Men and women can't be stepsiblings

As I rode the tube back that night, it was pretty hard to get what we’d talked about off my mind. Obviously, Max been right that there was a girl, but not about the nature of it. Head over heels? Wedding? It made me feel a little weird, the same way I’d felt when Charley had brought up the rule that if either of us fell for the other, the arrangement was over.

Luckily, I’d agreed with her. And I still did. Yet, Max’s words echoed in my head. Was it really so obvious how happy I was with the way things were going?

And more importantly … I wondered if Charley was going through the same thing. Were all her friends questioning why she was smiling so much? Grilling her about some secret new guy she was clearly seeing?

I had no idea. I wasn’t even sure if it would be a good idea for me to know. But as I arrived back home and stepped inside, it was hard to not think about it.

It was pretty dark, but I could hear noises from the living room. I made my way through the hallway, and saw Charley sitting on the couch watching something, the lights turned low.

“Hi.”

“Oh, hey.” She paused what she was watching, and looked back over her shoulder at me, smiling. “You have a good time?”

“Yeah, just went for a couple pints.” I decided not to bring up the specifics of my conversation with Max. “How come you’re still here? It’s getting pretty late.”

She shrugged. “Don’t really want to take the Central Line right now. It’s always so packed. I figure I’d just stay in my old room tonight, head back in the morning.”

I stood there for a second, a little suspicious. The Central Line was the Central Line, whether you take it in the morning or evening. Honestly, it would be a lot worse if she went back during rush hour tomorrow. Was she just waiting for me?

“Fair enough,” I replied. I felt a nervous surge of energy. She’d wanted to do something before I’d gone out – did she still feel the same way?

I turned to hang up my jacket, and Charley spoke up from behind me.

“You wanna join me? I’m only about ten minutes into the movie.”

“Depends. What are you watching?” I peered at the TV, trying to recognize where the still image came from … only to realize I’d seen this frame countless times before.

“Really, Charley?” I groaned. “When Harry Met Sally? Again?”

“Hey! It’s my favorite,” she replied indignantly.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s great. But … it does start to get a little old the thirty-seventh time your stepsister makes you watch it.”

Of course, I said all that. But I was already making my way to sit beside her on the sofa.

“You’re just too immature to understand,” she replied snarkily as I plopped down next to her. “A movie like this is timeless, it gets better with every rewatch.”

“Oh, immature?” I laughed. “Not everyone has the luxury of your advanced age. The dementia kicks in, and every time you watch it is the first time.”

Charley clearly didn’t have a comeback to that, because she just slapped my leg lightly and un-paused the movie.

I had to admit, after a couple minutes of sitting there watching, I was having a good time. Not because watching the film for the millionth time was just so riveting, though.

I hadn’t been lying before, when I said that Charley had made me watch this with her countless times. But really, it had been quite a while since we’d last done it – over four years, a couple months before she left for Stanford. Sitting here now, it was almost nostalgic. Like I was a teenager again, watching a movie with my crush. Only now, I knew it wasn’t entirely unrequited.

Honestly, I was barely even paying attention. I was just basking in the warm feeling. It was only when we got to the infamous fake orgasm scene in the diner that I snapped back to reality.

Somehow, over the course of the movie, Charley had snuggled up closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I had put my arm around her shoulders. What the hell? I hadn’t noticed it happen at all – we’d just sort of ended up this way naturally. I sneaked a glance down, and it was clear that she wasn’t thinking about the position we were in. She was engrossed in the scene, a slight smile on her face.

I pretty much spent the rest of the movie focused on her, watching every micro expression – small chuckles, frowns, a sad smile. I was entranced. She was just so, so beautiful.

As the New Years Eve climax arrived, and Harry stood there telling Sally all the reasons he loved her, Charley must have finally noticed that I was staring at her, and she tilted her head up to look back at me.

I think I expected her to say something – a stern order to pay attention, that I was being a perv again. But she just gazed up at me silently, while Auld Lang Syne played softly in the background.

I was feeling this kind of fluttering ache in my stomach as I gently cupped her cheek with my free hand and leaned down to kiss her softly.

We’d kissed before of course; but never like this. We both slowly shuffled around, maneuvering so we were sitting upright, wanting to be more comfortable. I think both of us knew we wanted to stay like this for a while.

My head swam as I got lost in it all – her soft lips, the tickle against my cheek as she breathed out through her nose, her fingers slowly running through my hair. It felt like the two of us were the only people in the whole world.

In the background, I was vaguely aware of the movie finishing, the TV timing out and turning off, but I was barely registering any of it. I was just lost in the kiss, a world apart from anything we’d done before.

It was only after an immeasurable amount of time that Charley slowly pulled away, staring into my soul. The TV screen was off, and there was only the light of a single lamp casting shadows across the room. She looked hauntingly beautiful as they shifted across her face. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered.