Chapter Nine
Sailor
My phone rings, and I know I should answer it. I’ve been texting with Amelia for days, and it’s only fair I talk to her now that she’s calling. I’m just not in the mood to talk.
Still, it’s the least I can do. She is my friend, after all. She forgave me for ghosting her and being secretive—which, as she said, is what friends do. I’m not sure I’d do the same if the tables were turned.
I swipe the bar on the screen and bring it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“I didn’t think you were going to answer.”
“Sorry, I was in the bathroom.”
The lie falls from my lips easily, and it makes me feel weird. I shift on the couch, tucking my feet under me more, wishing for a day when I won’t have to lie anymore.
Why is it so easy to lie? Why has it always been so easy for me to lie? Maybe not face to face, I’m not good at hiding my emotions, but over the phone? Texting? It comes like second nature.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. You still haven’t told me what’s going on.”
The front door opens, and Sam comes in.
I give him a smile and point at my phone. He frowns as his gaze goes to it, and I hurry into the bedroom and shut the door.
“I’m not sure now is the best time to discuss it,” I say quietly.
“Why not?” Amelia asks.
“My roommate just got home.”
“Right…” It’s quiet for a moment. “Well, what do you think about me visiting?”
“What? How? When?”
She groans, and I hear something squeak, like she dropped onto her bed or a couch.
“I need a vacation, Sailor. School is so hard—”
“We’re on break.”
“—My parents won’t lay off. The parties are rough.”
I laugh at her ranting. “I’d love to see you.”
That’s the truth. I would love to see her.
I always had fun with her, and maybe… maybe telling her what’s going on with me won’t be the worst thing.
She’s a very open-minded person. She’s accepting of everything.
If I tell her about all this, I think the only thing she’ll be upset about is that I haven’t told her sooner.
“That settles it then—”
“Where will you stay? I’m sorry, but there isn’t room here.”
“I’ll get a hotel,” she says simply. “I didn’t just assume I would stay with you.”
“If there was room here, I’d let you, but…”
“But you’ll tell me all about it when I get there—I hope.”
I smile. “Yeah, I will. Promise.”
“Good. I wonder if I can get someone to buy me a bottle of vodka to take up there.”
“Amelia,” I scold.
“What? This feels like a needs alcohol type of conversation.”
I sigh, dropping onto my bed. She’s not wrong.
“When will you be here?”
“Well…” she begins. “I can blow off my Friday plans and stay the weekend, depending how much a hotel is. So, I guess I’ll leave Friday morning?”
“What’s Friday?”
“There was party, but it’s not important.”
“I can’t believe there are so many parties all the time.”
“What else are we supposed to do for fun?” she asks, crunching into something that echoes through the phone.
“I don’t know… prepare for upcoming classes?”
“Ha! That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I shake my head and say, “Make sure you check hotels first. It’s already Wednesday, and things may be booked up.”
“Yes, Mother,” she says sarcastically.
We chat for a while longer and then finally hang up with promises to see each other soon. I’ll admit, I’m looking forward to seeing her more than I thought I would. Getting out of this apartment and doing something that isn’t with Sam is exactly what I need.
When I step out of the room, Sam’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees.
“Hey,” I say, moving to sit beside him. “How was your day?”
“Fine.”
His tone dampens my bright mood.
“Oh, just fine? Did something happen?”
“Just another day,” he grumbles.
I sense the frustration in his voice, but I don’t know what he’s upset about.
He seemed fine when he walked in the door.
His moods have been all over the place lately.
Worse than normal. I know he is bipolar, this is something we’ve talked about it before, but I’ve never noticed his moods all over the place like this.
It’s why he’s on meds. Maybe they aren’t working anymore?
But I’m afraid if I suggest he see a doctor, he’ll get angry.
“Okay, uh… what do you want to do for dinner?”
He chews on the inside of his cheek before turning his head to look at me. “Why did you have to go in the room to talk on the phone?”
“What?”
“You went in the other room to have a private conversation so I couldn’t hear you.”
“No, Sam, that’s not what happened,” I say. “I went in the other room because I didn’t want to bother you with my girl talk.”
“Girl talk?” he questions.
“Yeah, I was on the phone with Amelia. I’ve barely talked to her since I’ve been here. We were just catching up. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, and I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”
He holds my gaze for a moment longer before letting out a long breath, his shoulders sagging. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I’m sorry. I have had the worst headache today, and I don’t know why. I feel like I slept so well but not at all.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Happens to all of us.”
I give him a smile, but it’s forced. This feels… so bad. So wrong. So not okay. Why is he acting like this? Like a possessive boyfriend. It’s starting to creep me out. I keep telling myself it’ll get better, but it only seems to be getting worse.
I need to get out of here.
I’ve never felt unwelcome with Sam, but I do now.
I’ve never felt like I should be concerned about Sam or his behaviors, but I’m starting to, and I know that is not okay.
It’s been awkward since the beginning, since I moved in here, with Sam trying to get back together with me, but this is different. It’s something else entirely, and I don’t like it. There’s an icky, heavy feeling settling over me, and I want it to go away.
The discomfort creeps its way up my spine, and I wonder if I should be more worried.
If I’m unsafe.
There is a saying that it’s always the ones you least expect, right?
What if Sam is the one I should be worried about?
What if I made a mistake in choosing him to protect me?