10 - Samantha
Another Monday. Notjust any Monday, it’s the Monday after Phillip Ward kissed me at the Homecoming dance. I have butterflies in my stomach this morning and this time it isn’t from my medicine. I’m nervously excited to go to school.
To see him.
Mr. Compton’s math class goes by rather quickly, which ordinarily is a good thing, but it doesn’t give me much time to peek over in Phillip’s direction. We have a quiz. Eyes on your own paper is not my favorite instruction today. English class drags on and on. I grow increasingly impatient to get to biology class because I sit across the aisle from Phillip. To my relief, he’s looking forward to seeing me as well. He catches me in the hallway and pulls me around the corner from our class room. Other students, especially girls, walk by staring. I can’t help but see their heads turn toward us as they pass by. Phillip stoops down to look me in the eyes where I can see my reflection swimming in his brown irises.
My heart beats faster. He draws his face slowly closer to mine and gives me one light kiss on the lips. Nothing inappropriate for school.
“That was nice,” I admit out loud. He stands up straight with a confident smile, gleaming. “I think you have a few admirers or I have haters. One or the other.” My eyes briefly dart to the side where some girls slow down to get an eye full of our quarterback. They’ve done it most of our high school career.
Phillip maintains eye contact with me. “I don’t have attention for anyone but you.”
I smile, feeling the blush fill my cheeks and bite my lower lip. “We better get to class,” I remind him, though I’d rather skip it and stay in the hall with him for the rest of the period.
“If we must,” he sighs, and places his free hand at the small of my back, guiding me around the corner to biology. His presence is politely territorial as we filter in to our seats. I’m not able to make as many notes as usual because I have difficulty concentrating. Occasionally, I glance over to get a peek of his profile and he catches me. Or I catch him peeking at me. Either way, we aren’t paying close attention to the lecture.
After class, he joins me again as we make our way through the sea of students to the cafeteria. Cyn and Knox are already in one of the lunch lines when Phillip asks me, “What are you having today?”
“I’m gonna grab a salad. I’ll wait for you.” I assumed he would jump in the pizza line with his sister, but to my surprise, he just winks and smiles.
“I’ll get the salads, you get the drinks?”
“Sure. Light Italian dressing please.” I chance a lingering stare as I watch him for a moment walking over to the salad line. I can’t help but admire his frame. I know he’s athletic, he’s on the football team, but it’s more than that. Perfect does not adequately describe him. Of course, this is just my opinion, my personal thoughts, but that’s what’s important, right? My opinion is what matters and I like what I see. About five minutes later, we reconvene at our table. It’s a nice lunch. Cynthia and Knox, Phillip and me. I’m not the third wheel today and it feels good.
After school, when Cynthia is done with Drama club, she goes home with Knox as per usual for a Monday since there isn’t football practice. I ask Phillip if he’d like to come over to my place since I don’t think he has plans. When he comes over, he greets me with a big bear hug, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around.
My feet are still hovering above the floor when our twirl comes to a stop. “You can let me down now,” I giggle helplessly. I knew it was gonna be fun dating a football player. He kisses me on the tip of my nose. He’s so gentle with me, a big difference from what I’ve seen on the football field.
“I’ll give you a tour.”
Phillip’s been inside my house before, but I want to show him there’s more to it than just the bathroom where he held my hair while I threw up, and the couch in the living room where he sat with me keeping me company. The only other time he’s been inside the door is when Roxy had him step in out of the summer heat to get paid for his lawncare services.
First, so we wouldn’t end the journey there, I led him upstairs to show him my quarters. I have the whole upstairs to myself. Roxy let me have it so I can do whatever I wanted. With my right hand, I hold his. My left hovers above the large railing winding around our staircase. Once upstairs on the landing, I turn to the first room on the right.
“This is my studio,” I point out and watch him as he slowly steps through the doorway, surveying the contents. In one corner, there’s my desk where my laptop and photo printer sit. I have stacks of photographs arranged by category on my desk, preparing them for my upcoming Yearbook meeting. Phillip’s careful not to touch anything, all the while remaining very interested. His eyes flicker to the south wall where I have an eclectic array of posters ranging from Marilyn Monroe to Twilight. He circles around, and opposite from my desk, is my Hollywood vanity as I call it. Even though I don’t wear much makeup, I have a vanity that’s trimmed in bright lights around the mirror like you would see in a dressing room. It’s fun, and Cyn absolutely loves staring in it while she dresses up in her many costumes. Lastly, when he makes his way back to me in the doorway, he spots the black and white photographs I have framed of Cyn and me. He pauses to appreciate them.
“Nice.” He smiles leaning closer to one for a better look. His eyes glance back and forth between a few before he says anything else. “I like this one best.” He points a finger and shakes his head briefly. “Yep, definitely this one.” I’m not sure why he likes it, but I save that question for later.
“Behind this door is my dark room,” I point to the next doorway on the tour.
“Do you have any pictures in there now?” He seems to be genuinely interested in the photographs on the wall so he might like to see where they’re developed.
“I have a few hanging. You wanna see?”
“Yeah.” He flashes his wonderful smile and I melt right there. It takes everything I have not to pinch myself. I still can’t believe Phillip’s here with me.
“Ok.” I open the door and we step in. Phillip pulls the door closed behind him as I pull the curtain to the side to reach for the switch. The small room is suddenly flooded by a red light, compliments of the bulb from the hardware store. I have two countertops, one on either side of us, one deep sink, and for all intents and purposes, a clothesline where I have photographs still pinned and hanging. “It’s basic but works great,” I explain, gesturing to the surrounding elements.
“What are these for?” he asks, pointing to the glass bottles on the shelf full of various liquids.
“Each of these liquids go in a different tray.” I point to the four trays on the counter by the sink. “Each liquid is a different stage of the development process.”
“What’s this switch for?” His grin has enough devilish flare that is altogether too tempting.
“Well now, that switch would put us in the dark.” One of his eyebrows pops high above the other and my eyes beg to see what he’ll do next. “I might get frightened in the dark,” I tease.
Phillip slowly reaches for the switch then draws his hand back. “I can protect you,” he assures me. His eyes, slants now, sinister in their own right, making me want to flick the switch myself. I bite my lip in anticipation, and he soon reaches over and turns out the lights.
A few minutes later we open the door and step out of my dark room. It’s gotten pretty warm in there and the way Phillip kissed me, well that should be illegal. He’s a gentleman, but his lips border on criminal.
We continue the tour. “That’s another bathroom, and this is my room.” I stay in the doorway and let him look around. Again, he doesn’t touch anything, just looks at my stuff. There isn’t much to see in here, just the usual inventory for a bedroom. Closet, dresser, shelf, bed, nightstand and TV. I notice he has a question when he looks at my bed but doesn’t seem to want to ask. So, I do. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he answers. Indifferent curiosity traces his voice. “I thought girls liked matching stuff, except for my sister that is.” I have different shaped pillows of many colors and my blankets and comforter don’t match either. I’m more of a comfort girl than one who worries if everything is dainty and matching.
“I like soft, silky and comfortable. And, I don’t like to get cold,” I explain very matter-of-factly.
Phillip’s eyes discover something else that perks his interest. “What’s this?” He points to a homemade poster above my bed. He’s full of questions now.
“Those are the lyrics to “Born This Way,” by Lady Gaga.”
“I recognize the lyrics. I’m just curious why you have them above your bed.” Phillip looks my way in search of answers. “I’m not judging you; I just wonder why those lyrics? Why that song?” Phillip’s expression is thoughtful. Interested. Genuine.
“Well, I have some issues.” I feel the color changing in my cheeks just thinking about it.
Phillip closes the gap between us, reaching out. “Who doesn’t?” He’s quick to interject, probably trying to comfort me.
“Sometimes, your sister sings this to me, to calm me down when I get upset.” I can see he’s intrigued. Ordinarily, music for Cyn is like a mood ring. Anyone around her can usually read her mood by what she’s humming or listening to at the time. “Sometimes I get a little insecure about things and she sings this to me to remind me that I’m perfect just the way I am.” I pause for reaction. Will he bolt? Will he think I’m crazy? Will he want out before things have the chance to get serious? I hold my breath and wait.
“What things? What do you get so worried about?” Phillip places an arm around me.
I fold my arms across my chest, feeling a little insecure at the moment because I’m spilling my guts to my new boyfriend. Only Cyn knows my inner secrets because she’s my best friend and I tell her everything. I don’t have to explain everything day one, but I’ll give him something since he asked. I take a deep breath and begin. “I’m ordinary and I worry about being good enough.” As soon as I say the words, I quickly close my eyes and exhale, holding them shut.
Phillip asks, “Why?” The surprise in his voice is deafening, but I can’t open my eyes. I don’t want to face his expression.
He unfolds my arms and loosely places his arms around me. My eyes open into tiny slits but I won’t look up. Not yet. “If you think about it, my mother gave me up at first concept of me. Roxy couldn’t fathom the idea of a grandchild somewhere out in the world without any contact with them so she made a deal with Stella to let her have me.”
His family has known Roxy as my grandmother ever since they moved to our neighborhood. I realize they don’t know me like Cynthia knows me, but I thought Phillip knew about my mother.
“That’s not so bad, is it?” Phillip says. I’m not sure he really knew what to say. He tries to lean down to connect with my eyes but I’m still not looking. “Do you ever see your mom?”
“I have before, but she’s always on location somewhere and it’s usually not a great experience.”
“On location?” Phillip repeats, confused. I look up and his eyebrows are high above his eyes. He’s puzzled. I thought he already knew about Stella, but maybe not. There’s no turning back now.
“She’s a super model, her famous name is of no consequence, but her real name is Stella. She’s only done two responsible things in her entire life where I’m concerned. Well three, if you consider having me.” Phillip keeps holding me, listening. “One, giving me to her mother Roxy to raise, which in turn gave her custody of me up until my last birthday. I turned 18 this summer before school started.” I look up briefly into Phillip’s eyes. So comforting. “Two, setting up some sort of fund or trust so I’ll always financially be ok. That’s how I’m able to have all the medical stuff I need, besides the normal stuff. So, in the long run, Stella gets her freedom, and I get taken care of. It all works out.” I look up one more time and purse my lips in a pouty way as if I just explained how Roxy was handed leftovers and was ok with it.
“So, you feel like you’re not good enough because she lets her mom raise you?” Phillip puts the puzzle pieces together in his head.
“Yep, some days, which brings us back to the poster. It’s Cyn’s way of being inspirational and besides, I like the song.” Phillip tightens his arms around me and, with his finger curled under my chin, he guides my chin so I will face him. “I’m sorry. I just unloaded a bunch of crap that I’m sure you don’t want to hear.” I try to look down, but again, he lifts my chin so I can look into his perfect eyes.
“You have no reason to feel bad or not good enough.” I know he’s being nice, but my face must have pled for more kindness because he continues. “You are chosen, and that is special. Stella chose to have you, Roxy chose to raise and love you, my sister chooses you for her best friend, and I choose you now.”
My stomach flutters as a smile surfaces. How can he be so wonderful? Here I thought he’d want to run for the hills when I divulged this information and instead, he’s comforting me.
“Thank you, you’re too good to me.” He pulls me close for a warm and reassuring hug. I can get used to these.
“If you’re feeling better, I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“That sounds nice.” I avert my eyes, shy of the way he’s looking at me.
He lifts my chin with his finger. “Why are you suddenly nervous?”
My blues crash with his brown gaze, butterflies going bonkers in my stomach. “I’ve never been asked to dinner before.”
Phillip flashes a smile, his ears turning pink. “I’ve never asked anyone before. So we’re even.”