Chapter 324: Andrew’s team

Andrew entered his apartment and, after Paige walked through the door, closed it behind her.

"How much suffering are you willing to endure tonight?" Andrew asked as he took off his jacket and set it aside. "One movie, two, or three?"

Paige walked over to the living room and dropped onto the couch, "Mmm..." she murmured, adopting a thoughtful expression before looking at the clock hanging on the wall.

It wasn’t even eight thirty at night yet.

The next day, they both had classes, and Paige knew that Andrew also had to wake up early to train.

"Two?" Paige finally suggested, "Wait a minute. Let me see how long they are."

She pulled out her phone and did a quick search online.

"New Moon, which would be the second installment, is one hundred and thirty minutes long. Eclipse, the third, one hundred and twenty-four," she said as she read, then looked up at Andrew.

"Altogether, that’s four hours and fourteen minutes. If we start now, we’d finish at approximately twelve twenty-seven in the morning."

Paige didn’t stop there, she continued, "And that’s without counting the fact that we’re definitely going to comment on and criticize several scenes. If we pause to go to the bathroom, get something to eat, or argue about why a character just made a stupid decision or said something embarrassing, we could add another ten to fifteen minutes."

She paused briefly and added, "After that, you’d have to drive me back to the UCLA dorms and return here. So you could probably get to bed somewhere between twelve forty and twelve fifty."

Andrew watched her with a faint smile.

Paige blinked, "Did I talk too much?" she asked, realizing that she had turned a simple question into a complete scheduling analysis.

"No," Andrew replied, "I like that you calculated everything. This way we can decide better."

He thought for a second and added, "Two movies is fine. I’ll get about five hours of sleep, but one night isn’t going to do anything to me."

Paige tried to keep a calm expression. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and nodded, "Then it’ll be two."

Suddenly, a thought came to her, "Wait... do you have the movies?"

She seriously doubted Andrew owned the Twilight Blu-rays or DVDs of his own free will.

"No, but..." Andrew replied as he walked over to the cabinet beneath the enormous television and opened one of the compartments. After searching for a few seconds, he pulled out several Blu-ray cases.

"Sam left them here. She told Steve he had to watch them again before the last movie," Andrew commented as he moved the Twilight Blu-rays around.

Sam wanted Steve to have the entire plot fresh in his mind, remember every important detail, and arrive at the premiere perfectly prepared to appreciate the conclusion of the saga.

Paige couldn’t help smiling as she looked at the movies in Andrew’s hands, "Poor Steve... Although, in part, it’s his fault and yours for trying to turn Sam into someone knowledgeable about pop culture."

Andrew laughed, "The idea was for her to become a fan of Marvel, DC, Harry Potter... that kind of stuff. Not Twilight," he said.

He put on New Moon, but before starting, they made some popcorn in the microwave and grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge.

Once everything was ready, they turned off the living room lights and sat down on the couch, with the television as the only source of light.

Between them, they placed the bowl full of popcorn in a comfortable position so either of them could reach it easily.

Andrew picked up the remote control and pressed play.

The movie didn’t exactly start well.

In the first scene, Bella was with Edward under the sunlight. The vampire’s skin sparkled with that strange, cheap-looking effect that seemed more like glitter than anything supernatural.

In front of them was an elderly woman whom Bella was about to introduce to her boyfriend.

But the elderly woman was actually Bella herself.

An aged version of Bella, while Edward remained exactly as young as ever.

It all turned out to be a dream, or rather a nightmare, caused by Bella’s fear of continuing to grow older while her vampire boyfriend remained immortal.

Then she woke up.

Her father gave her a present, wished her a happy birthday, and it became clear that this was the reason behind everything: Bella was terrified because she had just turned another year older.

Later, in the school parking lot, she ran into Edward and reacted with obvious annoyance at any attempt to remind her of the date.

Paige frowned slightly, "Oh, my God... why is she so dramatic?" she murmured, unable to hold back.

"And the acting doesn’t help either," Andrew added, agreeing with her.

They were only five minutes into the movie.

Not long after, Jacob appeared, noticeably bigger than in the previous installment.

[Hello, biceps!] Bella said when she saw him. [You know steroids are bad for you.]

Jacob laughed, [I’m just filling out, Bella. It wouldn’t seem so drastic if we hung out more.]

Paige made a small grimace, "This attempt at a love triangle is pretty bad," she commented. "They have no chemistry, the dialogue is bad, and everything feels way too forced."

As for Jacob’s new appearance, she didn’t find it particularly impressive either.

After all, Andrew was sitting to her left.

He was eighteen years old, stood almost six and a half feet tall, and had a far more developed athletic physique than Jacob’s. He wasn’t just muscular, he also had the kind of body built through years of real training.

If that made Jacob look like he was using steroids, then Andrew must have looked like a laboratory experiment.

"Yeah, and what’s up with his hair?" Andrew asked, grimacing at Jacob’s excessively long hair.

"Let’s pray he goes to a barber in one of the movies," Paige said.

The movie kept moving forward, but the dialogue, performances, and plot didn’t seem to improve much.

At one point, Bella told Edward that she had nothing to offer him.

He replied, [You give me everything just by breathing.]

Paige let out a scoff.

Andrew glanced at her, amused, "Don’t be so critical. Remember, he’s one hundred and nine years old. It kind of makes sense that he’d be cheesy," he said.

Paige laughed softly, "You’re right. I should be more understanding."

Then she brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath.

The movie had only just started.

And although she didn’t like people who made comments every three minutes, all of this was making staying quiet much harder than expected.

The movie continued as the two of them ate popcorn and drank their sodas.

Every now and then, they made a brief comment.

Usually, neither one was positive.

Not because they had decided from the beginning that they were going to hate the movie, but because the problems were right there.

There were strange narrative decisions, unconvincing performances, fairly poor visual effects, and dialogue that seemed written to test the viewer’s patience.

One of the worst lines came from Jacob, [Bella, where the hell have you been, loca?]

Paige slowly turned her head toward Andrew.

He was already looking at her.

Neither of them said anything for a couple of seconds. Then they both looked away at the same time without commenting, it was better to ignore that line.

Eventually, the movie came to an end.

The credits appeared on the screen, and the living room fell silent.

Paige slowly shook her head, "I really thought it couldn’t get worse... but apparently it can," she said.

"Yeah..." Andrew murmured. "At least the first one was entertaining as an unintentional comedy. This one doesn’t even have that."

It was a slow movie with a depressed Bella and dialogue that made you cringe.

Andrew leaned back against the couch and watched the credits tiredly, "Also, shouldn’t they have a bigger budget? Because it really doesn’t look like it."

Paige grabbed her phone and did a quick search. Her eyes widened slightly when she read the result, "Fifty million dollars!?" she exclaimed.

Andrew turned toward her, "That was the budget?"

"Yeah. And it made more than seven hundred million," Paige replied, bringing her phone closer as if she couldn’t believe what she was reading.

"The producers must’ve kept half the money, because they clearly didn’t spend it on visual effects," she added as she set her phone aside.

"Yeah, and how the hell did it make more than seven hundred million?" Andrew asked.

There were amazing movies, genuine works of cinematic art, that hadn’t been anywhere near that commercially successful.

He found it difficult to believe that a story born from a writer’s romantic fantasies had ended up becoming a cultural phenomenon of such magnitude.

"People have no taste," Paige replied.

"Don’t let Sam hear you say that," Andrew said, looking at her with a faint smile.

"I don’t care. I’d tell her to her face," Paige said.

For several minutes, they continued criticizing some of the plot decisions.

Especially Bella.

She hadn’t exactly been a particularly likable protagonist in the first movie, but in that second installment she seemed designed to make the audience completely lose patience with her.

After Edward and the rest of the Cullens left town, Bella was left completely alone.

The explanation was that they couldn’t stay there much longer without people beginning to notice that none of them aged.

Edward also made it clear that she couldn’t go with them.

From that point on, Bella became depressed and began deliberately putting herself in dangerous situations because every time she took a risk, she hallucinated him.

"She has no identity of her own," Paige commented, "Her life only seems to have value if Edward is by her side. I officially declare myself an enemy of Bella Swan."

"Me too," Andrew replied, completely agreeing with her.

Then he got up from the couch and changed the disc.

A few minutes later, Eclipse began playing.

The third movie turned out to be more tolerable than the previous one.

It wasn’t particularly good, but at least it moved at a slightly faster pace and managed to keep their attention for longer periods of time. Because of that, the comments became less frequent.

At one point, Andrew reached a hand toward the bowl without taking his eyes off the screen.

There were only a few pieces of popcorn left at the bottom.

He was about to grab them when he felt a soft brush against his fingers.

He looked down and saw that Paige’s hand was also inside the bowl.

Her fingers, thinner and more delicate, rested lightly against his. A small ring glinted for an instant under the light of the television.

Paige felt the contact and quickly turned her head. When she saw that Andrew was also looking at their hands, she immediately pulled hers away.

"Hey, my hand isn’t radioactive," Andrew joked before the moment could become awkward.

Andrew looked at the few pieces of popcorn that remained, "I grant you the honor of eating the last ones," he said.

Paige smiled faintly, "Thank you," she replied and reached back into the bowl.

A while later, Andrew picked up his soda can and tried to drink.

He only managed to get a few drops out of it. He shook it lightly and confirmed that it was empty.

Paige noticed. She picked up her own can and held it out to him, "Here. There’s still a little left," she said. "I grant you the honor, and now we’re even."

Andrew accepted the can, "Thanks. I’ll remember that."

"I hope so. It was a great sacrifice," Paige said with exaggerated solemnity.

The movie continued.

At some point, without either of them being able to say exactly when, the distance between them began to shrink.

At first, the bowl of popcorn had served as a natural barrier in the middle of the couch. But once Andrew placed it on the coffee table, the space between them was left open.

Andrew leaned slightly toward Paige to make a comment without having to raise his voice.

Paige did the same a few minutes later.

Then they moved closer again.

Only for convenience.

That was what they both told themselves in their own minds.

It was more practical to whisper some comment about the movie than to speak over the sound of the television.

By the time the credits appeared on the screen, their shoulders were lightly brushing against each other.

Paige had taken off her shoes so she wouldn’t dirty the couch and was sitting with her legs folded on the seat. She turned her head toward Andrew, who was only a few inches away from her, "A little better than the last one, right?"

"Yeah," Andrew nodded, looking at her. "More entertaining. New Moon was boring and depressing."

Eclipse had more action, a somewhat faster pace, and less time devoted to showing Bella suffering while staring out a window.

That alone was already a point in its favor.

"But only good compared to the level of the other two," Paige clarified.

Just because it was better than a terrible movie didn’t mean it had suddenly become a good one.

"Edward and Jacob have more chemistry with each other than either of them does with Bella," Andrew joked.

Paige let out a laugh, "Definitely. And did you notice Bella’s wig? Couldn’t they get her one that didn’t look so stiff?"

Andrew smiled and nodded. Then he became thoughtful for a moment, "Don’t you think the real victim of this whole story is Charlie?"

Charlie was Bella’s father.

Paige thought about it for barely a second before nodding, "Poor man. He’s the only sane person in a ridiculous world."

She looked back toward the television.

"If I had a daughter like Bella, I wouldn’t have half the patience that good man has."

"They should give him an award or something," Andrew commented as he got up from the couch and turned on the living room lights.

The sudden brightness made both of them squint for a moment.

Seeing that Paige was still sitting there, Andrew returned to the couch and took the same spot as before.

Neither of them said anything, they had already said everything there was to say about the movies.

The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was strange enough that Paige felt the need to break it.

Her gaze dropped to the shirt Andrew was wearing, "Dallas Cowboys?" she asked. "Why are you wearing the jersey of a team from Texas? Isn’t that some kind of betrayal?"

She said the last word with clearly exaggerated seriousness.

Andrew looked down at his shirt and then back at her, "They’re America’s Team," he replied. "They have fans all over the country, and I’m one of them."

The nickname had originated in the late seventies and, over time, had become an inseparable part of the Cowboys’ identity.

Their games were among the most watched nationwide, and their fanbase extended far beyond Texas, reaching practically every state and a huge part of Mexico.

At the same time, they were one of the most loved and most hated teams in the NFL because of their success.

"Besides, Troy Aikman played for them in the nineties," Andrew continued. "Along with Emmitt Smith and Michael Irvin. The three of them dominated the league and won three Super Bowls in four years."

Paige raised an eyebrow, "And what does Troy Aikman have to do with it?"

She understood why Andrew was a Cowboys fan. Their reach was so broad that it wasn’t unusual to find fans of the team in California.

What she didn’t understand was what Troy Aikman had to do with it.

Andrew stared at her in silence for a few seconds, trying to decide whether she was serious.

When he saw that Paige was waiting for an answer, his expression changed, "Troy Aikman is a UCLA legend."

The way he said it made it clear that this should have been basic knowledge.

Paige adjusted herself more comfortably on the couch, "I’m not a football expert, tell me."

Andrew needed no further invitation.

He began telling her the story with immediate enthusiasm, while Paige listened with genuine interest, never taking her eyes off him.

Aikman had started his college career with the Oklahoma Sooners. However, after suffering an injury and realizing that the team’s offensive system didn’t favor a quarterback with an arm like his, he made the risky decision to transfer to UCLA in 1986.

His impact in Los Angeles was immediate.

As the starting quarterback during the 1987 and 1988 seasons, he led the Bruins to a record of twenty wins and only four losses.

In 1988, he was named an All-American, finished third in Heisman Trophy voting, and became the first UCLA player to win the Davey O’Brien Award, given to the best quarterback in the country.

He also led the team to major victories in the Aloha Bowl and the Cotton Bowl.

On top of that, he had been born in West Covina, within the Los Angeles metropolitan area.

For many local fans, Aikman wasn’t simply a star who had passed through UCLA.

He was one of their own.

A California player who had succeeded with the Bruins before reaching the top of the NFL.

"And everything he did at UCLA was what finally convinced Dallas to take him with the first overall pick in the 1989 Draft," Andrew explained. "Then came that dynasty with three Super Bowls and him as the starting quarterback."

"I see," Paige murmured, taking in the information.

Now it made much more sense.

The Dallas Cowboys had fans all across the country, but the connection with Troy Aikman explained why they also maintained an especially strong presence among certain UCLA supporters and people from the Los Angeles area.

For Andrew, however, there was another much more personal reason.

One that no one here knew about.

In his previous life, he had been born in Texas, and his grandfather Richard had been the one who passed down his love of football.

Many of the happiest memories he still had with him were tied to the Cowboys.

Sundays at the stadium.

The roar of the stands.

The excitement of walking among thousands of people dressed in the same colors.

And his grandfather telling him, over and over again, stories about the team’s golden eras.

Richard had lived through all of them as a passionate fan.

When Dallas won the Super Bowls for the 1971 and 1977 seasons, he had barely been entering his thirties. Later, he also witnessed the great dynasty of the nineties, when the Cowboys won the championships for the 1992, 1993, and 1995 seasons with Aikman at the helm.

He had followed every one of those seasons.

He had attended dozens of games and had even managed to be there for two Super Bowls.

Andrew had heard those stories so many times that he could almost remember them as if he had been there himself.

That was why he was still a Dallas fan.

He didn’t want to lose those memories.

He didn’t want to forget the excitement in his grandfather’s voice whenever he talked about head coach Tom Landry in the sixties through the eighties, Aikman, Smith, Irvin, or any of those great games.

Although, in his previous life, being a Cowboys fan hadn’t exactly been easy.

Dallas hadn’t returned to a Super Bowl since its last championship in the 1995-1996 season.

By 2024, the year he died, nearly three decades had passed since that victory without the team even making it back to the final game.

Andrew had grown up listening to stories about a dynasty, but he had been forced to live through an era full of early playoff exits, disappointing seasons, and promises that this year, finally, everything would be different.

In 2012, the situation wasn’t much better.

The Cowboys still shared second place historically with the San Francisco 49ers in Super Bowl-era titles, but they had gone seventeen years without returning to the big game.

Andrew had inherited the passion from the team’s greatest era and then had to suffer through everything that came afterward.

The worst part about being a fan now was that he already knew the future.

He knew that over the next twelve years Dallas wouldn’t win a single Super Bowl. They wouldn’t even reach a conference championship game.

That was why Andrew couldn’t even allow himself to get his hopes up too much.

While other fans could convince themselves that this would finally be the Cowboys’ year, he already knew how every attempt would end.

He remained lost in those memories for a few seconds before focusing on Paige again.

"You’re not from Los Angeles, are you?" he suddenly asked.

"Why do you think that?" Paige asked, frowning slightly.

"In Los Angeles, it’s not unusual to wear the jersey of an NFL team from another state. In fact, it’s the most common thing," Andrew replied.

And once again, he activated his football historian mode, explaining it to Paige in greater depth.

Los Angeles hadn’t had a team of its own since the Rams and Raiders left the city in 1994.

That meant that, for nearly twenty years, one of the largest cities in the country hadn’t had a single NFL franchise.

An entire generation had grown up without a local team to support.

Andrew, Steve, Reggie, and many other guys their age had chosen their teams based on personal preference, colors, favorite players, or even the influence of a family member.

The city had turned into a kind of open market, divided among several franchises from other states and a few teams from nearby regions of California.

It was normal to see someone wearing a Cowboys, Raiders, San Diego Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, or Pittsburgh Steelers jersey.

No one found it strange.

Los Angeles lacked a unified NFL identity, unlike other cities where wearing a rival team’s jersey could be considered outright betrayal.

In Andrew’s case, besides Dallas, the teams he liked the most were the Raiders and the 49ers.

In this life, his grandfather and his parents had taken him a few times to watch them play in their respective stadiums. They had been great experiences, but they were also infrequent trips.

Getting to Oakland or San Francisco required several hours on the road or traveling by plane.

It wasn’t the same as living close to your team’s stadium, waking up on a Sunday, and knowing that just a few hours later you would be sitting in your usual seat among thousands of fans.

Andrew missed that feeling. The excitement of repeating the same ritual week after week.

In Los Angeles, he could still enjoy football, but he didn’t have that everyday connection with any professional team.

"Oh... that makes sense," Paige murmured when Andrew finished his explanation.

Now she understood the difference better.

In San Francisco, for example, it really would be strange for someone born and raised there to walk around the city wearing another team’s jersey.

The 49ers had a deeply rooted sports identity, enormous regional pride, and a history filled with success.

And if the jersey in question belonged to the Dallas Cowboys, it could be interpreted as a direct provocation.

The two franchises had played some of the most important games of the eighties and nineties. For many fans, that rivalry was still very much alive.

In Andrew’s case, the situation was a little strange.

He liked the 49ers. He had attended their games with Jay, shared good memories with his family, and learned to admire several of their legends.

He was also fond of the Raiders.

But the Cowboys were the team he carried in his heart.

He could enjoy watching San Francisco, be happy about some of their victories, and even consider himself a supporter.

But only Dallas could truly make him suffer.

Only a close Cowboys victory could leave him in a good mood for several days, at least until the next game arrived and they found a new way to disappoint him.

And that was while knowing that the team wouldn’t reach a Super Bowl over the next ten years.

For Andrew, that was probably the clearest proof that someone was a true fan.

"So, where are you from?" he asked. "San Francisco, Oakland, San Diego?"

He said the options as though he were genuinely trying to guess.

Although, in reality, he already knew the answer.

What would have been strange was saying it directly.

The subject had come up naturally, and Andrew was curious to see whether Paige would admit that she came from Texas.

In all the weeks they had known each other, ever since that game against Oregon State, they had never talked about where she was from. During the group’s gatherings, the topic had simply never come up.

Through Steve, he knew that Sam had grown up on the outskirts of Los Angeles.

Paige, on the other hand, was someone no one seemed to know very much about.

She remained silent for a few seconds before answering.

"None of them. I’m not even from California. I’m from Texas."

"Texas?" Andrew repeated, trying to sound surprised. "That’s pretty far away... Really? You don’t have an accent."

"I just don’t use it," Paige replied.

This time, however, she stopped neutralizing it.

The change wasn’t exaggerated, but it was noticeable.

Her vowels became slightly longer, and the way she spoke took on a Southern musicality that hadn’t been there before.

Andrew raised his eyebrows.

There it was.

She didn’t sound like a Texas caricature, nor did she have an especially strong accent. Even when she used it, the way she spoke remained fairly clear and neutral.

It had probably always been that way.

Her education, her precise way of expressing herself, and the academic environments she had moved through had softened the accent for years. Since arriving in California, she had simply finished neutralizing it.

"Why were you hiding it?" Andrew asked, curious.

"I wasn’t hiding it," Paige replied. "When I moved here, I wanted to fit in, so I started paying more attention to how people spoke."

She shrugged slightly and added, "I practiced a more neutral pronunciation, and it eventually became a habit. Now I do it without even realizing it."

"I see," Andrew said, then asked, "And does Sam know you’re from Texas? I don’t think anyone in the group would expect you to be Texan."

It would probably surprise them.

Not because Texas was a strange or particularly exotic place, but because nothing about Paige made them immediately think of that state.

"Surprisingly, Sam never asked me exactly where I’m from," Paige replied as she mentally went over some of their conversations.

"She asked me about my family, whether I missed them, whether I talked to them, or if I planned on visiting them. But she never said something like, ’What state are you from?’"

"And since you didn’t have an accent..." Andrew commented.

"She probably assumed I was from California," Paige finished. "Or she simply never stopped to think about it."

Then she fell silent for a few seconds. She lowered her gaze toward one of the couch cushions, thoughtful, before looking at him again.

"Do you think I should tell Sam? And the others?" Paige asked.

Andrew noticed a certain concern in her voice.

Paige didn’t think they would get very upset, but the more time passed without mentioning it, the more it could start to feel as though she really had been hiding it.

"Yeah, I guess you should tell them," Andrew replied, "But you don’t have to worry that much either. They’re not going to be bothered by something like that."

Paige continued watching him.

"With Sam, you can just mention it," Andrew added. "She’s the person you’ve spent the most time with since you arrived in Los Angeles. If you wait for the subject to come up naturally, it might never happen. Knowing her, she won’t get mad."

Paige nodded.

"And with Steve, Leonard, and the others, we can make it a little more fun," Andrew commented, bringing a hand to his chin.

Paige raised an eyebrow slightly, "How?"

"We can put on a little performance. You talk like you normally do and, at some point, suddenly switch to your Texas accent. I’ll pretend I’ve known for months and let them try to figure out what’s going on," Andrew replied with a faint smile.

Paige imagined Howard and Steve’s expressions for a moment, "That could be fun..." she admitted, a little more relaxed.

The idea of telling everyone no longer seemed so complicated.

She didn’t want something so small to end up creating unnecessary distance between her and the friendships she had started to value so much.

After all, they were the first real friendships she had had in a long time.

Well, there had been one other person she had once considered a true friend.

But only one.

"Thank you," Paige said softly.

She looked at Andrew with a genuinely grateful expression, not only for the advice, but also because he had offered to help her tell the others.

"I am a wise counselor in matters of friendship," Andrew said in an old man’s voice. "I’ve had many, and I still have several."

"I can imagine. Friends with celebrities, popular at every school you went to..." Paige replied with slight sarcasm. "You must have a tremendous amount of experience."

"I do..." Andrew said.

Then he dropped the solemn expression and looked at her more seriously.

"Do you miss Texas?"

Paige blinked at the change of subject.

"It’s your first Halloween away from home," Andrew explained where the question had come from.

Paige lowered her gaze for a few seconds, "Not especially my parents," she finally replied. "It’s complicated."

Andrew didn’t press.

"But I do have some pretty fun uncles and a cousin I used to spend a lot of time with," Paige continued. "And there was another family I was very close to when I was a kid. So I guess I miss some things."

"But I had a good time tonight," Paige added, looking at him again.

"Even with the prank and the family drama?" Andrew asked.

"That was one of the best parts of the night," Paige replied with a smile as she remembered the prank, then all the commotion caused by Gloria, Phil, Cameron, and the others trying to stop the increasingly harsh pranks between Claire and Andrew.

"Actually, I think it was the best Halloween I’ve ever had," she added.

"That doesn’t say much for your previous Halloweens," Andrew said, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Probably not," Paige said with a sigh, shaking her head, "But today was fun, and so is this, watching two movies with you that would’ve made me want to gouge my eyes out in any other context."

Andrew remained silent.

From her tone, it was obvious that Paige wasn’t being sarcastic. She meant it.

"I had a good time too," Andrew replied. "Although I don’t know if admitting that I enjoyed four hours of Twilight is good for my reputation."

"I guess watching it with you is what made it fun," he added without thinking.

The words came out before he could analyze them too much.

After all, he couldn’t find any other logical explanation. If he had watched those movies alone, he probably would’ve quit before even finishing the first one.

Paige watched him for a moment. Then an amused smile appeared on her lips, "Oh..." she said, drawing out the word. "Did Edward Cullen manage to infect you with his cheesiness?"

Andrew blinked. Only then did he realize how that had sounded, "I meant it from a logical point of view. I wouldn’t have been able to finish even one movie by myself," Andrew justified himself.

"Then..." Paige tilted her head slightly. "If Howard had been sitting in my place, would you have had fun too?"

Andrew fell silent, "Just shut up," he muttered, grabbing one of the couch cushions and tossing it at her without much force.

Paige laughed and caught it against her chest, "I enjoyed them too because I watched them with you," she admitted. "Being able to criticize them together made them bearable."

After that, silence settled between them again.

Only this time, it felt different.

Neither of them looked away.

They were still sitting face to face, separated by only a few inches. Close enough for Andrew to notice every small change in Paige’s expression.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.

Andrew’s gaze dropped almost unconsciously to Paige’s lips.

She noticed the movement, and her eyes did the same.

The silence seemed to grow heavier.

Then came the sound of a key entering the lock.

The apartment door opened.

"We finally made it! Damn traffic," Steve’s voice came from the entrance.

"I told you we should’ve come back earlier. You’re barely going to sleep," Sam added worriedly.

Andrew and Paige turned their heads at the same time.

Steve and Sam walked in, still wearing their costumes and talking to each other, until they noticed the two people sitting on the couch.

Both of them stopped.

Andrew then looked at the clock on the wall.

It was already past one in the morning.

Time had passed much faster than it had felt while he was talking with Paige.

Then he looked back at Steve and Sam.

Both of them were still standing there motionless, watching them with a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if that were the last scene they had expected to find when they got back.

Andrew glanced sideways at the small distance still separating him from Paige, ’This is going to be complicated to explain,’ he thought.

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