1. Sam, 12 years old…
. . .
This is going to be the worst day ever. I already knew it would be when I woke up before my alarm clock, and then sat patiently while Allie decided to eat my favorite Fruity Pebble doughnut for breakfast. I had to watch while she carefully chewed the crunchy bits then threw away half of it when she remembered she didn’t like that flavor.
My mom reminds me over and over that she’s only four and a half, almost five, and she doesn’t know any better.
I call BS, but wouldn’t dare say that to my mom.
She’s already flushed and frantic, trying to get to her shift on time and having to drop Allie off for daycare.
Thank goodness she’ll be in kindergarten next year, and I can get her on the bus for Mom.
I’ll get off at the middle school before they make the trek to the elementary school, but at least I’ll be with Allie until then.
Middle school. The main reason I am not looking forward to this day.
At least I ended up in some of the same classes as my two girl best friends, Riley and Emma, but knowing that I was going to, once again, be at a different school than Jameson is what bothered me the most. Our public school system is huge.
There’s three elementary schools and two middle schools.
The high school is going to feel like being dropped into a small city by the time we all converge there in a few years.
“Sam!” Riley calls my name, and my head snaps up from watching the sidewalk. She’s excitedly waving her arms near the front door. I wave back when I spot her and quickly walk over there. Emma pops out around her and sweeps us all up into a group hug.
“I love your backpack,” Emma gushes about my tie-dye blue and purple bag.
I flash her a smile, and we loop arms, heading into the school.
As we head down the hallway to our bank of lockers, we chat about the last few days of our summer breaks and I listen while they talk about how excited they are to start middle school.
Once all my things are in my locker, I make my way down a separate hall, avoiding the mass of student bodies, until I find my first class.
Sixth grade barely prepared us for switching classes every hour like we’ll be expected to do in seventh grade; I’m just happy that Emma volunteered to get my schedule laminated for me when her mom did hers as well.
This way I can keep track of it easier and even if it gets spilled on it won't be ruined. Emma’s mom is always on things like that, just like being the snack parent for our hockey game days.
I survive two classes before making it back to my locker. I’m quickly shoving my folders into my locker and grabbing the snack at the bottom of my bag when I hear my name shouted in the hallway.
“Sam!”
My head snaps up, and a blush creeps up my cheeks.
No way. My heart jumps in my throat and I turn, glancing down the hallway, seeing Jameson, full of confidence, walking down the hallway like he owns the place.
He’s easily taller than most of the other seventh graders here.
His deep brown eyes glint with mischief while he pushes his long, dark hair off his face.
I watch as he gains attention from everyone he passes; yet, his gaze never leaves me.
His lips pull into a smirk, while my fingers are frozen around my granola bar.
I’m sure my mouth is hanging open, and I quickly slam my lips together once he’s in front of me.
His chest hits my hands that are holding my snack, and he leans down until we’re eye level.
“Surprised to see me, Sammy?”
He only calls me that when he’s trying to rile me up. It started as a joke when his friends were teasing us, singing Jamie and Sammy sitting in a tree. Jameson took one look at my face turning red with embarrassment, and they never tried it again.
Shaking the memory away, my fist connects with his shoulder, and he winces, pulling back slightly. “What the heck, Kane?”
“Kane, huh? You must not like my surprise.” He chuckles, but the noise sounds wary, some of his confidence slipping.
“Not like it? I cried my eyes out last night, Jameson. I’ve been thinking I was never going to see you this year.” My voice cracks a little, and I startle him and myself. Teenage hormones are no joke and the last thing I want to do is cry right now.
His fingers brush the lone tear off my cheek before anyone notices, and his smile slides easily back into place.
“Glad you were going to miss me, Sam. I had to promise my dad extra hours at the garage this weekend cleaning just for him to make the call so I could transfer here. I was hoping to surprise you.” He shrugs his shoulders, looking almost sheepish. Stupid idiot.
“Good surprise, Kane,” I rush to reassure him, while my heart swells in my chest. “What’s your next class?”
“Gym, with you.” He winks, and my stomach flips.
That’s been happening a lot with Jameson.
Usually when he winks at me, or when he stands up for me during hockey games, or anytime he smiles at me.
Not the cocky grin he usually wears, but the deliberate, slow rise of his lips that makes his eyes soften.
I’ve never seen him look at anyone else with that smile.
It feels secretive, special, and mine. My heart races in my chest as he starts walking down the hallway with me right by his side.
His attention never wavers the entire time.
At the locker rooms, we head in different directions.
I need the time spent changing into my gym clothes to calm down the butterflies swirling in my stomach.
My mind is frozen, remembering the self-assured way Jameson carried himself in the hallway as he headed toward me with purpose.
He thought his surprise made my day; little did he know he just made my entire middle school experience.
Jameson, age 13
The tight grip on my chest eases the rest of the day the more I get to see Sam.
I didn’t mean to piss her off with my secret.
I sort of thought once she saw me, she’d jump into my arms and hug me like she did at our end-of-the-year tournament when we won first place.
I replay that scene in my head multiple times a day, until my chest flares with heat and my body responds.
I had been expecting her to hit my shoulder with her gloves; instead, her arms wrapped around my neck and all I could smell was the sweet scent of her shampoo in her hair underneath the faint layer of sweat that clung to her.
It was a difficult game, and we both played hard.
I had even taken a penalty for getting back at a kid on the other team who had shoved her into the boards.
No one goes after my teammates without retaliation from me.
Especially when it comes to my girl. Still, her celebration hug lives rent-free in my head.
That sealed the deal for me, knowing I needed to do everything I could to make sure we were at the same middle school this year.
Gym passes quickly, and it's easily the best part of my day, now that I get to see Sam. I finish getting changed before her and decide to wait outside the doors by the lockers. We have the same class again after this, and I want to walk with her. Braysen stops walking and waits next to me.
“That guy over there was saying stuff about Sam in the locker room,” he says under his breath.
My gaze follows his to a pretty-looking boy I’ve never seen before and don’t know.
The first thing I notice is he’s not as tall as me; his hair is blond and spikey where mine is dark and long, and he looks like he barely even worked hard in gym class, since his spikey hair is still gelled to perfection.
My lip curls, watching his eyes as they keep flickering to the girls’ locker room door.
“What did he say?”
“She’s pretty, and he wants to ask her to be his girlfriend.” Braysen shrugs, but his eyes narrow on the guy too. Sam is one of ours, our best friend. But she’s more mine and I like that I’m the closest to her.
My feet start moving, bringing me toward the poor kid who thinks my best friend is pretty.
There’s no way he will ask her to be his girlfriend, not on my watch.
“Hey.” I nod at him. He stands straighter, his eyes flashing to mine in recognition.
Probably remembering how close Sam stayed to me the entire gym class. “Stay away from Sam, alright.”
The kid's face turns red with embarrassment, and his group of friends starts laughing. He stares at me mortified and angry. “What’s it to you, jerkface?”
My shoulders tense, and my gaze narrows on him. “She’s my best friend, asshole. And I’m going to marry her someday.”