The Other Side

Chapter 11

"Have fun," I wave to my parents as they drive off for their monthly 'date night'. I settle myself in the study, putting some music on softly and placing all of my school books around me in an organised fashion. First up - maths, my favourite thing. I'm going over Index Laws when I hear a noise at my back door. I freeze, thinking there is no other explanation other than murderer. I creep out of the study, trying to stay hidden against the walls.

"What are you doing?" a voice says, and I scream and jump.

"Harry?" I ask, rushing over and turning the outside light on. "What are you doing here?" I unlock the door and Harry waltzes in. "You're supposed to be out with your sister and parents."

"Yeah, that sounded way too boring. And then you said you were gonna study and I decided that was boring too. So then I thought I'd save us both from a boring night and stick around." Harry looks around the living area.

"Why, come on in," I say sarcastically as he begins wandering through the room.

"I've never seen inside your place before." Harry stops and stares at the pictures of me as a kid. He points and giggles, looking at me. But he stops when I glare at him.

"Maybe that's because we've only been on speaking terms for a total of maybe three days and I haven't invited you over," I point out.

"Where's your room?" Harry asks, ignoring me.

My eyes go wide, and I give him a look that says 'don't even think about it'.

"Hey, I've shown you mine, you show me yours," Harry snickers, his green eyes twinkling.

"I'm not sure that's how it works," I try to argue, but Harry's already making his way through my house, so I decide to just do it so that he doesn't go sticking his nose everywhere. "Here," I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him to my room.

Harry looks at it, nodding, looking deep in thought. "I thought there'd be posters of me everywhere."

I exhale and roll my eyes. "You wish."

Harry looks over the books on my shelves, the CDs stacked neatly beside my stereo, the few pictures I have up. "Boyfriend?" Harry asks, pointing to a picture of Sam and I.

"Yes, the boyfriend I've failed to mention," I say sarcastically. "Best friend," I explain. "Sam."

He stops and runs his hands over the four ornament letters I have on my dresser - H, O, P and E. They're only new additions.

"They remind me never to lose hope," I explain, though his back is still to me. "That there'll always be something better, even when it feels like there isn't."

"It's a good thing to remember," Harry says, picking up the H and looking at it intently before placing it back in its spot.

Just then, Harry turns and gives me the cheekiest grin I've ever seen as he reaches for the top drawer of my dresser.

"What are you doing?" I screech. He obviously knows that's the underwear drawer.

"Just trying to get to know you better," Harry grins, but he doesn't open it.

"I hate you," I say.

"No you don't," Harry replies cockily, flopping onto my bed. "Comfy." He wiggles around and then props himself up on his elbow.

I roll my eyes again. In fact I think I roll them so much in front of him, eventually it will just be a nervous tic I get when around him. "Did you actually come over here for anything particular? Or just to rummage through my room and annoy me?"

Harry's mouth pops open. "I'm annoying?" He clutches his heart. "That hurts. But I actually did come over to save you from boredom, remember?"

"Right, so when does the saving start?" I tease.

"Dinner and movies at mine, right now," Harry states.

"I need to study," I counter, folding my arms.

"Yes, but do you want to study?" Harry asks. "Don't you want to come and eat dinner and watch a movie with me?"

"I want you to be less annoying and to get off my bed!" I whine.

"I will if you come hang with me. Otherwise I'll just have to stay here and defeat boredom at your place." Harry puts his hands behind his head and stares at my ceiling.

I exhale loudly. "Let's go," I say, finally caving. As much as I made it drag on, I really would prefer to hang out with Harry than study. I mean, I'm not bragging, but I'm pretty smart. I don't really need to study.

Harry and I jump over the fence and head into his place. His house smells of something delicious, but I can't quite place it.

"I made tacos," Harry says with a grin. "They're my favourite."

"I hate tacos," I say seriously, and the look on Harry's face is priceless. It's like I'm an alien to him or something. I break into a huge grin. "I'm kidding!"

"Don't ever joke about tacos again," Harry says seriously, serving up the food.

I'm surprised at Harry's ability to cook, as the tacos are awesome. His taste in movies however, not so great. He picks a romantic comedy.

"This movie is awful!" I exaggerate.

"I thought girls liked romantic movies, hence why I picked it," Harry says defensively.

"Don't even try and blame this on me. You're liking it!" I accuse. "Goes to show how much you don't know me." I poke my tongue at him.

"Well maybe you should have let me go through your panty drawer!" he teases.

My mouth pops open, and I whack him playfully. But the look he gives me makes me think it wasn't a good idea.

"Oh it's on!" he cries, and I jump up with him hot on my heels.

I scream, racing through his house. It's a maze downstairs, and when I seem cornered I race up the stairs and into the first room I can. Of course it has to be Harry's room.

"Hey, you cleaned up," I say, a little out of breath.

"Don't try and change the subject," Harry says, slowly creeping towards me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for hitting you. Please please please be nice!" I cry, but Harry grabs me and tackles me onto his bed.

"Got you now," Harry teases, pinning me there. "Now apologise for being mean."

"Never!" I cried, and with a few movements I flip him over so I'm now straddling him. I hold his arms firmly above his head, and twist my legs with his so he can't escape. "Now who's got whom?"

Harry stares up at me, his green eyes sparkling in the dim light of his room. "I surrender," he whispers, and I instantly loosen my grip around his wrists.

I stare at his face, usually full of amusement and cheekiness. But all humour is gone, and I feel my heart race, my breath catch, as I ever so slowly bring my face closer to Harry's. My hair cascades down, curtaining my face as I watch his eyes watching me. His hands come up to pull my hair back and my face to his at the same time, and our lips press together. It's hesitant and unfamiliar at first, but after a few seconds it's as though we've done it 1000 times.

Harry moves to bring us up, but never breaks the kiss, and then repositions me onto his bed so now my head is on his pillows and he's hovering over me. My hands play on his stomach, and I make a split second decision to pull his shirt off. My hands only tremble slightly as they move to the top of his pants.

Harry stops kissing me and looks at me seriously. "Are you sure?"

I nod, never more sure of anything in my life. "Yes," I manage to say, and it's the only encouragement he needs to fulfil my desire.