If You Told Me To

A couple of days later, they felt a little better. After they both cried their fills, they agreed that they weren’t going to be sad about the impending separation, but rather have fun while they still could. So they spent the rest of their time playing silly games of Truth, reminiscing about things that had happened throughout the summer, and hoping that Antonia was making cupcakes to see her great nephew off.

“Have you ever had her brownie batter cupcakes?” Harry questioned, continuing the conversation that had been going on for about ten minutes.

Sarah shook her head. “How does that even work?”

“Um, they’re, like, chocolate cupcakes fully-baked, and then she puts brownie batter in the middle like it’s a cream or something, and then it has vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles on the top. When she visited Mom and me a couple years ago, she brought them, and they were probably the greatest things I’ve ever put in my mouth. Like, ever.”

Sarah laughed, but she thought the cupcakes sounded downright heavenly. Her stomach audibly agreed, making her laugh out loud with embarrassment. “I hope she makes them, too. If you ask, she’ll probably do it for you. She’s probably going to miss you more than you think she will.”

“I think you’re overestimating it,” he replied. “I’ve barely seen her, after all. I’m just around her when your dad comes home from work and you go inside to spend time with him. She’s almost like default company when I can’t be with you.”

“That can’t be how you actually think about her,” Sarah accused. After all, she’d never think about her father as default company. She loved being around her father, especially when he didn’t have his mind on work or anything responsibility-oriented and could take the time to watch television with her and tell her stories about his childhood and tell her that he loved her. She couldn’t imagine wanting nothing more than to escape her dad, like she knew some teenagers felt.

“No, not necessarily. I mean, I like the relationship we have. I can be snarky and sarcastic with her, and she throws it right back. It’s fun. But I’d still prefer being with you any day of the week.”

She flushed, flattered. “That’s very sweet of you, Harry. But she will still miss you. She’s been living alone for a really long time, and I’m sure she loved having someone around the house all the time to talk to, whether you were snarky or not. I can’t imagine how sad she feels.”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

It got quiet. Sarah didn’t really like the moments of silence that settled between them. They reminded her that they only had five days left, and they were wasting precious seconds sitting in the quiet, not communicating or anything.

And when it was really quiet, she was so tempted to say the couple of words that had been forbidden by the rules they set up at the beginning of the summer. Though she couldn’t be sure that she was in love with him, since she’d never been in it before, exactly, her gut told her she was every time she wasn’t actively thinking about something else. But if she said anything, she would ruin everything they had, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry seemed to be just as frustrated with the silence as she was, sighing and putting his hand on her leg. The skin underneath the touch immediately set on fire, but she worked to keep her breathing steady so he wouldn’t laugh at her. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Neither do I. Because I’m too concerned about the fact that someone has invented brownie batter cupcakes and didn’t tell me.”

Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “Alright, I’ll tell Antonia about the cupcake thing. Hopefully, she’ll make them, even if it’s just for you.”

“Thank you.” Sarah laughed before leaning up and connecting her lips to Harry’s quickly. She pulled away soon after, but Harry clearly had a different idea, cupping his hand on the back of her neck and capturing her mouth against his.

She was a little surprised, but she went with it anyway. She knew she had a severely limited time to kiss Harry, and she would take any chance she could get. And she could feel the desperation in the kiss, how he was trying to communicate how much he’d miss her without using words that would make them both dissolve into puddles of sadness again.

But after her surprise and confusion faded, she was just wrapped up in the feel of him, the way his fingers felt against her neck, how soft his lips were, how he sighed ever so slightly after capturing her bottom lip between his teeth for just a second.

Sarah felt a shiver go up her spine, her body betraying her by refusing to be the least bit subtle about it, and he smiled against her mouth. As retaliation, Sarah snaked her hand up the back of his neck and pressed his face closer to hers, tangling his hair in her hand and tugging lightly, thinking he was going to whimper and pull away from her to pout. But, to her surprise, Harry actually let out a small groan against her mouth and kissed her twice as hard.

She felt her face warm at the sound, and her hands suddenly turned shaky. It felt like the floor was shifting underneath them, tearing itself out from underneath her, and she knew they’d stepped up from just kissing to making out. Every time they’d kissed before, they just kissed, and it was like there was a solid line drawn in the sand that they refused to cross. But between Harry teasing with his teeth and her tugging his hair, and especially the noise that just came out of Harry's throat, it was obvious that they’d moved up to a different step without realizing it.

Harry seemed to notice it at the same time as she did, but instead of wondering about stopping, he laid her down on the dusty ground and brought his hands down her neck and down her body, finally putting them up her shirt, rubbing the sensitive and suddenly hot skin of her stomach and waist.

“Is this okay?” he whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”

But she wasn’t uncomfortable. Not really. She just couldn’t figure out if she was ready to take this whole thing to the next step with Harry, especially knowing that he was going back to New York in a couple of days.

Just then, the thoughts of the other day came back to hit her, much more powerful the second time than they were the first time. This was one of the last times that she was ever going to be able to be close to Harry. Once he hit the road back to New York, their relationship was over, and he was going to search for a rebound that could give him what he really wanted: a lost virginity.

Maybe it was just jealousy that welled up from deep in her stomach, but it was motivating. So, taking a breath, she gestured for Harry to get off her.

“Sorry,” he rushed, flushing brighter red than she’d ever seen him blush. “I didn’t mean to… ugh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away.”

“Harry,” she broke in. “Shut up.”

It was the rudest thing she’d said in a while, but Harry probably didn’t take much notice to it, considering she was peeling off her shirt and depositing it on the floor next to them. She knew she was wearing one of her nicer bras, a purple one with a bit of lace around the bottom, and she was sure that it was probably one of the motivating factors in her final decision.

“Sarah,” Harry breathed, suddenly unable to look her in the face. “We don’t have to do this. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do anything.”

She gave him a small smile before climbing over him, straddling his hips, and pressing a solid kiss against his mouth. “It’s okay,” she told him, brushing a stray, slightly damp curl off his forehead. “But this is as far as I go.”

He looked down at her chest and let out a loud breath. Sarah could feel the blood pumping hard through his whole body, and she wanted to squeal that, finally, she was able to make him feel the way she did every time he so much as touched him.

They kissed again, Harry letting his fingers trail up her spine slowly, taking in the feel of her soft skin, but, all too soon, he pulled away. “Do you, um, want me to…?”

Sarah shook her head before putting her own hands up his shirt, feeling the faint cording of muscles on his stomach, chest, and arms. “I can take care of it,” she whispered against his neck. And although her hands were shaking, she managed to get his t-shirt over his head, planting a kiss right over his heart.