no inclination of returning to his side, Remus began to grow antsy.

"I hope the weather holds out for tomorrow, it'd be such a shame to get washed out during our first trip off campus," Mary said, holding a hand over her eyes as she surveyed the dark grey clouds looming outside the common room window.

"Wear a mac and some boots, you'll stay dry enough," Marlene said blithely, her legs kicked up over the arm of a Rowena-blue armchair.

Mary spun around and seized the book she was reading, only to start fanning herself with its cover. "A mac and a pair of wellies do not make for a cute date ensemble, Marlene."

"Give that back! Who even says it has to be a date anyway?"

"Uh—everyone? That's literally what these weekends off in the village are for. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if a group of parents banded together originally and commissioned them. How else are they supposed to ensure that their kiddies find themselves a fruitful match?"

"You're insane."

"And you're naive. C'mon, you tell her, Remus."

Remus looked up at the pair, only half listening. "Uh?"

"Tell Marls that one cannot look cute with their hair smashed beneath a rain bonnet."

Remus just blinked, and Marlene reached over the back of her chair to snatch the book back. "Bring an umbrella then, you drama queen."

As Mary primped her hair, smiling like a cat, Lily reached over and tapped Remus' notebook with her pencil. "Remus, that one's incorrect."

"What? Oh." He looked down and sighed. All afternoon he'd spent in the girls' common room—just one of his new perks as a prefect—working on homework, and yet he'd barely made a dent in any of his assignments. But really, how could he be expected to focus on school when Sirius hated him?

He doesn't hate you, Remus reminded himself; He just hates what you did. Give him time. 

He'd been recounting similar thoughts ever since Tuesday, since their conversation in the bathroom. Before then he'd stupidly assumed that they were on the same wavelength, that they were both in love but acting consciously to ensure that no one ever came close to figuring it out . Now it was clear that Sirius expected more. He expected Remus to want whatever it was they had just as much as he—and Remus did! He just didn't know how to prove it.

Am I not enough for you? He also wanted to demand of Sirius; Is it not enough to just have me? Is this love not enough?

God, how Remus was starting to hate love; it was the excruciating polarity of it all. Love made everything more complicated, it made you miss people, even when they were standing right next to you. It was like an endless sea, and he was the inexperienced sailor, adrift blindly amongst its waves. He didn't have enough luck to bet on calm waters. He might've, except  real luck didn't favour selfish people.