For a moment the world stood still. Her lips on his—breathing as one. And then they let go and lost each other in a kiss that transcended all others. It spoke of undeclared love and compassion, and longing. It promised trust and faithfulness. And above all, it was pure—untainted with any motive other than their hearts’ honest desire for each other.
When they pulled away they were breathless. It was Hannah who spoke first.
“Cody, I want to be here for you. Whatever decision you make, I’ll stand by you.”
“I don’t know what to do, Hannah. But I can’t live with all these lies anymore. It’s killing me.”
“Then let it out.”
“How?”
“I have the video. I got Harrison’s whole confession on camera.”
“How did you manage that?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I don’t want any secrets between us,” Cody pleaded, gently tucking back a stray hair from Hannah’s face.
“Harrison set up a camera in the car. He planned to record his conquest,” she said softly.
“Hannah? Did he hurt you? Because I swear—”
“No. But I think he would have if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”
Cody’s hands shook as he placed them on either side of Hannah’s face letting his forehead rest against hers. The anguish on his face was excruciating. His whole body trembled with the strain of the night.
“It’s okay,” Hannah soothed gently trailing kisses over his cheeks and eyelids. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Hannah, if I lost you . . .”
“Shhh . . . I’m right here, Cody.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Tell me what to do. How do I fix this?”
“I say we share the video. Now, before Harrison has time to cover it up.”
“But . . . what about you. You’re on the video too.”
She nodded.
“I don’t want to drag you into my messed up life.”
“I think it’s too late for that,” she smiled running her hand through his hair affectionately.
“True.” He sighed. “So you really think I should do this?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“I think the best thing you can do right now is follow the rules.”
“Rules?”
Hannah smiled shyly. “A very wise man once taught me three important rules to success. Be truthful. Do what I say without question. And work quickly.”
Cody laughed for the first time since they arrived. It was good to hear the familiar sound. “You know I was really just winging it, right?”
“Turns out you were pretty spot on.” Hannah replied. “Listen Cody, the decision has to be yours, but if you want to do something about this I think it has to be now. Or you run the risk of Harrison covering his tracks.”
Cody’s jaw twitched with apprehension, but he nodded. “You’re right.”
Hannah opened her clutch and pulled out the tiny camera.
“Are you sure about this?” Cody asked.
“Cody . . . I’m all in.”
He kissed her forehead and took the camera, adeptly connecting the Bluetooth to his phone. He uploaded the video to the Stanton student page and stared at the file for a long time. It was eleven minutes and thirty-six seconds long. That was the time it would take to change his life forever.
“I don’t think I can press post.” Cody handed the camera to Hannah. “Can you do it?”
“Let’s do it together,” she offered.
They climbed up onto the hood of Cody’s car. Hannah shivered in her tattered dress and Cody draped his tuxedo jacket over her shoulders. Then, they linked hands and pressed post.
47
Hannah and Cody lay back against the windshield, snuggled in each other’s arms staring at the sky. Once the video went live, Cody’s phone exploded to life. He switched it off and kissed Hannah softly, gazing into her eyes. “I guess you were right.”
“About what?”
“Practice does make perfect.”
Hannah laughed, leaning into his kiss. “We’re far from perfect.”
“I can live with that.”
“Me too.”
Epilogue
An official investigation was opened after Hannah’s video caught the attention of law officials. It turned out everything Harrison said was true. Well everything except for the fact that he always won. This time he lost. And he lost big time.
Harrison and his father were both convicted of fraud and sentenced to prison. The investigation revealed even larger cover-ups in the Cohl family. And Mr. Cohl was indicted on several charges.
Cody’s record was expunged and he received a huge settlement from the state for being wrongfully accused.
After graduation—where Hannah gave an epic speech about leaving juvenile pettiness behind to forge a new path into a future open with possibilities to become your best self—Hannah and Cody took his settlement check and chartered a sailboat for a month long adventure. Just the two of them, Custard and the sea.
And a world of infinite possibility.
The End.
To my readers,
I want to personally thank you for taking the time to seek out this great little indie book. Writing is truly my passion. I believe each of us can find a small part of ourselves in every book we read, and carry it with us, shaping our world, our adventures and our dreams.
Following my dream to write frees my soul but knowing others find joy in my writing is indescribable. So thank you for your support and I hope your enjoyed your brief escape into the magic of these pages.
If you enjoyed this story, don’t worry, there’s plenty more currently rattling around in my rambunctious imagination. Let me and others know your thoughts by sharing a review of this book. Reviews help shape my next writing projects. So if you want more books like this one be sure to shout it from the rooftops (or social media.) ;-)
- Christina Benjamin
PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW HERE
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2017 by Christina Benjamin
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown Atlantic Publishing
Version 1.1
May 2017
To all my Irish girls, especially Nana.
Prologue
Rule #1: Friends don’t kiss.
Rule #2: Friends don’t lick each other.
Rule #3: Friends don’t shop for underwear together.
Rule #4: Friends absolutely don’t fall in love.
Rules are amazing. Rules keep order. Rules set boundaries. Rules are absolutely necessary for boy/girl friendships. Rules are not meant to be broken. The problem is some people aren’t very good at following the rules. Even the ones they make. Especially when it comes to boys.
These are Samantha Connors’ rules. And she broke every single one of them . . . well, almost.
1
Sam
“Sam, it’s a long flight. Are you really not going to talk to me the entire time?”
Samantha Connors flipped her thick brown hair and gave her father her best icy glare before returning to stare out the window from her comfy first-class seat. There was nothing to see but clouds. She turned up the volume on her ear buds and closed her blue-green eyes trying to force the tears back as she listened to Adele wail unjustly. Adele was always Sam’s go-to songstress when she was upset. Listening to Adele lyrics was like crying on the inside—just
how Sam liked it, so no one could see her pain.
But some things were too big even for Adele to remedy. And Ireland was one of those things. It’s not that Sam had a problem with the country. She actually thought Ireland was quite lovely. But she didn’t want to move there. Not now. Not when she could finally see light at the end of her teenaged tunnel.
It was her senior year of high school and her father had destroyed it by making her move with him to Ireland. She’d fought him every step of the way, which wasn’t like her at all. Sam and her father usually coexisted without much friction. But Boston was Sam’s life! And he’d taken that from her—basically giving her a license to behave like the angsty teenaged daughter she’d never been.
Sam had begged her father to let her stay and finish out the school year so she could graduate with her friends, but what little good that did. Here she was, sitting on a six-hour flight to Dublin, with only Adele to keep her company.
Her father scratched at the graying temples of his wavy brown hair and fidgeted with his glasses before tugging gently at Sam’s left ear bud until it came free. “Are you still mad at me, honey?”
She scowled at him. “You think?”
“Sam, listen. I know you think moving to Ireland is the end of the world, but once we get there, you’ll remember how much you used to love it.”
“Dad, I was eight the last time I was in Ireland. I used to love Barbie and karaoke. But I’m not that girl anymore. I’m seventeen. I’ve grown up. When are you going to see that?”
“I’m not blind, Sam. I know you’re not a little girl. But I still want you to be part of this family.”
“Dad! There’s only two of us. I’m pretty much a founding member of this family. That’s not going to change. But I want to make my own decisions, start my own life. You have to let me be an adult.”
“You’re almost an adult,” her father reminded her. “I still get to call you my little girl for ten more months.”
Sam blew out a frustrated breath, rolling her eyes as she shoved her ear buds back in. ‘Almost’ was her father’s favorite word and every time he said it, Sam pictured herself choking him in various ways.
I’m almost done working, Sam—she was wrapping her computer cord around his throat.
I almost made it to your soccer game, Sam—she was unlacing her soccer cleats to tie around his neck.
I almost got you a puppy, Sam—a leash would make a good noose.
I almost bought you a car for your good grades, Sam—stuffing her report card into his mouth would do the trick.
But that was just her father. He’d always been that way. ‘Almost’ really meant ‘never’ when he said it. And he never followed through on his promises. Until he did.
I almost care that you don’t want to move to Ireland, Sam, she thought bitterly. Of course he hadn’t said that, but he might as well have.
And for as many times as Sam fake-strangled her father in her mind, she didn’t really mean it. She loved him, in her own weird-teenaged-daughter kind of way. Her father was all she had. Growing up, he’d been forced to play both father and mother to her, and he’d done a good job.
Sam’s mother died when she was eight—that’s why they’d moved from Ireland to Boston to begin with. Her father never remarried. He never even dated. He pretty much buried himself with work, occasionally lifting his head enough to raise her.
Sam knew she wasn’t being fair. Her father was actually pretty great most of the time, and so was their relationship. They cohabited rather effortlessly. Her father was reasonable and Sam was flexible. She was allowed to date, just not get too serious. She could go out on school nights, as long as he knew where she was. He didn’t police her fashion or friends, so she chose them wisely. He gave her free reign on the Internet. That started when she got her period. Sam thought her father was going to shrivel up and die when she started asking him questions about tampons. “Why don’t you Google that, honey?” had been his response.
And last year, Sam’s father even told her he didn’t have a problem with her drinking after prom—knowing that’s what everyone did—he just made her promise not to get in the car with someone who’d been drinking.
Her father always told her he was happy to treat her like an adult as long as she acted like one. And that worked for Sam. Her best friend, Megan, repeatedly whined about how strict her parents were. “I wish they could just be chill, like your dad.”
But sometimes, Sam thought she wouldn’t mind being parented a bit more. Her father couldn’t spend a lot of time with her because his tech firm kept him busy. But it was hard to be mad when she knew he only worked so hard so he could send her to the best schools and give her everything she wanted—well everything except for a car and a puppy—and he’d probably been right that she didn’t really need those things. Boston had great public transportation and with Sam’s sports schedule and her father’s work, neither of them were really home enough to take care of a puppy.
Sam knew her father did his best. Losing her mother wasn’t easy on him either. He never talked about her. And after a while, neither did Sam. She reasoned that they both were just trying to make things easier on each other. Perhaps that’s why he was so easy-going and she was so mild-mannered. ‘Don’t rock the boat’, was pretty much the motto for their relationship. And it was perfect, until Ireland got thrown in the mix.
Ireland was ruining everything.
Sam tried every possible option to get out of it. She tried reasoning, she tried yelling, she even tried crying hysterically. But nothing worked. She felt like a heat-seeking missile and Ireland was the only thing with a pulse for miles.
But there wasn’t much Sam could do about it now. She was already on the plane. Short of finding a time machine or an independent fortune, Sam wasn’t getting back to Boston until she graduated from high school. But by then, it would be too late. Her friends would have already moved on and forgotten about her. Well, maybe not her best friend, Megan Fields, but everyone else surely would. Especially Sam’s almost boyfriend, hunky lacrosse player, Ryan Kennedy.
Sam didn’t have many regrets in life, but Ryan was one of them. She’d flirted back and forth with him for the past year, but she never really felt a rush to move past that. She liked keeping her options open. It never seemed to bother him either. Ryan seemed happy with their random hookups at parties.
Sam’s mind wandered back to the last conversation she’d had with Ryan.
“So you’re really moving to Ireland?” he’d asked.
“Yep. Are you gonna miss me?”
“Do you want me to miss you?”
“I want you to want to miss me.”
“Well, I’m certainly going to miss this,” he said kissing her with way too much tongue.
Sam had been thinking about giving Ryan even more than kisses to miss, but Megan interrupted them. Sam forgot she’d invited her brazen best friend over for packing and pizza. Sam asked Ryan to stay and join them, but he politely excused himself. She really hadn’t expected him to stay—packing wasn’t something an almost boyfriend did anyway.
“So, are you dating him or not?” Megan asked when they were alone, trying to pull her glossy black hair into a ponytail—it was still too short from the trendy bob she got at the start of summer.
“Almost.”
“You can’t almost date someone, Sam. Either you are or you aren’t.”
Sam rolled her eyes at her best friend. “Well, I’m moving so it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Of course it does! Do you want to date him, or not?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I do. But sometimes it just seems like too much work.”
“Work? I don’t think falling in love is supposed to be work. It’s supposed to be something you can’t help but do,” Megan said dreamily.
Megan was a hopeless romantic and it always drove Sam crazy. Mostly because Sam was more hopeless than romantic. She took a big bite of pizza and frowned at Megan. “How are you such an
expert about love all of a sudden?”
“Hey, I’ve had seven boyfriends, I’ll have you know.”
“Book boyfriends don’t count, Meg.” Megan was also a giant book nerd—probably where her hopeless romanticism came from.
“Says you!” Megan shot back indignantly. “But seriously, you need to figure out what you want, Sam. You can’t just go around almost loving people.”
“I don’t do it on purpose. But Ryan is impossible. If I knew he loved me it would be different. I mean, I can’t tell if he actually likes me, or just likes trying to get in my pants.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I feel like I interrupted the whole getting-into-your-pants scenario,” Megan replied sheepishly.
“It was probably for the best. Getting hung up on Ryan right before I move to Ireland doesn’t seem like the best idea.”
“Yeah, you need to keep your options open for all the hot Irish boys!” Megan swooned.
“Why would I do that? I’m coming back to Boston as soon as I graduate.”
“You say that now, but you might end up falling for some gorgeous prince!”
“Meg, I’m moving to Dublin, not Cinderella’s palace.”
“I’m just saying, you never know.”
“Well I do. I’ve been to Ireland before. The boys are exactly the same. The only difference is they’re all named, McSomething or O’Somebody and they call soccer, football.”
“You forgot about their sexy Irish accents.”
“The only accent I wanna hear is a wicked good Boston one,” Sam said, with thick Bostonian diction. “Besides, I’ll be back before you know it.”
Now it was Meg’s turn to roll her eyes.
“Seriously Meg, the first semester always flies by, and who knows, maybe my dad will see the light by then and let me come home. But if not, I’ll be back by summer. Nothing has to change.”
The Boyfriend Series Box Set (Books 1-6): YA Contemporary Romance Novels Page 16
