Summertime & Butterflies

Fourteen

"Come on," Harry urged, his cheeky grin successfully distracting Olivia. "Chop, chop, Lollipop," he teased, tapping his fingers impatiently against the coffee table. She rolled her eyes at him, snickering as he found her hand and tickled her wrist. He snaked his fingers around hers, pulling her to him and smirking against her lips.

After rounds one and two with Harry, Olivia was on cloud nine. After the tension heavy "what are we" discussion, she thought she'd set the mood of the evening. She had mentally kicked herself – it was their last evening together for who knew how long, and she'd set the pace for it being an incredibly awkward night. That wasn't what she wanted. One of her favourite things about Harry was how goofy and fun-loving he could be. Lying in bed, swallowing emotional lumps as they wondered what tomorrow would bring wasn't how either one of them wanted to spend the evening.

So when Harry – feeling the same awkwardness Olivia felt –had off-handedly suggested a game of Scrabble, Olivia agreed, certain he was kidding, but hoping he wasn't. He might have been, considering the surprised look he'd given her when she agreed. But Scrabble was one of her favourite games and while she expected to dazzle Harry with her wits, she'd hoped the game would help move past the self-deprecating, emotional part of the evening.

"Come on, sweetheart," Harry continued, running his hand up her thigh, still working on distracting her. "I'm sure you can think of a word better than Dog. Maybe Tan?" he suggested, teasing Olivia's previous words.

Olivia scowled at Harry, examining her Scrabble tiles carefully. She started the game with a bang and used all of her tiles on the first word, but since then, she'd been lucky to get Apple on a double word square. Harry was pulling ahead, and Olivia couldn't have that. No matter how adorable he was, she couldn't let him win. Not in Scrabble.

"Okay, shush," she frowned, rearranging her tiles while he laughed at her seriousness. She had three I's, an O, an X, a Q and a J – almost the worst hand imaginable. She knew she could put her Q down off of the I in Drift that Harry had put down, but it was a useless square and only got her eleven points. That wouldn't help her beat the pants off him.

Though she would vehemently deny it, Olivia was a cheat with board games. She was notorious for sitting on money during Monopoly, and whenever a game required a tally score, she added a few extra tally marks here and there. She was the youngest child, competitive and a perfectionist to a fault. Scrabble was an easy one to cheat on – if someone challenged your word and were wrong, they lost a turn. Most didn't want to risk it. She used this to her advantage.

Carefully, she placed her J, O and X around the aforementioned I, resulting in the phony word Joix. "Okay, eight and eight, and two, plus double word... thirty-six," she announced with a grin, scribbling the number on the score sheet and hoping she didn't appear like she was trying to cheat.

Harry furrowed his brow, looking doubtful. "That's not even a word," he told her, though she thought he sounded uncertain.

"It's the name of a plant in New Zealand," she advised him, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. While she was a terrible liar, she felt as though Harry didn't know her well enough to pick up on her fib. Still, the thought he may pick up on her lie intimidated her, and she looked down at the board, straightening the tiles.

Harry howled with laughter as she broke eye contact. "You're full of shit!" he told her good-naturedly, rubbing her shoulder.

"Challenge me, then," Olivia told him, doing her best to sound confident. "You lose a turn, but..." She offered Harry a sassy shrug, silently willing him to move on and accept her word. She was a teacher. He should know better than to question her.

Harry was quiet, mulling over the stakes. Finally, he reached over and picked up the tattered Scrabble dictionary. Olivia wrinkled her brow, watching him, and hoping the word was somehow real. He leafed through the book, running his finger down the page. Olivia could see his lips moving as he searched, the action adorable to her. He closed the book and tossed it aside, looking up at Olivia as he ran his thumb and forefinger along the sides of his mouth.