Chapter 4
4
Josie
It’s Tuesday. My voice is a raspy whisper, but I can finally make sounds. I missed work again, but now feel like I got hit by a small compact car instead of a semi truck. I was sitting on the couch when Parker took Laura to work. Her dad took away her car until she pays him back after overspending her credit card. That’s also why she had to get a part time job.
Laura didn’t even glance my way when they left. My heart drops. She’s mad at me. I need to set the record straight that nothing is going on between me and Sam, no matter how much I want there to be. Sam is the first guy who’s peaked my interest since my ex. It saddens me I can’t date him, but my friendship with Laura is too important.
My ex, Ricky, was everything I thought I wanted in a guy. Handsome. Charming. Mature. Played guitar. We met in the student union at the beginning of our sophomore year. He asked to join me while I was eating lunch. I was giddy to have attracted a handsome guy. We chatted for hours.
We dated for about a year. Ricky came from a wealthy family and went on exotic trips for every break. I never went with because I work overtime during breaks since I don’t have schoolwork. During the entire summer break between our sophomore and junior years, he toured Europe with his family. I couldn’t go because of summer classes and was devastated he was leaving for so long.
When he returned, he was different. Distant. Distracted. Said he missed me but was always busy when I tried to see him. I should have recognized the signs, but I was na?ve and thought we were in love. ‘ Absence makes the heart grow fonder ’ and all that bullshit is a myth that only exists in movies.
In reality, distance makes it easier to stray and easier to fall out of love. Unbeknownst to me, my good friend Sophia had also gone on a tour of Europe the entire summer. She stayed at the same hotels as Ricky. In the same room. He was avoiding me because he had fallen in love with her . Now, Sophia is pregnant with his baby.
It took me 41 days to get over him. 41 days of tears, potato chips, and running to make up for all the potato chips. Laura, Lucas, and Parker all tried to help. Laura kept trying to get me to hook up with a random stranger. Rebound fuck as she called it.
Lucas kept buying me potato chips and filled the pantry with every imaginable flavor. He even found popcorn flavored chips. Parker kept inventing elaborate ways to make Ricky suffer physically, reciting them to me in graphic detail, each one getting more and more complicated and gruesome.
On night 42, the three banded together and forced me to go to a bar. One of Lucas’ friends was in the band playing there, and they threatened to cut off my potato chip supply if I didn’t go. Cruel.
Two long island ice teas later, I was dancing on top of the bar trying to take my shirt off while the band sang me happy birthday. It wasn’t my birthday. We danced, laughed, and the guys drank embarrassing girly drinks for my benefit. Laura went home with some guy from her English class.
I woke up the next morning with a horrible headache, but no longer sad. Parker claims I puked up my feelings for my ex. I don’t remember puking, but I did remember how much fun I had. The kind of fun I never had with Ricky. He didn’t even like hockey or baseball. I missed all the warning signs that he wasn’t right for me. They hit me all at once like a baseball bat to the head.
While I am feeling better, I’m still drained. I’ve been sitting on the couch for a couple hours, only getting up for the bathroom or snacks. A kung-fu movie from the 90s just started when the doorbell rings. Not expecting anyone, I ignore it. It rings again. Dammit. I’m finally starting to get warm under these blankets. I fling them off, stomp to the door, and yank it open. On the other side is Sam holding up a paper bag with a grin on his face.
“Hiya beautiful. I brought you some soup.” I blink at him. “Still no voice? It’s okay. I know you’d probably say ‘thank you handsome, come on in.’” He says the last part with a high pitch. I can’t hold back a snicker. I step aside and gesture him inside.
Sam walks to the living room and sets the bag on the coffee table before turning around and sweeping me up in big hug. I stiffen at first. The hug is unexpected. The warmth of his arms around me feels comforting. Damn. This is a good hug.
This is just what I needed right now. I never want him to let go. And he doesn’t. The hug is lasting longer than a friend hug should. Dropping my arms, I step back. He does the same, then glances at the paused TV.
“Whatcha watching?” He asks.
“The One.” I croak whisper.
“She does speak.” He smirks. “Mind if I join you? I love this movie.”
Sam sits in the middle of the couch before letting me answer. I nod and sit down next to him. The lights are off and the sun is setting, making the room dark and romantic. This might not be a good idea.
The hug has left me overheated. My girly bits have snapped to attention. Our thighs are almost touching. I want them touching. No I don’t. Pretty sure thigh-touching is prohibited with guys your best friend claimed first.
I need to separate us before I leap over to straddle him and kiss him senseless. Where’s one of those folding fan things? He’s so close. Focus Josie. You can do this. You can keep this in the friend lane.
Sam leans forward to grab a container of soup out of the bag and spreads his legs further apart. Our thighs are now very much touching. Also our knees and whatever you call that lower leg part I can’t remember the name of while my brain is fritzing from the contact.
When he leans back, he doesn’t move his leg. I freeze. The feel of him against me is stirring things in my belly that have no business stirring. Dammit, I’m in trouble. Laura is going to hate me. She’s at work and not due home for a few more hours. I have to figure out a way to calm down my lusting for Sam.
“Would you like some soup? I got chicken noodle.” I nod, and he hands me a bowl and spoon. Inhaling over over the top of the bowl makes me moan. Sam’s leg twitches beside me. He grabs a sandwich out of the bag, and we eat while watching the movie. Neither of us speak. Our legs are still touching. I want more touching.
When I finish the soup, I set the empty bowl on the coffee table and snuggle deeper into the couch. I don’t think I’ve ever just sat comfortably with a guy and watched a movie I wanted to watch like this. Ricky hated kung-fu movies and refused to watch them. He preferred pretentious artsy films. We went to the theater often, but never once for a movie I picked.
The movie ends, but I don’t want this time with Sam to end. It should end. It should definitely end. I don’t want this to end. I’m too weak to fight myself.
“Wanna watch another movie? Need some more water?” Sam interrupts my internal battle.
“Yes to both.” I croak, squeaking like a mix between a mouse and an iguana. He laughs, and I elbow him.
“Okay. You pick the next movie while I get us water.” He heads to the kitchen while I skim through my movies. Die Hard. Perfect. If he doesn’t like Die Hard, we can’t be friends. Or lovers. Not that we can ever be lovers. Unfortunately.
“Die Hard?” He gives me a quizzical look. “You picked Die Hard?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I could kiss you right now. This is one of my favorites.”
I can feel my cheeks heat up at the thought of him kissing me. Kissing my neck. Kissing… Dammit Josie. No kissing. Friend-lane. Friend-lane.
Wait, is it zone? Friend-zone. Friend-zone.
Sam sits and stretches his arms along the back of the couch. I start the movie. We have plenty of time to finish before Laura is due home. I feel beyond guilty for enjoying Sam’s company this much. But she doesn’t know. She can’t know. I don’t have the motivation to ask him to leave, even though I probably should.