The next morning while making breakfast, I spill the news to Effy about Harry being a movie star/boy band singer/teen heartthrob.
"Is that so?" she says, thoughtfully sipping her tea. "He doesn't strike me as the type to be in a boy band. He's got tattoos and everything."
"How do you know he has tattoos?" I ask, removing the hot waffles from the sizzling waffle iron.
I drizzle mine with maple syrup while Effy bathes hers in molasses, chocolate chips and various fruit slices. How she keeps her shape with that appetite and never stepping foot in a gym is beyond me.
"I saw them when he came round yesterday," she answers. "His shirt was unbuttoned a tad and you could clearly see the start of two large tattoos upon his chest."
"Were you checking him out?"
"So what if I was?" she giggles, waving her fork at me. "You're just his mate, remember?"
"Yeah," I defend, "I am. I was just... wondering."
She pushes her hair over her shoulder and digs into her feast.
"So," she says between bites, "have you shagged him yet?"
"Effy!" I shout, glowering at her.
"It's just a question!" she can barely say through her hysterical laughter. "Friends can shag friends. There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, that kind of relationship is grand!"
"I know, but that's not what we are," I say affirmatively.
"Then what are you?"
I pause just a millisecond before answering, "Friends. Just friends." My conscience nags at me but I quickly shut it up.
"Can you believe we've never heard of him before?" Effy says. "Or that band he's in, One Direction or whatever."
As I scrape maple syrup from my plate with a slice of waffle, I ponder that thought for a moment.
"Actually, I can," I finally say, reaching for my mug of tea. "I'm too busy to pay any attention to what's on TV or magazines."
"I could say the same," Effy agrees. "Except it's not that I'm busy so much as I simply don't care for all that celebrity rubbish."
"Says the girl with the biggest crush on Orlando Bloom," I say, rolling my eyes.
A guilty smile spreads across her face.
"Who doesn't have a crush on him? Christ, look at that jaw line," she gushes while shoving her phone's background picture in my face.
"And how does Ansel feel about that?"
"He doesn't know," she whispers as if he's in the room. "By the way, he invited us to his mate's birthday party today. Would you come along? Ansel said there'll be loads of single men."
"How many times have I told you? I'm not looking to meet anyone," I say, exasperated.
"Because you've already got your heart set on Harry, haven't you?"
"My heart isn't 'set' on anyone," I tell her, scrunching my fingers with air quotes. What does my heart know about anything anyway? Its only duty is to pump blood throughout my body, so why does everyone credit it to making choices of the emotional kind? It never made sense to me. "Besides, I have to work today."
She pouts at me while I get up and drop my dishes in the sink. "And we're back to the old Jules," I hear her sigh behind me.
While at work, I see Harry. Not in real life, but a cardboard cut-out of him. He stands alongside his four cardboard bandmates, smiling in front of the promo for their movie.
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Fanfic"Hold on a second," Harry says, suddenly coming to a halt. I stop with him and glance down. Somehow his hand has found its way into mine. "What? What's wrong?" I ask, shivering. "How disgustingly cliche would it be if we kissed in the rain right now...
