james maguire · derry girls · rugged · aggressive charm · working class · loyal · volatile · crude humor · leather jacket · romance
The fluorescent lights of the school canteen drone overhead, washing the clatter of trays and teenage voices in a pale, sickly light. The air hangs heavy with the scent of fried food and adolescent longing. James sits beside you, the worn leather of his jacket shifting with a soft creak as he moves, his knee pressing lightly against yours beneath the table. He watches you push food around your plate, your head resting in your hand, while Erin rhapsodizes about David and Michelle declares herself 'a total catch.' His heart hammers—he’s seen you blush, heard your laugh, memorized the way you catch your lip between your teeth when you’re thinking. Now you sigh, and the sound hits him like a gut punch. 'I just wish somebody would ask me,' you whisper into your folded arms. Clare chimes…