Chapter Fifteen #2
hoodie—Port Woodmere
Football, number fourteen. The back, he
knows, has his own last name, Caplan, written across
it.
This is it. What I want.
My declaration. I'm his.
If he'll have
me.
"Where'd you get
that?"
They're not the words I
was hoping for. "Bits," I answer.
One of my errands from
yesterday included me asking his little sister to help me out, and
she was all too happy to.
Sam shakes his head as his
lips quirk up into a smile. "You know what this is supposed to
mean, right?"
He thinks I don't
understand the depth of meaning behind the gesture. But I
do.
"Yes, Sam, I know exactly
what it means. It's my way of saying… I'm
sure. I've never been so sure of anything
in my life. So if you—"
But I don't get to finish
the thought, because his lips cover mine immediately.
God, yes.
I kiss him back with
everything I have, completely uncaring of the few passers by that
straggle into class at the last minute, or the catcall that I
barely even register. His arms come around me and he presses me
into the lockers I panicked against when we first met, his tongue
sliding against mine in a dance that feels so different, so much
better now that I'm really his.
The bell rings, but it
sounds miles away, and neither of us pulls away. Sam sucks on my
bottom lip in that way that makes me sigh, a sound that makes his
mouth crash against mine with renewed fervor.
I'm vaguely aware of a
cough, but I don't care. I've missed this too much. It sounds
again, and Sam finally pries his mouth away, holding his forehead
against mine as we catch our breath.
"Yes, perhaps you should
prioritize breathing over sucking her face off."
I startle, accidentally
banging my head back against the locker. Ow. Sam threads his fingers through
my hair, rubbing the spot for me and starts laughing. It's then
that I realize the cough was Mr. Frank clearing his throat and I
blush scarlet as he chuckles with amusement. Well, at least we're
not in trouble.
"Maybe I should consider
turning my student tutoring program into a matchmaking service. It
would be a great way to supplement my meager teaching income," Mr.
Frank jokes.
I stare at my sneakers,
but I hear the smirk in Sam's words. "I think you'd be pretty
successful."
"Not so disgruntled over my
homework policy now, are you, Caplan?"
"No, sir. I'd have to say
I support it wholeheartedly," he murmurs as he leads me into the
classroom.
I keep my eyes trained on
the floor, suddenly aware that several of my classmates must have
witnessed our public display of affection, and those that hadn't
either heard about it or saw Mr. Frank go out to get us. Not that
it matters, since I'm displaying my commitment to Sam on my back
with his varsity shirt just as surely as Carl is for
Tucker.
I take my seat in the back
of the room next to Carl and prepare for the interrogation. "Um,
something you want to tell me?"
I blush all over again. "I
think Sam and I are back together."
"You think?"
Well, yeah. We didn't
really talk about it, did we?
"On Friday I told him that
I wanted to, you know, try again with us. But he said he wanted me
to think about it, to be sure. So I thought…" I gesture to the
giant tee shirt dwarfing my frame.
"You thought you'd make
some insanely romantic declaration of love?! And you didn't tell
me?!" Carl is excited for me and it makes me smile.
"Well, I thought he should
be the first person I told…"
"Uh, wrong. Your best
friend is the first person you tell. Then the boyfriend."
I don't bother correcting
her, because even though Sam really is my best friend, Carl is my
best girl-friend, and she's been there for me through it all,
unconditionally, and I love her for it. But I'm more focused on
having her refer to Sam as my boyfriend. God, that sounds so damn
good.
My eyes inexorably flit
over to where he's sitting sideways in his seat, listening to Dave
tease him, but he's staring at me. I blush an even deeper shade of
red and his lips slide up into a contented half smile.
Dave punches him in the
arm. "Hello? I'm
talking, lover boy, pay attention."
Several people start
laughing and my gaze darts away in embarrassment.
But I don't dwell on it.
I'm too busy being happy.
****
Sam and I are the talk of the school and I hear whisper after
whisper as I sit through the hours of our senior assembly. Speeches
and awards, slideshows and videos. Memories that belong to other
people. Sam gets several awards, unsurprisingly, but as the new
girl who just started here in February, I'm practically invisible.
Well, that's if you don't account for the gossiping eyes floating
my way time and time again.
When I come around to the
student lot for lunch, I see Sam having a heated conversation with
Chelsea, who looks as if she's about to cry. I have no sympathy for
her. She made her bed, and now she can go and screw Lacey Forbes in
it for all I care.
Eventually Sam turns his
back on her and walks over to Tuck's car, and I hear Chelsea call
after him, but he ignores her. She drives off alone minutes later,
and I approach him cautiously.
Sam is telling his boys
that Chelsea betrayed him and that they're no longer friends. No
details. Though by the way Tucker and Dave hold their eyes, I
suspect they both know the whole story. I don't even mind. But even
without all the information, Sam's vague edict is enough for his
friends, and I hear them call her a bitch and something about how
she's out of their limo for Prom.
It's there then, the
whisper of guilt, but I force it away. She doesn't deserve
it.
It's then that Dave
notices me, hanging back behind Sam, not wanting to interrupt their
conversation.
"Well if it isn't Cap's
girlfriend," Dave teases.
Sam spins around, and I
watch the frustration drain from his tense limbs. His smile is
back, complete with the dimple I love, and I can't help my
own.
"Rory and I are gonna go
get lunch alone," he tells his friends, but his eyes ask me a
question.
I nod. Hell yes, I want to
be alone with him.
He opens the passenger
door for me like a perfect gentleman and we pull out of the lot
while our friends all stare after us with wide eyes.
We end up going to his
house to have some of his mother's leftovers. He doesn't make a
move other than to kiss me. A lot.
We talk about nothing.
About everything. And magically it feels as if there was no break
in our relationship. Nothing has ever felt more natural.
But then he brings up the
hearing.
"I talked to your mom, you
know. I'm flying out with you guys tomorrow. I booked rooms for two
nights. For all of us," he tells me. The hearing begins Wednesday,
and as it's something of a mini-trial, the prosecutor suspects it
will last either two or three days. "But I can extend it if we need
to."
"I don't want to share a
room with my mom." The last thing I want is for my nightmares to
keep her up all night.
Sam smiles wistfully. "I
know, Ror. I got three rooms. The prosecutor called Tucker and told
him to be on stand-by. That they'll call him on the first day if
they need him to fly down for the second day, in which case he'll
just stay in my room."
I stare at the kitchen
table, nodding absently. It doesn't feel real. I'm going to have to
see Robin again. I hate that I have to see him. And as much as I
want Sam with me for support, I don't want him there just the same.
I don't want him to have to be a part of this. It feels like deja
vu, and I feel like the pain of my past is about to swallow up the
happiness of my present.
"Ror..."
"Hmm."
Sam takes my chin between
his thumb and forefinger, forcing my gaze back to his. "I'll be
with you the whole time," he promises. But that's just it. As much
as I want that, it's also what's bothering me. "Baby, it's going to
suck. I know it is. But it's going to be okay. I told you, he's not
going to get away with it."
And that's where he loses
me. Because he can stay by my side as much as he wants, but he has
no control over what's about to happen. He holds my face but my
eyes still escape, staring out the window over his shoulder at the
beautiful late-spring day. The afternoon sunlight glitters over the
surface of his lagoon-shaped pool. It's a beautiful place—the home
where he grew up. But life wasn't always beautiful inside this
house, I know that. Things are rarely as they seem, rarely as they
should be, and it makes me wonder how long this happy state between
Sam and I can really last.
"Do you trust me?" Sam
asks suddenly. This catches my attention. It's a strange question
at the moment.
I nod through my
confusion.
"Then trust me," he says
intently.