𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, jeremiah fisher

twelve. friends

"Don't do that."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Play it off as if it's nothing. You think I can't see how much their words hurt you, but I can. And I hate that you feel like you have to shove down your feelings for people like them."

I blink. He stares at me in a way I haven't ever been stared at before, and I suddenly feel as if we're drifting into uncharted territory.

Clearing my throat, I break eye contact and look down at my lap.

"Autumn."

One word. Two syllables. A thousand butterflies swarming my stomach.

Desperate for a subject change, I ask, "Why do you always call me that?"

He purses his lips but doesn't say anything about me avoiding the subject.

"Call you what? Your name?"

Thankful for the shift back to our usual sarcastic quips, I roll my eyes.

"Everyone calls me Rose or Rosie, but you always call me Autumn."

He shrugs. "I like your name."

I narrow my eyes. "That doesn't explain anything."

He lets out a soft chuckle. "I don't know. I remember hearing your name for the first time and thinking it was pretty. But no one called you that, so I figured I'd just call you Autumn and then I never stopped."

I resist the urge to smile, though the corner of my lips quirks up.

"That was the name my biological parents gave me," I tell him. "My dad decided to make Rose my middle name so that's why everyone just calls me that."

He looks at me and smiles. "I didn't know that." He leans back against the wall. "No wonder you love it every time I call you Autumn."

I scoff. "Where the fuck did you get that idea?"

He smirks. "From the fact that you blush every time I say your name."

Heat rises to my cheeks, but I roll my eyes to hide it. "You're full of yourself."

He laughs and then we stand in silence for a few minutes, both lost in our own thoughts. And then I say something stupid.

"Why do you hate me?" I blurt out.

He quirks a brow at me. "I think the better question is why you hate me."

I send him a serious, intense look. The truth spills from my lips as if it's been waiting to for years.

"I don't," I say quietly.

A frown touches his mouth. "What?"

I sigh, biting my lip in hesitance. If I say it, that changes everything. If I say it, he'll have so many questions. If I say it, I will finally be able to breathe.

So I say it.

"I've never hated you, Jeremiah."

His eyes widen. "What are you talking about? You've hated me since we were kids."

"I didn't," I admit. "I only pretended to because you hated me after I called you a tiny toad."

He lets out a startled laugh. "Autumn, I didn't hate you because of that. I never hated you. I mean, yes, I sort of disliked you when we were kids. But I never hated you, and I definitely don't dislike you now."

I blink in surprise. "Wait. So all this time that we've been 'enemies,' you haven't actually hated me?"

He shakes his head. "What I'm more surprised about is that you've never hated me. I mean you teased me all the time and insulted me as if you really hated my guts."

I want to say it was because I wanted his attention. That I was desperate for it and that was the only way I knew to get it. But now's not the right time for that conversation because I know he won't feel the same way.

I'm quiet for a second.

"I'm sorry."

He lifts a brow in confusion.

"I'm sorry for insulting you and whatever," I continue. "I've just always been really bad at making friends."

He blinks. And then he takes a step in my direction.

"Are you saying you teased me because you wanted to be my friend?" he asks, voice so quiet I have to strain my ears to hear him.

I wince. "When you say it like that, I sound like a jerk."

He shakes his head and starts walking closer to me. The fresh scent of lemons and lavender causes me to take a step back. Except that one step makes my back hit the wall behind me. Jeremiah stops right in front of me, staring at me intensely.

"Are you serious, Autumn?" For a second, I think he's mad, but then he says, "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

I shrug. "I told you I don't know how to make friends. Why do you think my only friends are Vanessa and my brother?"

His throat bobs, and my eyes follow the movement.

His hand lifts and presses into the wall beside my head. He levels me with his gaze, eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher in my wildest dreams. I swallow, taking in his sweet scent and trying not to let him hear my rapid heartbeat.

Just as he opens his mouth to say who knows what, the door swings open.

One of the other employees, Marcus, walks in. His eyes widen when he sees us.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he says. "I just needed to get some fresh towels."

I clear my throat, slipping away from Jeremiah.

"Go ahead," I tell Marcus, my voice sounding weird even to my own ears.

I can't look at Jeremiah as I leave.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 !

i think it's illegal that niall horan has a song called san francisco and he's not coming there for tour. the closest city he's coming to is mountain view which is the show i'm going to so hopefully he still sings san francisco??

also i have a love-hate relationship with the interchangeable setlist thing. like it's giving me anxiety about not getting my fav songs. if i don't get this town or still, i will scream.