I met Cassandra, Cassie, the fall after Abby and I broke up. She swept into town with a fury, like a hurricane, with a reputation for being nearly as destructive. She flirted with everyone. I mean everyone. Guys, girls, teachers, parents. Hell, I'd even say she flirted with my grandpa. She had one setting: flirt. I've been called a flirt in the past myself. I guess? I don't really think I do it, but Liam and Josh and Jack and all our other friends in HC said that I was a shameless flirt. So it seemed inevitable that our combined flirtation would evolve into something more.

But what was surprising, I suppose, was when it happened. How it happened. What I was wearing when it happened. And, of course, all that happened after.

It was Halloween, and I was fifteen. Mum had gone away with Robin, and as kids do, Gem and I threw a party. A costume party. So Liam was supposed to be Shaggy, and Josh was supposed to be Fred, and Jack volunteered to come as Daphne. Abby, yes, Abby, was going to come as Velma. And I went as Scooby Doo.

But Liam thought his costume looked too much like his regular clothes, so he came as the Joker. Josh then said he had to be Batman. They tried to get me to be Robin, but 1. I already had the full fucking dog suit and 2. Robin has to be the lamest superhero ever. So, Jack still came dressed as a woman in a bad blonde wig, but he kind of just looked like a hooker and Abby started crying and left almost right away because we were the only two in the theme costumes, which apparently bothered her. She said people would take it like we'd gotten back together. Plus, she really just looked like a nerd with a bad haircut. In short, the matching costumes were a disastrous, massive fail.

So there I was, a blundering dork in a giant dog suit. And here came Cassie in a short, tight black dress, looking like she was ready to take out every Caribbean island in one gust. I had no idea what her costume was supposed to be.

"Cassie," I said, nodding, smiling.

"Harry," she smiled back. I handed her a drink. "Good boy!" She cooed.

Goddamn that stupid costume. "And what are you supposed to be," I reached out and flipped the loose bit of fabric hanging down from her headband.

"Sexy," She giggled.

"Success." I smirked at her. "But you're always sexy." Okay maybe I was a bit of a flirt. Ha.

"I'm a go-go dancer, duh." She spun and did some lame dance moves.

"Let's go-go over there and dance, then," I said.

She laughed, this explosive laugh. "All right, Styles. Since you made me laugh."

We danced and drank and smoked a little weed and danced some more, until I was wasted enough to attempt a kiss. She moved her body against me in ways I'd never experienced. It was...enlightening. I kept trying to pull away, as I was starting to tent in the stupid dog onesie, but she just kept pulling me back, like she wanted to feel me pressed against her.

And then the music suddenly cut off, the lights all over the house came on, and my mum and Robin were shouting up a storm. A hurricane Cassie. I had my hand down the top of her dress and she was quite clearly palming my crotch. But instead of hurrying apart, as all the other couples there did, she remained half in my lap, with her skirt hiked dangerously high up her thighs.

I was on punishment for two weeks. Gemma, three, since she's older.

But as soon as it was over, Cassie and I picked up where we left off. I don't want to give you the gory details, Maddie, because you've already heard some, and I know it didn't sit well. Suffice it to say, she was direct in bed, telling me what she wanted, showing me how when I didn't know, guiding me through the ins and outs (no pun intended) of sex. She was neither kind nor cruel in her instruction, simply straightforward. I'd only done it the one time. And Cassie...she was experienced.

Here's the thing about her: Cassie always insisted we were just friends. "Friends with benefits. Don't catch feelings, Harry," she said over and over. "This is just fun. Just physical, yeah?" And I always agreed. Of course I agreed. If my options were to comply and continue bedding her or protest and be on my own again, of course I was going to say yes.

And I mean, I liked Cassie. She was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. She was cute. Funny. I might have "caught feelings," but for her insistence that we couldn't. I could have loved her. It could have been more. But it wasn't. I didn't. I'd loved Abby, I thought, and I'd fallen alone. I was not going down that same road again, especially with someone who straight up told me from the beginning that she wouldn't fall for me. So it was just casual fun.

During the four months we were "hooking up," Cassie and I were out of control. Skipping school, ignoring curfews, avoiding any and all responsibility. We partied nearly every day, drinking, smoking (which was terrible for my asthma), experimenting with coke and even a bit of acid. She was pretty well hooked on the drink and weed, and I think by the time we broke up, she couldn't go without a snort every day too. I'm lucky. I feel so lucky that for some reason, addiction just never took hold in me, and I walked away from it all when I left her behind in my hometown.

(I've never touched drugs again, Maddie. I swear to you. And I never will. My only addiction is you.)

Cassie was wild, powerful, too powerful for anyone in her path to withstand, and unpredictable. Sometimes a bit scary. One time, she danced on the edge of her parents' roof, twirling and tiptoeing, high out of her mind, and I had to pull her down, wrapping my arms around her waist and leaning back so we fell together onto the flat roof. My heart was racing. Was it the cocaine or was it the fear? Cassie laughed it off. She didn't care about school, she didn't seem to care much about her family, and most times, I thought she didn't really care about me either. Sometimes, I think maybe she didn't care about herself either.

I don't know. I don't even know what my point was anymore.

But yeah. That's the story of Cassie. The girl who taught me how to fuck.

And this, this whole thing, some 65,000 words, is the story of the girl who taught me how to love. Wow. I have already written you a Philosopher's Stone-sized love letter, and I'm not even a quarter of the way into it. We'll need several shelves and many volumes by the time I'm done, Maddie. I love you so much, and there simply aren't enough words to tell you. Until I run out, though, I'll keeping adding to this, the encyclopaedia of you and me.

~~~~~

I'm in love with their love.

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