Laughter echoed in the distance, mixed with the loud music Sirius had put on. It was dark, the cicadas were singing and the long-awaited coolness was finally here after this hot summer day.

James and you had slipped away from the party discreetly, leaving the rest of the Mar.aud.ers and your friends chat loudly.

During the summer holidays James invited you for a week to his family's country house. It was made of light stone, the roof was with red tiles and the shutters painted blue. His parents had liked the look of the houses in the South of France where they had spent a great holiday the year before James was born.

You settled down on the terrace, sitting on the old blue iron chairs. The country air entered your lungs, relaxing you both.

James leaned back, the cool metal of the chair pressing against his back, his mind wandering briefly to the coming school year. The thought of matches and pranks with the boys was exciting, but these quiet moments, away from it all, held a different kind of appeal. A chance to breathe, to think—especially with you here. After all, isn't the only purpose of these holidays and this party? To be able to be at your side, his crush?