Chapter Fifteen
Sam is gone when I awaken and though
I know it was because of my concern about my mother, it still
leaves me disappointed. His scent still clings to my bed sheets,
and I roll over and press my face to them, breathing him
in.
The sight of Lacey Forbes
on the sidewalk of that cobblestoned Manhattan street last night
assaults my memory. It was a shock to say the least. The
realization that Chelsea tracked her down God even knows how long
ago—that all this time she's been pretending to have moved on from
her weird obsession with me, she's been working on Plan
B.
I don't know what her end
game was. Whether she meant to have Lacey accuse me of all the old
stories in front of all my new friends, or if she only cared about
convincing one person—Sam. But Sam would never have listened to any
of it. That I know without question. And it's a heartening thing.
To have no doubts about a person's loyalty. It's love. One I almost
threw away.
No, not almost. One I did
throw away. But one I have to get back.
I slept well last night.
Not only while Sam was here, either, but the whole
night.
When I come downstairs my
mother is sitting at the kitchen table reading the news on her iPad
and drinking coffee. I make myself a cup and sit across from her. I
hate feeling like I'm hiding something from her after everything
that's happened. I don't want to do it.
My mother puts down her
tablet and offers me a smile, surely about to ask me about my
night.
"Sam slept over last
night," I blurt out.
Her jaw drops, and she
puts down her mug with unsteady fingers, but she doesn't say
anything, obviously trying to process her reaction.
"Nothing happened," I tell
her. "We just… it was a weird night and he just wanted to hold me.
So I wouldn't have nightmares."
My mother lifts her mug to
her lips, sipping her coffee while she thinks of her next words.
"And did you? Have nightmares?"
I shake my
head.
She nods. She doesn't seem
to be mad, which is a huge relief to me. "Well that's good then, I
suppose," she murmurs, almost to herself. "I was up early. He
wasn't here…"
"No, he left before dawn.
I… didn't want you to freak out," I admit.
She nods again. "What was
weird about it?'
I furrow my brow in
question.
"Your night. You said it
was a weird night."
Oh. "Yeah. Did you know
Lacey was going to college in New York?" I ask her.
Her eyes widen in
surprise. "Really? No, of course I didn't know that. Not NYU,
though?"
She's nervous for me. "No,
FIT."
My mother sighs. "Well,
isn't that just wonderful." The sarcasm drips from her
words.
"Well, Chelsea—you
know—"
"The girl who attacked you
in the bathroom and later apologized. Yes, I remember, Rory." Still
with the sarcasm.
I roll my eyes at her.
"Well, the apology was fake, and she wasn't done
apparently..."
My mother raises her
eyebrows and I tell her all about Chelsea's plan and the
confrontation of the night before. My mother is
horrified.
"So Sam drove me
home…"
"And wanted to hold
you…"
I look down, blushing.
"Yeah."
"But you're still just
friends?"
"I—uh… I'm not sure." I
sigh. "I don't know, Mom. I miss him. I want him back. I told him
so the other day, but…"
"But? That boy is in love
with you, don't try and tell me any different," she
hedges.
I shrug. "He told me I
needed to be sure and to think about it over the weekend. That we'd
talk Monday."
My mother's lips slip up
into a wry smile. "That would be tomorrow."
No kidding.
"So, Rory, are you
sure?"
The million dollar
question.
****
When I return home later that night
from running errands my mother is in a far different mood than when
I left her. I'm feeling exhilarated, ready to take back control of
my life, but the stress lines around her eyes as she pores over
legal files in the living room give me pause.
"Mom?"
She looks up, startled,
and I'm instantly anxious. She removes her reading glasses and
starts rubbing her temples. I sit beside her.
"What is it?" But as soon
as I look down at the papers, I know it's about Robin. "The
hearing?"
My mother nods. "I've been
speaking to the prosecutor all day, honey. I think we'll be okay.
It's just, the Injunction for Protection is our best card, but if
they dismiss the violation charge…"
"But how? I mean, he was
there. They know he was there." My pulse races, and I force myself
to take deep breaths. My mother is so out of sorts that she doesn't
even notice my distress.
"You were in Miami. The
Order specified where you live, your school, but Robin claims he
had no idea you'd be in Miami, and we can't prove
otherwise—"
"But of course he did!
He said he knew!
Dad is the one who told him…" And then I understand. My father has
no intention of testifying on my behalf. Of course, he's done
everything in his power to help Robin from the beginning, so why
would I ever expect anything less from him?
Robin is going to get away
with violating his restraining order.
My mother finally notices
my horrified expression. "Look, honey, if they believe the assault
happened, then that's a violation in of itself. We were just hoping
that him being there at all…" she trails off.
I know all this. We were
hoping that would be the slam dunk. The point that would prove the
rest. That I was the one telling the truth. That I didn't come on
to Robin and then fly off the handle and start fighting with him.
But now we have to prove the assault to prove the
violation.
I push back my chair and
stand up.
"Rory—"
"I'm fine, Mom." I'm not.
I'm sweating profusely and I can barely control my breathing. But I
need to get the hell out of here. I don't want to think about this
right now. I can't. "I'm just gonna go take a shower," I tell her,
and then flee upstairs.
I take a pill. I haven't
taken one in a while and it feels like defeat. But it's happening.
I know it is. This is the beginning of the Forbes' strategy—of
Robin getting away with it.
I sit down on my bed and
pull the shirt from my bag. I hold the cotton to my nose and inhale
deeply. I won't think about Robin now. I'll think about tomorrow.
Because tomorrow is Senior Monday, and it's the day I'm getting Sam
back. For good this time.
****
I get to school early, nervous as all hell. I'm one of the
first people waiting outside room 313, lightly sweating in my
zip-up hoodie. Carl arrives before Sam, decked out in Tucker's
varsity football tee shirt, which she's tied stylishly at her
waist. She smirks at me when she asks what made me run off so early
Saturday night, openly suspicious of my leaving with Sam. She has
no idea what really went down and I'm in no mood to tell
her.
It isn't long before she
asks if I'm alright, obviously catching on to my jittery state, but
I blow her off. Because it's that moment that Sam rounds the
corner, and he pauses when his eyes meet mine. We didn't say we'd
talk about us first thing in the morning, but it's obviously on the
forefront of both of our minds.
"Hello?" Carl elbows me to get my
attention before she follows my gaze, and her smirk
returns.
"I need to talk to him," I
tell her. There are only a few minutes left before class, and most
of our classmates have already filed into their
homerooms.
Carl smirks again. "Don't
blow it," she sings teasingly.
Yeah.
Okay, nervous has shifted
to terrified. I don't know what made me so ballsy yesterday. Why I
felt so confident that I could put myself out on a limb like this.
I should have just waited to talk to him. To see how he feels. I
still could, of course. I could chicken out.
But I don't want to be
that girl. Not anymore.
Sam approaches me with a
soft smile. He doesn't have any books with him. Finals are over and
tomorrow will be our last day. Today the seniors have a long
assembly where they'll give out all sorts of awards and make
speeches, and all I have to do is hand in a term paper for
Government. Well, that and get my life back.
"Hey, you," Sam's deep
voice rumbles when he reaches me.
I can't help my own smile.
"Hey."
"Any trouble with your mom
on Sunday?" he asks, though he must know he snuck out just fine. I
wonder if he has experience sneaking out of girls' bedrooms, but
shake off the thought.
"No, but… I did end up
telling her," I admit.
Sam's eyebrows
raise.
"I don't like keeping
secrets from her after… you know, everything," I shrug. "She wasn't
mad," I assure him. "She understood."
I half expect him to be
annoyed with me, but he seems rather pleased. "So your mom was just
fine with me sleeping with you in your bed?"
I shrug again.
"That is good to
know."
I laugh. It
is good to know.
"So—"
"Look—"
We both try to talk at the
same time, and then nod at the other to go first. This is weird.
It's a strange position—to know we're supposed to talk about
something so big, so potentially life-altering, but not
necessarily when,
and yet, I'm not sure I can hold it in.
Sam sighs. "This is silly.
I don't want things weird between us. I meant what I said the other
day, Ror. No pressure. If you want us to be friends, then that's
what we'll be, okay?"
My stomach sinks in
disappointment. He's not going to make this easy on me, and it's my
fault for having been so skittish about our relationship in the
first place. "Is… is that what you want?" I ask shakily. Damn it, I
need to be stronger. Where is all the courage I had yesterday when
I came up with this whole idea?
"I… I think you know what
I want, Ror. That's never changed. But what I need is to know what
you want."
Fair enough.
I stare into his eyes.
Here goes nothing.
Everything.
My fingers tremble as they
reach for the zipper pull of my hoodie, and I slowly pull it
down.
It takes him a moment to
understand, and his brow furrows in that way that makes me crazy
for him. He's so incredibly beautiful.
His eyes finally widen in
surprised understanding as he takes in the tee shirt under my