6 - Samantha
I wait for the toastto pop. My coffee smells fantastic this morning, probably because I haven’t taken any medications yet and so far, my stomach is calling a truce. Cyn and I have just dressed to match for Twin Tuesday and it’s getting close to time to leave for school.
“So...” Cyn impatiently drills her fingertips on my countertop. Her eyebrows are raised high above her lids. “A reliable source says my brother was here yesterday after school.”
I lightly butter my toast then reach for the strawberry jam. “And?” I ask, not offering any information.
“And my source tells me he was here for a while with you while you were sick.” Cyn shifts her weight from one leg to the other, unable to contain her anticipation as her eyes persistently pierce me for details.
“Your source would be correct,” I affirm, crunching a huge bite of my toast. I’m starving, plus, not divulging details tortures Cyn and that’s fun in itself.
“My source also tells me he enjoyed himself. Sam, what’s going on?” she blurts out, demanding to know. She can’t take the suspense anymore. I can see the tension building on her face, twisting her features into an unrecognizable human I once called Cynthia. Maybe I should not enjoy her agony.
“So, he liked watching me puke? He said that? That’s gross.” I play dumb and take another bite. I’m not sure yet which way this conversation is headed.
“Apparently, he liked being here with you. He said so, and my brother doesn’t usually tell me much.” She tries to translate my blank expression but I hesitate before smiling. Inside I’m beaming, but her face looks cautious, or tortured. “Do you like my brother?”
Cyn’s question is a question, but the underlying authority has me worried. As I contemplate the truth, I lick the knife I used to spread my jam with and sit it in the sink.
“Would that be a bad thing or a good thing?” I ask her. I’m in unchartered territory here and I don’t want to threaten my relationship with my best friend over a guy. Especially when the guy is her brother.
“Answer me first. Do you like him?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. She means business.
“To be fair, he did not look like that last year.” He smells so good...
“That’s not an answer.” Her lips press into a thin line.
I put the toaster and the jar of jam away, and with my back turned, I take the cowardly route and answer, “I think I do,” bracing for a harsh reaction.
“Think or know, Sam?” I think I hear an impatient foot tapping behind me.
“Know,” I admit, softly crinkling my nose. I slowly turn around to face her with one eye tightly shut, peeking through my other eye to see her expression.
“What do you like about my brother besides his looks?” Cyn’s eyes narrowed.
She knows I’m not a shallow person, but the question still puts me on the spot. “Last week, I saw him helping the newspaper boy with his bike.”
“What’s that prove?”
“He’s selfless,” I shrug, thinking it doesn’t need further explanation. “He was up early on one of his jogs, saw the boy down the street needing to finish his paper route, but his chain broke or something. Phillip came home and got his truck, drove him around to finish his route and then took him home. And that was after he fixed his bike.”
“Huh. Where was I when all this happened?”
I threw a potholder at her. “Asleep probably.”
“What were you doing that whole time?” She put her hands on her hips. “Actually, how do you know he did all that?”
“I was up early watching the sunrise on my balcony.”
“You’re not a morning person, Sam.” She rolls her heavily eye-lined eyes at me.
“What does it matter? I couldn’t sleep, didn’t feel good or whatever and so I took my blankets out to my balcony. You know I do that all the time.” I grab my school bag and hunt for my purse. “I saw your brother leave on his jog,” I shrug a shoulder, blushing as I looked at my friend. “I shamelessly watched him go up and down our street and then the little boy’s bike thing happened and—” I don’t know what else to say.
Next thing I hear is clap, clap, clap! “Yay!” She smiles so big her face wrinkles around her eyes. “It’s about time.”
“What do you mean?” I quickly relax from bracing for the rogue wave, to full fledge astonishment. I thought for sure Cyn was going to chew me out. She jokes and teases about her brother sometimes, but when it comes down to it, she gets protective.
“You guys have been dodging each other for a while now,” she laughs. “I saw this coming.” Cyn is so triumphantly proud of herself; I can see she almost wants to pat herself on the back for being right.
I walk around the kitchen counter and grab my bag and keys. “Really? It doesn’t bother you?”
“No. I’m happy. Now I won’t feel so bad when Knox and I make plans. You’ll have your own plans,” she giggles.
I allow myself to smile. I can’t believe I admitted it. I said it out loud. I like Phillip Ward. Since I found out I was sick and the potential of my illness, I wouldn’t allow myself the luxury of thinking I could have a boyfriend. I still might not, but it just feels nice for a change to say I like somebody. If nothing comes of it, I’ll accept and be okay with that. At least I’ll have this moment. Besides, knowing Cynthia, she’ll probably make fun of me from time to time for liking her brother, but I’m willing to handle it.
“Cyn, we gotta go, we’ll be late for school.”
Cynthia rolls her eyes. She’s never in a hurry and hates school. Or, at least she tries to make everyone think she hates school. If it wasn’t for Drama club, she’d probably drop out.
“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya.” She opens her mouth, sticks her tongue out and points to the back of her throat with her index finger.
“That’s the spirit, Cyn!” I laugh.
Spirit week is in full swing. As I walk through the halls of Harbine High School, I notice the walls are dripping with posters, saying things like ‘STOMP the GATORS’ and ‘CRUSH GRANDVILLE GATORS’. The poster that I particularly like is a picture of a Hurricane school bus running over an alligator. A large tire tread is down the middle of the gator’s back and the gator itself is squished flat. I take a photograph of that one for the yearbook.
It is TWIN TUESDAY. Most everyone is paired up with someone else. It’s exciting to see everyone with their stunt doubles. One interesting twist I discover is Marcy and Darcy Jones. They are real twin sisters, and for Twin Tuesday, they decided to look as different as possible. I think it’s an inventive idea, so I have them pose. I’m always snapping the shudder of my camera for the yearbook.
On my way to my locker from English class, I notice that Phillip is standing in Coach’s office. I slow my pace because I want to say hello when he comes out, but through the glass window, I can see that maybe it’s not the best time. Most of the other students are passing care-free in the hall, some laughing and some discussing information with their friends. Some students have a serious, concentrated look on their face as they focus strictly on making it to class on time while others still walk diligently with books clasped tightly in their arms, bracing for the unavoidable bumps you absorb in a crowd. The pinball in the arcade game, like I’ve said before. Most don’t even notice what I’m witnessing through the open blinds of the office window. I watch for a moment and notice their muffled voices elevate in volume, while Coach’s face is stern and cold. I can’t make out what’s being said. It’s probably better that Phillip’s back is to the rest of the hallway because when the shouting starts, a few other passer-byes catch on to the heated meeting in the office. A few students point, and several have wide eyes wondering what’s going on, but I decide to go to my locker. I can say hello another time.
Later, my stomach is actually growling for once when I reach the cafeteria. Knox is standing by Cynthia in the lunch line. Their books are already on our table. I go to the vending machine and get a bottle of water to go with the lunch I packed. So far, my stomach is being more than kind since I’m not on the horrible medication today. I don’t want to make it angry by forcing cafeteria food in it, so my packed lunch is a peace offering. I like the truce and want to keep it that way.
When I open my water bottle and take a huge gulp, I hear his voice. “Hey Samantha.”
I don’t know how he manages it, but there’s Phillip with his impossible smile and perfect dimples as he sits down at my table beside me. How did he calm down so quickly?
“Hi Phillip.” I screw the cap back on my water bottle. Instantly I can feel my cheeks begin to burn.
“You look like you’re feeling better today. Are you doing better?” His eyes are genuinely concerned and glistening with hope.
I am feeling better and even more so because you asked, but I can’t tell you that. “I do feel better. Thanks for asking.” I pause a moment, contemplating what to say next. “Are you doing ok?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” Phillip responds like it’s a stock answer instead of the truth. I figure I owe it to him to explain what I mean.
“I saw you in Coach’s office a little bit ago. Don’t worry, you couldn’t understand what you guys were saying. But it didn’t look good.” I feel ashamed. I wasn’t eavesdropping or staring, I just happened to be passing by and saw him in there. I hope he understands that. “I was just walking by and...”
“It’s ok. Coach had something to say, as usual, and I didn’t like it. Same old story,” Phillip explains dismissively waving his hand as if waving Coach off to somewhere far away.
“I’m sorry. It’s not my business.” I can tell it’s still a touchy subject when I mention it. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up. I look directly into his eyes because I want him to know without a shadow of doubt that I’m genuinely sorry for bringing it up.
“Sam, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it.” He’s being polite and passive. Yet, not irritated with me at all. Some kids get rowdy at the next table over, making Phillip laugh for a second. I haven’t seen him smile like that in a while.
“You don’t like football anymore, do you?” This is an observation of mine, but maybe I’m wrong. I’ve known him for a long time because of his sister and looking back, it just seems as though he doesn’t enjoy the game like he used to.
“You can see that? Does it show?” Phillip is a little taken back. Shocked even that I called his bluff. But in a weird way he almost appears relieved too, like I’ve just discovered some ancient secret or something. He flashes his perfect dimples and gleaming white teeth. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Phillip says, looking down at his books before returning his gaze to me. “Both going through something we don’t want to, but have to.”
I think for a moment about this assumption. It’s pretty profound and he’s right. We do have something in common. Both of us are in situations we don’t like and we see no escape from either one.
“I guess you’re right.” Phillip momentarily looks withdrawn. I wish I could read his mind, but before I get lost in his anguished eyes, I smile at him. “I can hack it if you can,” I wink, trying to lighten the moment. He winks back and stands up, grabbing his books off the table as Cyn arrives.
“Glad you’re feeling better, Samantha. I’ll let you guys enjoy your lunch.” Phillip starts over to his table across the cafeteria.
“Bye, big brother,” Cynthia yells as she places her tray on the table. She removed her lollipop and sits it on her tray for safe keeping. Then she looks at me.
“What? He wanted to know if I was feeling better,” I explain, defensively.
“Phillip and Samantha sitting in a tree...”
I pick her lollipop up and shove it back in her mouth before she can finish. I like the idea of me and Phillip, but it’s too tempting to hush Cyn and I laugh doing it.