This one was very tricky, especially because of the age gap. A rare AU from me – 1981 in New Haven, CT.
Summer Girl
"What if I told you I've been in love with you since we were kids."
"Well, sweetheart. You did it."
"Yes," she said, kicking her legs as if daring her nude flats to fall off and clatter to the street below, hit in the end some newly-minted keeper of an Economics degree, some Senator's son and his ponytailed fiancee. Voluminous and blonde, nothing like her ugly Heidi braids. It was truly amazing how Han did this – disappeared from her life for months and months only to come back right when the weather got warm as though nothing had changed. "I did it."
"Summa whatever, right? And first in your major––"
"There are only two other people in the major," she murmured, "so it's not incredibly––"
"First to be first. First year of the program, first in the class. Feel like that's pretty neat."
"Thank you. I thought so." She picked up the bouquet of violets from beside her, picked gently at the petals and let the purple fall onto the tight white dress she'd picked out so adventurously, the one that now felt so ridiculous. "Thank you for these, as well."
"'Course. Glad you like them."
"I do."
"Got them because of––"
"Yes," she said, breaking into a wide, delighted smile and forgetting the fact that she'd been waiting for him to meet her since five at least, reapplying this stupid slutty red lipstick over and over for hours and hours. "My favorite – Violet! You're turning violet!"
"'It's not a children's book, you know,'" he teased, imitating her voice. "It's Roald Dahl. He's a British author. It's practically literature.' Your whole life a snob."
"My whole life." She pursed her lips, pouted them a bit even though it felt so foolish. "And now I have a diploma that makes it official. I know everything there is to know about Foucault. I am a snob. A snob's snob, actually – as all of the men here are always telling me when I don't fall into bed. Leia Organa, what a self-righteous feminist dyke of a snob."
"Yeah, but you're my self-righteous feminist dyke of a snob," he joked automatically, then frowned. "Sorry – er, that came out wrong."
"Please. You barely tolerate me, same as always."
"Nah, you're alright, princess. S'long as I don't get you started on Betty––"
"Betty Friedan. Yes. Good to know…"
They sat in silence for a long while as she tilted her head from side to side, and he said finally, "It'll be a weird summer without you here. Quiet."
"You think? Will it?"
"Sure, who's going to blabber at me when m'trying to get through Steinbeck? But hey – law school. Damn. Soon you'll be making the big bucks. Can buy books instead of borrow."
"Soon I can pay for a different fucking mechanic," she teased.
"Oh, the graduate swears, does she? Very sophisticated."
The Graduate, she thought suddenly, flushing brilliantly – Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?So much older than him – he was so much older than her––
Am I trying to seduce you?
"Well, Columbia's lucky to have you," he went on. "You'll be a fucking brilliant prosecutor, sweetheart. Taking down the bad guys and shit."
"Thank you," she breathed softly. "Thank you very much."
"'Course."
Another silent moment, and then, just as he was about to open his mouth, she blurted it out: "Han? What if I told you – what if I told you I've been in love with you since we were kids? What would you say? Would you laugh at me."
He was very still. "Laugh at you?"
"Or – that came out wrong because – not since wewere – since Iwas – what would you say if I said I had a crush on you at nine, when you were – twenty-one? Something wrong with me, I swear – you in the library – sitting across from you in the library every day of the summer, what––"
"Princess––"
"What if I told you that I hated summer, hated summer because school was over and after my parents passed I had nowhere to be, because you know school was my only place, but summer was okay because the cute manwho fixed cars and flirted with the girl at the front desk and was so handsome would be in the library? That I know every book I know in terms of the joke you made about the title – 'a tree may grow in Brooklyn but a fucking blade of grass can't grow in New Haven in this heat I'll tell you that' – that I loved the glamorous girlfriend you had when I was thirteen who took pity on me, taught me how to do eyeliner? The next one who bought me beer? Loved you when I was studying for the S-A-fucking-Ts––"
"Leia, shit––"
"What if I told you – you've been tangled through my whole body – my whole story of growing up – of what stupid bell-bottoms I wore, my stupid platform shoes – that I don't know how to tease you out?"
"Leia––"
"That I can't think of summer without you, that I don't know if leaving New Haven and leaving childhood and moving on means I have to leave you too – but then again I never had you – it's getting warm out, Han, will you and your next girlfriend visit New York, sit in the library with me? Some buxom woman with bright blonde hair teased out to here and her rugged boyfriend who looks like Indiana Jones, take me out to lunch and laugh like I'm a joke? Do you ever even think about me, anyway, or am I just that funny skinny girl who clings to scraps of your affection––"
"Leia, Jesus––!"
She was shaking by then, her fingers drumming frantically against her pale legs. "I don't know, do I mean anything to you at all? Because I feel like a crazy person – you're thirty whatnow? I feel crazy for – we're not friends, what arewe – maybe I'm just your summertime stalker? Have you ever wantedme, do you remember what – I think that one was Lizzy said when she saw that there was a bikini under my shirt – 'look at that popsicle stick's little get-up, Han! Oh my god, she's flirtingwith you!' Look at – violet, you're turning violet––"
"Leia, would you just shut the hell up for a second?"
She shut the hell up, shaking hard.
He rubbed his forehead. "You've been drinking, haven't you?"
"I graduated," she murmured. She pointed to the other side of the roof, where an empty champagne bottle was resting.
"Where the – how the hell did you get all this in your head? That you're – my stalker, that I don't care about you?"
"I don't… sometimes you…"
"That I could never want you – of course I want you, what the hell?"
"Of course you––"
"You think I'm happy to see you go? You think I'm not fucking – torn up – and – look, my feelings about you have changed a lot, obviously, Christ – you were practically my kid sister for awhile there but – you're fucking – radiantly beautiful, you're wicked smart and – and it's confusing as hell but I know for certain you mean something to me and that I––"
"I won't go to New York without you kissing me," she declared, her voice clear and loud and unabashed, like petulance, like a lawyer, like a bossy snob kid, like a Yale graduate who'd just drunk an entire bottle of champagne on the first night of the rest of her life. "I won't become a lawyer if you don't kiss me first. Even if you don't love me back. I won't leave this roof."
He kissed her hard and he tasted exactly like she dreamed he would taste, like summer and bright days and discovery.
"And what if I do love you back? Then what?" he said, his voice low and husky.
Mrs. Robinson?She looked up at him with lidded eyes. "Then there are a few more things I'd like to do on this roof as part of the deal."