"So, I was thinking about something," Harry says, joining me on the couch in his living room. After Liam left we took about two hours to make ourselves dinner. I don't know why it took so long. That's a lie, I do know. We kept goofing around and throwing food at each other..randomly making out...taking our sweet old time with everything. The food was amazing and then we took about an hour cleaning up. Apparently we don't focus well.

"What's that?"

"I want you to meet my friends," he says, smiling and sitting next to me. I put my legs over his and he puts his arm around my shoulders, his other hand fiddling with my fingers on his stomach. "I don't want to hide you. But, you are seventeen and for most people that's going to be a problem. Now that Liam knows who you are we need to figure out what to tell them about how we met."

I nod my head and try my best not to look disappointed. I hate the idea of lying about us; being with Harry feels so right, how can it actually be so wrong? That's how other people are going to see this. Wrong. Students don't date their teachers, it's just something that's understood. I never in a million years would have imagine myself being in this situation, but here I am. And now we have to figure out some sort of cover story. What's going to happen when I graduate and we can tell everyone the truth? They're still going to know that we were together while Harry was my teacher, they just won't be able to do anything about it anymore. I don't want to ask him about that though; we've been dating for about four hours at this point, so talking about nine months into the future seems a little pre-emptive.

"What do you want to tell him?" I ask quietly. He shrugs and puts his feet up on the coffee table, slouching further into the couch.

"I have no idea. Maybe we can say you're in your first year of college? That's close enough to your real age and then you're still in school. At least people won't have to react to the age gap later on when they find out what really happened." So he's thinking about that too?

"I guess. I don't know anything about being in college, though."

"We can figure that out later. Liam won't know anything about school here either so it doesn't really matter at this point."

"I hate lying, Harry."

"I don't like it either. But it's either lie and be together or...neither."

I sit up and lean against the couch beside him, suddenly really stressed out about this whole thing. In this little apartment with just the two of us, I feel safe and extremely happy. Outside is a whole other story. I'm going to be lying to everyone I care about, including my brother. That's going to be the hardest.

"Wait, is that what you want?" he asks, suddenly worried. "You don't want to do this anymore?"

"Of course I do." He closes his eyes briefly and relaxes visibly. "I guess I didn't really think about how hard this would be."

He puts his hand on my leg and moves a little closer to me. "I know, love. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Harry. We just got unlucky with being so far apart in age."

"Unlucky?" I shrug and he moves closer again, brushing his nose against my cheek. "If it weren't for that age gap we never would have met in the first place. I know this is going to be hard, but I want to try because there's something here that's going to be worth all the trouble were going to have making it work."

"How can you be so sure of that?" I ask, turning my head towards him. "We hardly know each other. This is literally the third time we've hung out. We can't even go on a real date in public because of what other people will think."

"I wouldn't say we hardly know each other," he argues. He leans his head on his hand that's resting on the back of the couch. "I know that you're seventeen, you go to Drew Prep School, you have a twin brother, Mason, and your best friend is Kylie."

"Anyone could know that," I retort, smiling slightly.

"Well I also know that despite the appearance of a perfect family what you have is far from it. Despite your minimal relationship with your parents, you still do what they want to make them proud because you secretly want some kind of relationship with them. You bite your lip when you're nervous or uncomfortable. You're beautiful and strong, smart. You're being pushed into a power career but you want to do something that makes you happy regardless of what it pays. You want to travel the world, experience life outside this rich little neighbourhood. You seem to spend a lot of time in your own head, thinking about things and analyzing whatever's going on around you. You're intuitive, bright."

"Okay, so you know some things," I tease, turning and mirroring his position. "There's a lot more to me, Mr. Styles."

"I plan on figuring the rest out, trust me." He smiles in the most adorable way and I feel like giggling. I have no idea why he's so into me, but I don't care. He's mine and I could not be happier.

"Well ask me anything."

"Where do you want to go to college?"

My stomach tightens. I always planned on getting far away from here. I don't know how he'd feel about that.

"Pass," I blurt. He raises his eyebrows and laughs a little.

"You said ask you anything, you can't pass!"

"Okay, anything but that one." He opens his mouth, I'm assuming to argue. "How about I ask the questions?"

"If you think I'm letting that one go you're wrong, but alright. Ask away."

"Umm...what's one place you've always wanted to see but never had the chance?"

"Woah, good question." He winks and I just laugh softly. "Hmm...probably New Zealand. I heard that it's really beautiful there." I roll my eyes. "What?"

"That's such a typical response!"

"Alright fine, miss original. What's yours?"

"Tihiti. Then Greece."

He rolls his eyes in mockery and waves his hand at me. "Typical."

"Hey," I laugh, swatting at his hand. "At least one of mine is like a historically significant place."

"I didn't realize we were allowed two answers!" he protests. "My second one would be Brazil. I hear the culture in South America is incredible. Those Europeans...they're no good."

"You're European," I laugh. He smiles and shrugs.

"Yeah, but I live here now so only like half. Maybe even less."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Well you don't make the rules," he informs me, tapping my nose. "If you could switch places with any celebrity who would it be?"

"Jennifer Lawrence. No question."

"Really? Why?"

"Because she's hilarious and she has an Oscar. Who wouldn't want to be her?"

He laughs and nods his head. "Fair enough."

"Or maybe Jennifer Aniston. I would have loved to have been on Friends."

"I think you secretly just want to have the name Jennifer."

"Maybe subconsciously. Who would you be?"

He looks away and sighs in thought. "That's hard. Umm...probably David Beckham."

"Why?"

"Because I love football, but I'm no good at it. Plus, his wife is really hot." I punch him lightly in the stomach and he laughs. "What, just pointing out the obvious!"

"Well point it out to someone that isn't your girlfriend."

"Hmm..I like that," he says lowly, pulling me closer to him. "You being my girlfriend. It's nice."

"Nice?" I ask, acting completely offended.

"Amazing," he corrects, smiling at me. He looks down at my lips and I wait patiently for him to kiss me. He doesn't move for it, though. "The minute you walked into my class on that first day I knew I was going to have a hard time keeping myself in check around you. I didn't even know your name but I was completely drawn to you." He continues, eyes flickering down to my lips every few words. What he's saying combined with his voice and incredibly sexy accent, I'm completely hypnotized by his words.

"You know," I begin, putting one leg over him and lifting myself to straddle him. He rests his hands on my thighs and slowly slides them up to my hips. "There are certain perks that go with having a girlfriend."

"Are there?" he asks, smirking at me and moving his hands up to my waist, hands sliding under my shirt. I nod and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other brushing through his curls. "What kind of perks?"

"Maybe you should find out for yourself." He suddenly tightens his grip on my waist and flips me onto my back beside him, slowly crawling so he's hovering over me.

"Maybe I will," he says quietly. His body and lips crash into mine simultaneously and I immediately wrap my arms around him. Within seconds his shirt is on the floor and mine might as well be since it's not covering anything anymore. This kiss reminds me of the one from the storage closet today. It's needy and hungry, both of us unable to control ourselves. His hands explore every inch of my body, whatever he can reach in the position we're in. Our tongues dance together in a battle for dominance, which he inevitably wins. I feel like I can't get enough of him. The kiss gets sloppier with every second, both of us needing more breaks to refill our lungs. I wrap my legs around his waist to tug him closer and can't help but be impressed at how toned his body is under my hands. He abruptly leaves my lips and nudges my head to the side, lips attacking my neck. My stomach flips when I feel his fingers at the button of my jeans.

"Wait," I breathe, separating a little. "We can't.."

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, just as breathless as me as he leans his forehead against mine. "Apparently I have no self control around you." He chuckles a little but it sounds more frustrated than humorous. I want to go further with him, trust me, but I don't want to rush this. I've made that mistake before and it didn't work out well for me. Harry abruptly lifts himself off of me and stands from the couch, walking towards the kitchen. I sit up and watch him, I'm sure both of us feeling a little rejected and frustrated at this point.

"What are you doing?" I ask quietly. Is he angry with me?

"Just taking a break." He turns and winks at me before opening the fridge. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay." I silently admire the toned shape of his muscles from behind. I never looked at someone's back as being sexy, but his totally is. I didn't think teachers could be this attractive. I didn't notice this before, either, but he has tattoos. A lot of them. I guess that's why he always wears long-sleeve shirts at school. He probably isn't allowed to have them showing.

"Suit yourself." He takes out a beer and tosses the cap in the sink as he walks back over to me in all his model-like glory. What's the drinking age in England again? 18? I wouldn't even be legal if we were there. Here I'm still four years away.

"What do you think your brother would say if he knew about this?" he asks, sitting beside me again. I lay on my back with my head on his lap. It doesn't take long for his fingers to find my hair, gently twirling it around.

"I don't think he would be very happy about it," I reply honestly. "He's protective of me anyway. When I was a sophomore I dated a senior and he just about had a heart attack."

"Wow, you dated a senior? Look at you go. Seniors, teachers. Anyone else I should know about?" His tone is playful but there's something in his eyes that makes me think he's nervous

"Don't judge me," I laugh. "Besides you I've only dated one guy that's been older than me."

"Have you dated a lot?"

"What's a lot?"

His expression gets more serious. "Savannah, how many?" I sit up and sit beside him, now ending all contact.

"I don't really want to have this conversation, Harry."

"Why not? It's not a big deal, just tell me."

"Why do you want to know?"

"I just do, this is a normal conversation that people have when they start dating," he reasons. "Why don't you want to tell me?"

"It's none of your business." I squeeze my eyes shut after the words have left my mouth and slowly look over at him when I've opened them again. Those are words that I've learned to be very dangerous when you're dating someone and they ask you a question.

"None of my business," he repeats, eyes darker, slightly angrier.

"Harry, I didn't-"

I'm cut off by my phone ringing on the table. I sit there staring at him for a moment, not wanting this to become a fight.

"You should get that," he commands blankly, looking away from me and sipping his beer. I pick up my phone and answer without looking at the caller ID.

"Sav, where are you? I haven't seen you since school and it's almost ten. We have school tomorrow," Mason says in a very fatherly tone. I roll my eyes at him.

"I'm not a baby, Mason and it's not your job to keep track of me. I'm fine."

"Where are you?" he asks again.

"Don't worry about it. I"ll be home soon."

"Tell me where you are, I'll come get you."

"Mason stop, seriously, I'm fine. I drove here. What's your problem?"

"It's a Monday night and you've disappeared, that's my problem," he half-yells. "Just come home, okay?"

"Fine. Bye." I hang up and turn back to Harry, who still looks angry and has now finished his beer. "I have to go. Are you upset with me?"

"Now why would I be upset?" he asks, tone dripping with sarcasm as he stands and picks up his shirt off the floor. He pulls it over his head aggressively as he continues. "I"m only risking my entire career to be with you and you can't even tell me about your dating history." He runs his hands through his hair to straighten it out of re-dressing.

"I don't see why it's important," I retort, standing as well and adjusting my own clothes.

"If you don't think it's important then why can't you just tell me?"

Shit. Teacher equals smart apparently. That could get annoying.

"It's not that simple, okay?"

"You should get home. I forgot, most people your age have curfews." My mouth drops open at the harsh tone in his voice as he walks to his door. He swings it open and keeps his hand on the doorknob, waiting for me to leave. I just stare at him for a moment. I'm not really sure how we ended up fighting.

"You want me to leave?" I ask quietly.

"It's late and I don't feel like fighting with you right now," he says impatiently.

"We need to talk about this," I insist, standing in front of him. He stares at me for a few seconds before turning and picking my bag up off the floor. He puts it on my shoulder for me.

"Have a good night, Savannah."

He doesn't understand. He doesn't get it. I hold back tears as I storm past him, running down the stairs and out to my car. When I get there I lean my head against the steering wheel, letting out my tears.

The relationship you have with your parents is supposed to be the one that's constant. Your parents are supposed to love you unconditionally, all the time. I have to be perfect in order for my parents to notice me. That is obviously impossible and I've learned to expect them to ignore me. My parents don't love me and there's nothing else on the planet that can make you feel as rejected as that. The people who brought me to the world don't even care enough to be there for me and Mason's birthday. We got our cars in the summer, three months after our actual birthday. They didn't bother to come home when we celebrated our birthday. You would think that after a while you would get used to it, expect it. In a way I do, but another part of me still hopes. I still hope that they'll remember to call me before bed, that they'll come to Mason's football games, that they might actually go to parent-teacher meetings. But they don't.

How am I supposed to trust in a relationship that is based solely on choice? Harry can choose to leave me at any time, just like any other guy. I've never given my heart to a boy before because I don't trust it. If my relationship with my parents is this much of a failure, how are any of my others supposed to succeed? My own parents don't want to stick around for longer than a few days, why would a guy want to?

I've dated a lot because at first I thought that it would get my parents' attention. It obviously failed and after that I just felt like I had to. I always got out before anything got serious, though, because I don't trust anyone with my heart. Mason is the only person who's never let me down. Other than that, I can't trust anyone. It's embarrassing to tell someone that I've dated so many people. It's not something that I"m proud of and this is not the explanation I want to give to Harry at this point. He doesn't need to know how damaged I am. He'll leave, just like my parents.

I won't be good enough.

When my eyes finally clear up I head back to my house. Mason is waiting on the front porch for me for some reason, standing and walking to me when I get out of my car.

"Where the hell have you been? Wait, are you crying?"

I shake my head and wipe under my eyes to clear any evidence. "I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"I hope wherever you were you did your homework," he scolds. I roll my eyes and push past him to the front door.

"Since when are you my mother?" I ask aggressively. "I can take care of my self, thank you."

"Why won't you tell me where you were?" he asks, shutting the door and following me up the stairs.

"Drop it, alright Mason? It doesn't matter." Before he can argue anymore I slam my bedroom door shut. Harry and I never actually came up with me to lie to my friends about where I am when I'm with him, not that it even matters anymore. Mason goes on these weird over-protective streaks sometimes when he thinks that I'm getting into trouble but has no proof that I actually am.

If only he knew.

Notes

gah i dont know how i feel about this chapter. it feels off. i hope you guys like it :s
if you do OR DONT either way please let me know!!!!! pleaseeeee


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