If You Told Me To

Harry was leaving in three hours. Just three. Sarah’s stomach felt like it was turning in on itself, twisting, writhing in pain. She either wanted to vomit or die, but she wasn’t sure which. Maybe it was both.

The night before, they’d stared at the sky, Harry showing off his ridiculous knowledge of constellations, until four in the morning, when he had admitted that he was going to fall asleep in the grass if he didn’t get back to Antonia’s. The two had talked and laughed and cried and kissed, everything they’d done all summer wrapped up into a single night. Sarah wanted to preserve the moment forever, but it ended, just like everything, and she would have to settle for keeping the memories.

After getting let into Antonia’s house, who smiled at her and acted like nothing was wrong, Sarah ventured down the hallway to Harry’s room. He was lying on his bed, shirtless, staring at the ceiling with his arms folded across his stomach.

Sarah opened her mouth, wondering if he had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard her enter, but then he said, “I don’t want to go, Sarah.”

She swallowed her emotions and crawled into the bed next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and bringing her hand up to lay it on his chest. Like he didn’t have to think about it, he immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and planting a kiss against the top of her head.

“I don’t want you to go either,” she admitted in a whisper, afraid her voice would crack if she made it any louder. “I wish you could stay here forever. But you said it yourself: going back to New York is hard, but leaving New York could be harder.”

He sighed. “I wonder if I was wrong. It’s not like that’s never happened before.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Then, before they could continue with the depressing conversation, she asked, “You’re finished packing, right?”

“Yeah.” His word was breathy, stirring the hairs at the top of her head. Something about it made her jaw clench as she fought to keep her composure. “My suitcase is out in the living room. I didn’t want to look at it.”

Sarah decided she didn’t much want to look at it either. “You know, this may sound mean, but I kind of wish you’d stayed unlikeable.”

Despite her warning, Harry seemed to find the statement funny, his torso bouncing up and down as he chuckled. “Me, too. That fucking snake had to go ruin how much I disliked you.”

Suddenly, she remembered something. “Oh, I never showed you how well I can shoot a gun. I meant to show off.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Harry laughed. “I hate guns, anyway. They’re so unnecessary.”

Sarah didn’t agree completely, but she wasn’t about to ruin some of the last moments they had together arguing about gun rights in the country. “Are you excited about going back to school?”

Harry snorted. “Not at all. I hate going to that place. I’m excited to see my friends, and I have my favorite teacher for history again, but other than that, I would do anything in the world to keep from going back there.”

“You could drop out,” Sarah teased. “That’d get you far in life.”

“I could live down here and be a farmer,” he replied, going along with the joke. “And you could drop out and be my farmer wife.” Sarah felt her heart rate pick up at the idea of marrying Harry, but he continued his fantasy without noticing. “We could have a pig pen and a couple of cows, and we could grow corn, since this country does basically everything with corn.”

Sarah giggled, tilting her head back so she could look up at him. “Sounds wonderful. Too bad it could never happen.”

He hummed in agreement, bending his arm so he could rest his hand on her shoulder, which was mostly bare if one ignored the tank top strap, and run his nails along the skin gently.

Goosebumps popped up all over her body, and she just barely suppressed a shiver. She felt another kiss at the top of her head, and she closed her eyes, relishing the moment.

“Hey, Sarah.” Harry’s voice was a whisper again, which made her nervous, thinking that he might not want Antonia to overhear whatever he was about to say next.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to tell you one more secret before I go, okay? And I hope you don’t take it the wrong way.”

Her stomach started knotting again, more fiercely this time, her mind running through all the possible things that could come out of his mouth next, all of them terrible. “Is it going to be mean?” she blurted, making her face burn bright red against his already warm skin.

He laughed and ran his hand down her upper arm. “No. Well, not mean to you, anyway.” There was a short pause, maybe for Sarah to object his telling her, but she kept silent. “Whenever I lose my virginity, with whoever the girl is… I’m going to wish for the rest of my life that my first time was with you.”

That was the final straw. The emotions that Sarah had been struggling to keep hidden bubbled over, and a few tears flowed down her face, landing on his chest. “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he pleaded. His arm tightened significantly around her, rubbing her arm with his thumb. “Didn’t we agree that we weren’t going to push for anything? And, um, we already kind of went farther than I thought we would.”

Because she’d pushed herself. She knew she had. She felt like her time was running out with him, and she wanted to do something to be memorable. She’d already broken that rule. But he couldn’t know. So she just sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I guess. And I’m going to wish forever that you’d come here a little later so I would have been ready to have sex with you. I wish that my first time could be with you, too.”

Her father had told her that Harry’s leaving would seem of dire importance at the time, but it would soon fade into a minor, fond memory. And although Sarah usually highly valued her father’s opinion, for once, lying there with Harry, the two of them fighting back tears, she wasn’t so sure he was right.

He cleared his throat, probably to get rid of the emotion welling up from deep down, and pulled her up against him so he could kiss her easily. It was a little short for Sarah’s taste, but it was sweet, and she figured Harry was thinking about the possibility of her misunderstanding his intent. She had to appreciate how much he cared.

“Do you remember,” she said softly, their faces mere inches apart, “when you asked me if I had any friends?”

He knitted his eyebrows together, but he nodded anyway.

“You’re my friend. You’re my best friend.” He was quiet, so she just blushed and said, “I thought you should know that before you go back.”

His eyes were fixed on a point beyond her head, and she started to regret what she said. And then, suddenly, he sniffled violently, as if he’d been holding it in, and took his free hand, covering his eyes. “Goddammit, Sarah. Why did you have to make me cry?”

“I’m sorry!” She cupped his face in her hand, wiping a small tear off his cheek with her thumb. “I didn’t mean to. I just…um. I don’t know why I said that.”

“That’s probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,” he admitted, putting his hand back beside him, but keeping his eyes closed. “So thank you. I wish I could be even a fraction of how nice you are.”

“I like the way you are.” She pressed a kiss on his cheek and sighed. I love you, she wanted to say, but she didn’t.

And she also didn’t say it when she was giving him the world’s tightest hug later, when he was finally fully clothed, standing outside Antonia’s car. The older woman was waiting inside the vehicle patiently, letting the motor run, while the two teenagers struggled to let go of each other.

As Harry finally pulled away, he kissed Sarah’s cheek twice, and then he smiled at her, that beautiful, heartbreaking smile that made her get a crush on him in the first place. “I guess this is it then,” he told her. “Maybe I’ll see you again someday.”

“I hope so,” she replied. “Good luck with your sophomore year.”

“Same with you starting high school.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but instead, he swallowed and climbed into the car.

It pulled out of the driveway slowly, and then onto the street, and then it was gone. Harry didn’t look at her again.