If You Told Me To

Four years passed. Sarah sat outside in her barn, her brand new sketchbook on her lap, staring off into the backyard, into the trees that blocked her path from her house to the lake. For a second, she wondered if she should change into her bathing suit and head over there, considering how hot it was, but the overhead clouds looked ominous, so she stayed put instead.

She was not in tune with the muses, unfortunately, so all of her attempts to draw ended up scribbled doodles in the margins. She wanted desperately to put her recently-acquired shading techniques to good work, to create something for her father to hang in the living room when she went off to college, but her mind was being incredibly cruel. At least she had the rest of the summer to brainstorm new ideas.

Suddenly, she found her sketchbook shrouded in shadow, so she brought up her gaze inquisitively. She knew it couldn’t be her father, since he was long at work, but maybe Antonia needed help with something?

But it wasn’t Antonia. “Hi, Sarah.”

The blonde teenager got to her feet, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with surprise. “Harry? Oh my God, what are you doing here?” She was almost surprised she recognized him after four years, since he hadn’t been back, not even once. Antonia said he was spending his time in writing and baseball camps, but the first summer without him hadn’t been easy, not for a second.

“I don’t get a hug before I get interrogated?” Harry laughed, arms outstretched, taking a step toward her.

She felt a little uncomfortable, but she closed to gap between them and wrapped her arms around him. He’d grown a few more inches and filled out since that summer when they were inseparable, making her feel almost like a dwarf standing next to him. But he smelled just the same, a mixture of things that she could never really distinguish from one another that came together to make him.

“I’m here because I heard you graduated from high school. With honors, no less. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” she responded, blushing again. “Did you want to sit? We could catch up. Unless, um, Antonia needs you or something?”

“No, she’s alright,” he insisted, planting his butt on the barn floor like old times, Sarah quickly settling down next to him. “She’s the one who begged me to come over here and talk to you, since I chickened out yesterday. Although she didn’t mention how gorgeous you grew up to be.”

Sarah flushed violently, choosing to ignore the more flattering part of the statement. “Yesterday?”

“You’re not nearly as nosy as you used to be, are you?”

She flushed again, remembering the scrape of her calf falling through the rickety milk crate, and laughed. “I guess not. So how’s college?”

“It’s good. It wasn’t easy at first, adjusting to an entirely new school, not knowing anybody, living away from home. But it did get better eventually, and everything sort of fell into a routine. Are you excited to start school?”

She nodded. “I’m not going too far away, and a couple of my best friends are going to the same place, so I’m excited to see how everything goes. And I’m majoring in graphic design, so I can’t wait to take some of my classes.”

“Sociology,” he countered, and it took Sarah a second to realize that he was stating his own major. “But that sounds cool. You’ll be really good at it.”

“Thanks.” She grinned at him shortly, trying not to stare. Time had been more than kind to Harry Styles. He’d grown into his hands and feet, which she hadn’t realized had been disproportionate to his body, his face slimmed down to create sharper angles, and in his skinny jeans, gray t-shirt, and brown boots, he looked more stylish than she remembered. But his eyes were the same beautiful color she'd thought about far too many times throughout her freshman year.

There was a short silence between them before Harry spoke again, his voice so low that Sarah wondered if he were hurt, “You never answered my letter.”

“I didn’t.” She swallowed back her emotion, remembering how she felt, taking the envelope out of the mailbox, opening it, and seeing the words she never thought she’d ever hear from a boy. “We promised that the relationship was over when the summer was over. I didn’t want to try to make something work that was going to be pointless anyway. It would have made us both miserable.”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his curls, which were longer than they used to be. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m not angry at you. I just thought I deserved some kind of an answer, even if it was you telling me that you were done with us.”

“I wasn’t done with us. But I knew that I would only be hurting you if I continued the cycle. I was doing what I thought was the mature thing, Harry. Being in a long-distance relationship as young teenagers is a stupid thing to do. It didn’t matter how much I loved you.”

There was a short pause. “So you did love me.”

It wasn’t a question, but Sarah still felt the need to respond. “Yeah, I loved you, in the most passionate way a fourteen-year-old girl can love someone. I figured you knew without me having to tell you.”

“I guess I kind of did. It just stung that I never got to hear it from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Harry shook his head and smiled again. “Don’t worry about it. It was years ago. So tell me how you’ve been? I’m sure you turned into quite the maneater in high school, right?”

Sarah laughed, thankful for the subject change, and shook her head. “I wouldn’t call me a maneater, Harry. I had a couple of boyfriends, but, you know, they were high school boyfriends.”

“So nothing, um…” Harry’s eyes finally wandered from Sarah’s face, taking place on the wall, “too serious then?”

She felt her face burn with heat, but she answered with a confidence she’d acquired since he moved back to New York. “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking me. I lost it in October this past year.”

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought she saw Harry’s shoulders sink forward ever so slightly in disappointment. “Ah, I probably should have expected that.”

Since he had no embarrassment about asking her about her virginity status, she had no issues asking about his. “What about you? When did you lose your virginity?”

“The summer between my sophomore and junior year,” he admitted, his face flushing deeper than before. “I was kind of hoping you’d send me a letter back, so I didn’t want to risk getting involved with someone else without knowing where things between us stood.”

Sarah was suddenly struck with a wave of guilt for leaving him hanging. She sighed and gave him a small, sad smile. “I’m really sorry, Harry. That was really mean.”

“Yeah, well, I found out eventually when Aunt Antonia told me about the new boy you were bringing home to introduce to her and your dad.”

The guilt settled solidly in her stomach, making her feel sick. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I guess I didn’t realize how everything else would affect you. I shouldn’t have done that. I was young and stupid, and the last thing I ever want to do in the world is hurt you.”

“I was young and stupid, too,” Harry laughed. “It’s not like I couldn’t have called you to get everything straightened out. I was just nervous that you’d hang up, I guess. But I didn’t come here to make you regret not talking to me for the past four years.”

“Didn’t you?” Sarah tried to make the words seem like a joke, but they fell flat.

“No. I really did want to catch up. So that guy from October…?”

She shrugged. “We dated for about a year and a half, but we broke up just before graduation. He’s going to school in California, and I didn’t want to, um…” She cut her statement short, turning red hot with humiliation when she thought about the ending to her statement. As much as she wanted to believe she’d changed from the summer when she and Harry were attached at the hip, she really hadn’t transformed much at all.

“Keep up a long-distance relationship?” Harry laughed. “Mmm, I can understand that.”

“What about your girl?” Sarah questioned, desperate to change the subject. “What happened to her?”

“She was a one-night stand,” he admitted. “I don’t even know her last name, as douchey as that makes me sound.” Sarah cringed as subtly as she could, but Harry noticed, letting out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I know. You don’t have to say it. But I did get a girlfriend soon after, so I guess it all works out.”

“Are you still with her? Or do you have a new girlfriend in college?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I didn’t want to get too attached to anyone because I transferred to a school here.”

Sarah let his words settle in, feeling a tingling in her fingers as she realized what that meant. Harry Styles, the boy she fell in love with when she was fourteen years old, was coming back to the South for good. He wouldn’t leave her again. The idea made her mind race with every possibility, all revolving around the spark of electricity and thinly-restrained attraction flowing between the two of them that she’d refused to allow herself to acknowledge before.

They had a second chance.

If he wanted one, that was.

“So you’re not here to congratulate me on graduating high school,” she responded knowingly, raising one of her eyebrows in accusation. “You’re here because you’re coming to school here.”

“Right. I wanted to get familiar with the area before I started calling it my home.” He paused before grinning widely at her, a shadow of a blush blooming across his cheekbones. “And maybe I was a little curious what you look like now.”

Maybe she should have been offended at him objectifying her. Why should it have mattered how she grew up? It wasn’t like they were together, so he had no claim on her, whether she’d grown up beautiful or not.

But in the moment, looking at how much he’d grown and changed, yet still maintaining the eyes she could never completely wipe from her thoughts, she couldn’t bring herself to care. After all, hadn’t she imagined a thousand times what he looked like, grown from a boy into a man? And so, almost feeling fourteen again, she closed the distance between them and caught his lips against hers.

Unlike when they were younger, Harry didn’t hesitate before lying her down on the dusty floor and tangling his large hands in her hair. And, in turn, Sarah didn’t hesitate before slipping her hands up his shirt and running her fingers gently up the perfectly-toned muscles on his back.

She could almost feel the first rule on their long-abandoned list shattering around them and couldn’t help smiling against Harry’s lips. He never was much good at following the rules.

Just as her father had said, Harry wasn’t a country boy. But, in some ways, he was a thousand times better.