Amelia pulls up to the curb in front of her childhood home. It's a narrow two-story with a covered porch and a big tree in the front yard. It reminds me of a house out of a storybook, the porch swing and cream colored siding give it a certain charm.

"We'll sneak in the front door. Nobody will be there. Everyone is in the back of the house eating dessert," Amelia casually says as we get out of the car, the doors slamming shut with an echo.

"What if they do see us... or me?" I ask, giving my shirt a quick sniff to make sure it's not too disgusting.

"They will not. I promise you. Most of them are drunk anyway," she tells me while assertively grabbing my hand to lead me up the lawn.

The whole thing makes me feel like a teenager again, sneaking into a girlfriend's house. You get really good at it, but I'm way too rusty and out of practice now. It makes me glad that Amelia is leading the way for this one.

She turns and gestures for me to be quiet as she ever so gently pushes the front door open. I'm hit with the smell of turkey from earlier and the subtle scent of cigarettes, all floating in warm air.

I can barely glance inside before Amelia grabs my wrist again from behind, yanking me towards a dark ascending staircase like I'm an object she needs to quickly get rid of.

I nearly trip, but remain quiet as I crouch and watch her peer towards the sound of voices laughing and talking in the back of the house. My fingers are crossed that nobody even noticed us entering.

Quickly, she gestures for me to go up and I start climbing, looking back to make sure she's coming, too. We get to the top of the stairs and she throws herself onto me, giggling as we fall backwards onto the worn down carpet.

"I fucking told you nobody would notice," she whispers.

"Stop giggling and let's go," I tell her, clearly more concerned someone is going to come to the staircase and see us than she is. There is a dark hallway to our left, one of the doors has to be her bedroom or some sort of room we can occupy.

Amelia stands up, creeping down the dark hallway until she reaches the very end. She opens the door on the left slowly, waving me to come with her.

We finally get inside her room, and she closes the door, flicking a switch to turn on strings of white christmas lights draped along her walls.

I feel a wave of relief, because at least we are behind closed doors now.

Her room is painted lilac, the color she must have chosen as a child. However, everything else is neat and tidy and clean – not one trace of Amelia as a child is left behind.

There is a bed, an ironing board folded up in the corner, and a shelf with someone's craft supplies. I take my coat off and drape it over a swivel chair that's next to the shelf.

"Do you really want to do this?" She asks me in an innocent tone, her lips close to my neck from behind. Her warm breath against my skin sends goosebumps up my arms as I let go of my coat, which I realize I'm still gripping. 

Her arms wrap around my waist, and I almost feel like I'm pinned. I breathe in through my nose and turn around to face her.

"Do you?" I push some of her hair away from her face.

It would be fine if she didn't – that would just mean I would get to go home and sleep. Something I feel like I desperately need right now.

"Yes," she says, already playing with the hemline of my shirt. Her tone gives off a sense of impatience, like she's waiting for me to make the first move.

Something about it feels off.

She is still a stranger, and I hate that part of me that struggles with hook ups because it would make things a lot easier.

Mentally, I remind myself that Amelia is not exactly a stranger. She is someone that I like a lot and this is sometimes what happens when two people like each other a lot.

While my head is telling me "no," I somehow manage to pull my shirt off, a gesture done purely out of reflex.

Amelia's expression is a bit surprised, taking one step back to look at me. Her eyes hover for a second before she curves her lips into a smile.

She immediately starts undressing, like it's not even a big deal at all. I suppose it isn't.

Underneath her clothing, she has lingerie on, which makes me wonder if this was her plan all along. She grabs my wrist and pulls me towards the bed. I stay at the side while she climbs up and sits on her knees, reaching for the zipper of my pants.

Suddenly, her demeanor changes. I watch it happen live – her face twists and her shoulders slump, like a wave of exhaustion has hit her.

"You're not hard," she blurts out.

"What?" I shake my head to try and figure out what has just happened.

Amelia gestures towards my crotch, her face flushing pink. 

"I just thought that you wanted to do this as much as me," she pouts, crossing her arms at her chest. The whole thing is a turn off.

"Well, like, sometimes it takes more than a minute," I tell her, scratching my head awkwardly because I know she already knows this, "and it has nothing to do with me wanting or not wanting to do this."

"But if you really wanted to, it would have happened already," she quietly adds.

I don't feel like playing sex-ed or digging into how I really feel in this moment, so we just both stand frozen for a few seconds.

Amelia chews on the corner of her cheek and I notice her shoulders are even more slumped than before.

"Maybe we can just cuddle and we can do this again a different time, when it feels more... organic."

I nod, feeling reassured that I wasn't the only one picking up on the energy earlier. Or perhaps it was my lack of erection that ruined everything, which circles straight back to the energy earlier.

"But can I wear your shirt?" she points on the floor where I threw my shirt.

This takes me by surprise because she's acting like it doesn't have someone's grandma's watered down Thanksgiving leftovers sprayed all over it

"It's dirty, are you sure?" I ask while picking it up.

She nods and pulls it over her head after I toss it to her – no second thoughts.

She crawls to the top of the bed and slips under the covers, sighing, then whispering, "I'm not high anymore."

I laugh, laying on top of the covers next to her.

"Do you want to be?"

"No, I want to go to sleep," she tells me while her eyes flutter closed.

I scoot closer so her forehead is pressed against my chest. There's a part of me that wants to protect her, that cares deeply for her in the short time I've known her. She deserves someone really amazing, but I'm not sure if it's me.

Suddenly, she plants a kiss directly on my lips.

"Thank you for being here," she murmurs, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"Of course," I whisper, wrapping my arm around her tightly.

When I'm confident she's asleep, I break away slowly, trying not to disrupt her.

Since I don't have a shirt, I just put my coat on.

I take my phone out of the pocket and check my messages. Sadie got back to me, and Diego sent me six blurry pictures of pie for some unknown reason.

I open Sadie's message and see a photo of her bubble bath, complete with a tray that holds a candle and a pint of ice cream. The lights are dim and the water looks warm and soft.

I reply, And you didn't invite me? Rude.

I open Diego's pie pictures, beginning to type a text to ask him to pick me up because I don't know where the hell I am.

I drop my location in the messages – easier this time – and see him read it right away.

Then, Sadie answers again, quite possibly the fastest she's ever replied to me.

It's a picture of her toes popping out of the bubbly water.

There is still time.

My heart rate picks up. Surely she is messing with me, right?

Hypothetically, if I showed up, you wouldn't turn me down?

Sadie reacts with a laughing emoji, text bubbles appearing quickly again.

Hypothetically, no.

"Dammit," I mutter, putting my phone back in my coat pocket. There is no way for me to get to Sadie's house. This is all just a tease.

After quietly pacing the room for what feels like five minutes, I pick my phone back up and stare at the messages from Sadie. I shake my head and lock the phone, because before I answer I need to get out of this bedroom.

The window is not as high as some windows I've had to leave from. It opens up easily and quietly and there is no screen which is a bonus.

Once on the ground, I open Sadie's messages again and hit the call button. She answers after a few rings.

"Hello?" Her greeting is smooth and sounds like a song.

"I'm serious. What would you do if I came to your place right now?"

"Well, I am in the bath tub, as you know. So you'd probably have to pick the lock and force entry. I'd maybe call the police and they'd show up and arrest you."

I laugh, scrunching my face up a bit.

"That's a bit harsh."

Sadie laughs on the other end, and I hear the water sloshing in the background.

So much for trying to be flirty.

"For real," I tell her again as if the first time wasn't serious, "if Diego can drop me off at your place..." I trail off, thinking of what we could do.

"Then I could see you after my bath and we could hang out," she finishes my sentence confidently.

"Yeah, hang out," I say like I'm tricking my body into believing that's what would happen.

Then, I hear Diego before I can see him.

He pulls up to the curb shouting, the window opening before he hits the brakes to slow down.

"Come on, dude. I have to get back home! We're still partying! You wanna come?" Diego starts waving me over to the car like I'm about to cross a finish line.

"Nevermind," I tell Sadie quickly, my hopes and dreams getting crushed, "I'll call you back when I get home."

"I'd come and get you but my mom totaled my car. It's a long story," Sadie says with a sigh.

"I'd love to hear it sometime. Maybe over coffee or something?"

"Maybe," Sadie responds, a playful tone to her voice.

Hanging up is the most painful thing I had to do the entire day.