by Nina Beck
She grabbed her jeans, threw her heels in a bag, and was heading out the door when she bumped into D on the sidewalk outside the building. Literally. Like, planted face-to-face and knocked into him, sending her bag and him to the ground.
“Oh my gosh,” she cried, hurrying to help him up.
“Wow,” D said, “was that as good for you as it was for me?”
Sam gave a disgusted sigh. “Probably not.”
“You’re headed out,” D said, noting the bag and the multiple pairs of shoes. “You’re not pulling a Riley Swain and wearing multiple shoes today, are you?”
“No,” Sam said, stuffing the shoe that D was holding out to her back in her bag. “I’m going dress shopping—these are my trial shoes.”
“Dress shopping?”
“Yes, for the dance…”
“The dance that is tomorrow?” D asked, looking seriously confused.
“Yup, that’s the one.”
“And you don’t have a dress yet?”
“Don’t pressure me!”
D put his arm around her and rubbed her back. “Relax, this isn’t bad, this is fixable.”
Samantha immediately relaxed under the weight of his arm and shifted into his side, then sniffed, “It is?”
“Of course,” D said, cracking his knuckles and rolling up his sleeves. “Do you have funds?”
Samantha pulled her mother’s credit card out of her back pocket.
“Perfect,” D said. “You’ve got the shoes, how about the jewelry?”
“Jewelry?” Sam asked. D sighed softly and Sam cried out, “I should just stay home—I’m unfit for dances!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” D said, grabbing her hand and tucking it under his arm, pulling her down the street. “We’ll start with the dress and accessorize from there.”
“We?”
“Of course,” D said, “unless you want to handle this one alone?”
“No, no, I need as much help as I can get,” she said, but when D turned to face forward, she took a second to study his face and smiled. He really was quite beautiful. He had such blue eyes that were framed by thick dark lashes—making them seem even more amazing than they already were. He was too good-looking for her. Definitely.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, looking at her through the corner of his eye.
“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” Sam said.
“Beautiful? Beautiful is for women.”
“Cute, then.”
“Cute is for puppies and small children.”
“How about handsome?”
“I’ll take handsome if you say ‘beyond any reasonable standard of perfection,’” he said with a smile.
“Don’t go too far,” she said.
He scoffed and elbowed her gently in the side and, while she was pretending he had mortally wounded her, he squeezed her against his side, the two of them stumbling down the street together.
“Let’s grab a tea before you go on your shopping marathon,” D said.
“I only have eighteen hours!” Sam said, checking her watch, but at D’s pouting face, she acquiesced.
They found the nearest Starbucks and Sam hounded tables while D went and ordered them both tea. He carried it back to the table, handing one over to her, and then pulled fourteen Splendas out of his pocket.
Sam smiled and grabbed one.
“So, you’re going to the dance, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “You?”
“It depends.”
“On?”
“Well, on whether or not you’re going to be there.”
Sam looked at him but didn’t say anything. But her knees went a little mushy.
“I’m auditioning for Juilliard this weekend,” he said flatly.
“Oh, wow, D, that’s huge! I’m so excited for you,” Sam cried.
“I mean, it’s not really a big deal. My mom went there,” D said. “So…you know.”
“It’s absolutely a big deal,” Sam said. “Do you miss her a lot?”
“Every day.”
Sam just nodded and then reached across the table and took D’s hand.
“But who knows, right?” D said. “I might be just another talentless hack.”
“Not from what I hear from Riley,” Sam said, taking a sip of her tea.
“Riley…” D started, thinking about what his father said about her earlier. “Riley is different. She’s always been different.”
Sam was quiet for a second and then asked the question she didn’t really want the answer to. “I remember when I first met her, she was kind of in love with you.”
“She thought she was, but then she met Eric,” D clarified.
“That’s right…but…did you…?”
“Did I love her?”
“Yeah,” Sam said.
“Yeah, I did. I do,” D said. “She’s my best friend, I can’t imagine life without her.”
Sam nodded, and for some reason, his answer was perfect. Not at all what she was expecting, but she wasn’t even sure what she had expected.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt about anyone the way I feel about you, though,” he said, causing Sam to sputter in her tea a little.
“What?”
D just looked at her. “I just…” He paused. “I like you. I really like you and I worry about what you think about me and I want you to like me and I want to be so great that you can’t pass me by.”
Sam watched him for a moment, and then he started talking again.
“But I mean, that’s silly…” he said.
“No,” she said. “That’s not silly.”
“I just wish that…”
“Hmm?” she asked, trying to get her pulse to calm down a little.
“I just wish I was the one taking you to this dance. I wish I was the one who had the guts to ask you and to be the one who spent all night dancing with you.”
Samantha didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell him that she felt the same way, that she wanted nothing more than what he just proposed. And yet that wasn’t really fair to Justin, whom she had said she was going to the dance with.
That night Sam went home and pulled out her laptop. She began typing, the words just flowing from her as she wrote a story about a girl who wanted to do all sorts of things she had never done before and a boy who wanted to stop doing all sorts of things he had done before. When she was done, she was so excited that she texted D that she wanted to celebrate and he said he’d be there in no time.
They stood outside (and Samantha was sure that her parents only looked out the window half a dozen times, and she was impressed with their restraint). She was nervous when he said he was coming over. It was late at night and they had just seen each other and she didn’t know what any of it meant. But once he was there, the nervousness changed a little. It was like it seeped into every cell in her being. Her body felt like it was positively buzzing.
“I finished my sample, I think. I mean, not at all. I need to write a lot more, but I think I figured out what to write about,” Sam gushed.
“That’s great, Sam. I’m really proud of you.”
“Proud of me?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’m proud of you for not giving up. You’re an inspiration,” D said, and the two looked out onto the street as an old man walked by with a little old dog. “I’m not really sure how this all works, you know.”
Sam nodded. She was confused.
D was confused too; Sam could see it on his face. He pulled back and looked awkwardly at her and then smiled a self-deprecating smile and let her hands drop. He went to take a step back, but instead Sam—without thinking—stepped into him, held him by the shoulders, and with one hand, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.
Sam kissed him.
On the lips.
Over and over again.
And whatever nervousness she felt had changed. She was happy to be there, happy when his strong arms went around her and pulled her aga
inst him. Happy to feel the way his hand went into the hair at the nape of her neck, while squeezing her gently so she felt like she was wrapped inside of him.
And the kiss.
Boy, could he kiss.
It was the best kiss she ever had. And she had kissed him. Sam was still surprised, but now he was kissing her back—and there was an urgency to it, like he had been waiting and wanting to do this for a long time and finally the chance arose and he wasn’t going to stop for anything.
Sam loved him.
It struck her, as simple as that, as quickly as that.
She loved him.
D AVOIDS DRAMA
D walked home feeling buoyant. He had kissed her.
Well, she had kissed him, if you wanted to be technical about it—but it didn’t matter, there was kissing! He jumped up and down on the sidewalk, causing an old lady to gasp in shock. He apologized, “She kissed me.” And then smiled at her.
The old lady gave him a very dirty look.
But he didn’t care, because Sam kissed him. And he kissed her. And he kept kissing her until it was too late to keep kissing her and until he felt like his entire body was wrapped up in the idea and feelings of kissing her.
He loved kissing her.
He loved kissing Samantha Owens.
He loved her.
That thought stopped D short. He loved her? Could he love her? He barely knew her really…a few weeks, a month, or more? One kiss. Or rather, an hour of one kiss. And he loved her? It wasn’t possible.
He needed to think.
He needed to go to this dance, which he hadn’t been planning on going to at all—Michael D. Hammond III at a school dance? Inconceivable. But when Samantha asked if he was going, he automatically said yes. She had looked so sweet when she had asked if he’d dance with her.
And when—in his head—he answered, I would dance every single dance—even though I can’t dance at all—if only to have an excuse to touch you, he stopped and thought about how Justin was probably thinking the same thing. Which is why he had said that to her, and he had seen her disappointment and felt good about it—because that’s how he felt. Disappointed that she was going with someone else to the stupid dance that he was now dying to go to.
But it was his fault for not asking her. Although he supposed she could have asked him. It didn’t matter now. They had kissed.
But maybe it did matter. Maybe Samantha would be sitting at home thinking he was a jerk for kissing her when she had another date to the dance. Maybe this made it weird and she’d resent the weirdness.
D wanted to stop thinking about this. Crap—was this what women went through? Good luck to them, he thought. He needed to go do something guy-ish. Like yell at the television or start a fire. Whatever, he knew that he’d probably just go home, sit on his couch, stare at the ceiling, and think about kissing Samantha Owens.
It was all he wanted to do.
D felt pathetic.
#14 GO TO A SCHOOL DANCE
The next night Samantha was just finished getting dressed when her brother knocked on her door. She called for him to come in, and he did a low whistle when he saw her.
“Nice dress,” he said.
She smoothed down the front of the black dress with hand-sewn embroidery of dark red flowers along the bottom and over the bodice that was tight against her chest. She covered her bare shoulders with a short shawl. She’d freeze tonight, but it would be worth it. She couldn’t help wonder about what D would think when he saw her. Would he be thinking about their kiss as much as she had?
“Thanks, Andrew,” she said. “I really like it.”
“How much did it cost?”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to ask that?”
“Sure, how much did it cost?”
“Too much, that’s all you’re getting out of me,” she said, smiling.
“Well, you look awesome.”
“Aw, thanks, honey,” she said. “That’s so sweet of you!” She grabbed her younger brother and gave him a big bear hug while he squirmed to get away.
“Gah!” he yelled, escaping her clutches while he smoothed his hair down. “Have fun at the dance!”
“’K!” she called after him as he escaped, letting Riley in at the same time. Riley was wearing a pink and white polka-dotted dress that looked like it was made in the 1950s.
“OMG!” Riley squealed. “You look gorgi!”
Samantha laughed. “Thanks, you look pretty gorgi yourself.”
Samantha’s brother and father ran for cover the minute the squealing began, but Sam’s mother broke out the camera and made the girls pose for several pictures until Andrew called upstairs that their dates were waiting.
“They’re here?” Sam started darting around the room, looking for her bag and grabbing things that she might need that night.
“Whoa there, cowgirl, calm down, we have time.”
“What, we just leave them down there waiting?”
“Exactly,” Riley said, bouncing into her seat on Sam’s bed. Sam watched her for a second before shrugging and perching on the bed next to her.
“We look awesome,” Riley said. “I’m not just saying that because it’s us—I’m saying it because it is true.”
“I believe you.”
“We’re going to have fun tonight.” And then Riley gave her friend a hug.
The two girls went downstairs, where Eric was sitting in a not-quite-suit, but he still looked very handsome anyway. It was a nice reunion for Sam and Eric, who hadn’t seen each other since Sam left New Horizons. And Justin was sitting talking to Samantha’s father—Justin looked way more comfortable than Sam’s father did. But he was attempting to do his fatherly duties, asking who was driving (they would take a cab) and who was drinking (no one raised their hands, except Andrew—which got him a smack upside the head), and then they were leaving.
Sam’s father held her back from the group as the others made their way out the door. “I still expect to meet him before your first big date,” he said to her.
“Huh?” Sam asked, looking at Justin, who had turned around to smile at her down the steps.
“No, not that one. The one that you were all loopy about the other day.”
“How do you know he’s not the one who I’m all loopy about?”
“A father knows these things,” he said gruffly, while she laughed and kissed his cheek, saying that he would definitely meet him.
She walked out the front door, her parents and her younger brother in the door frame waving her away. She followed Eric, Riley, and Justin down the steps to the car that Riley had called to take them to the dance at the school.
Samantha was excited, knowing she’d be seeing D there.
And when Justin leaned over and told her how beautiful she looked, she thanked him, but couldn’t stop thinking about what D would think when he saw her.
D ATTENDS MORE SCHOOL-SANCTIONED FUNCTIONS
D hated school dances. Hated them. Wished them to the devil.
He stood in the center of the room, getting jostled by underclassmen who didn’t know better than to walk around him and give him a wide berth. He saw a few stares in his direction and realized that this was definitely not his normal scene…but it didn’t matter, he was here to see Samantha, even if it was only for one dance. He was going to hold her and dance with her and make an idiot of himself on the dance floor and it was going to be perfect.
“Hammond,” Justin said behind him, clapping him on the back.
D turned around and immediately searched for Samantha.
“She’s in the bathroom with Riley,” Justin said, straightening his collar. “Girls—they need so much upkeep.”
D nodded distractedly, unsure of what to say to Justin now that they were sort of after the same girl. But D knew he’d win. At least he was pretty sure.
“So, you’re out to steal my date, huh?”
“Um…”
“I figured. I saw the way you two looked at each ot
her, even early on,” Justin said, shrugging it off.
“You saw?”
“Saw…?”
“You saw that I liked her?” D asked.
“Yeah, a blind man could’ve seen that, Hammond. Get with it.”
“And you asked her out anyway?”
“Of course I did,” Justin said.
“Why the hell for?” D could barely keep from yelling.
“Kimberly Penington.”
“Who?”
“Kimberly Penington. Seventh grade, blond hair, moved here from Australia and then moved back the next semester.”
“Yeah? I vaguely remember her—what does that have to do with anything?”
“You kissed her.”
“Justin, I’ve kissed a lot of girls.”
“Well, I really liked that one, and you kissed her first.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” D said, getting the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t like what was coming next.
“Well, you really liked Samantha and I kissed her first,” Justin said. “Oddly, though, I really like her—so if you are thinking of screwing it up, just let me know. I don’t mind being the last one to kiss her too.”
“You’re a jerk,” D said.
“Yeah, but I’m the jerk that is with Sam,” Justin said. D looked at him to gauge if he was serious or not; he was, D decided, and he sighed. “Plus, she told me we were only here as friends anyway.”
D smiled. “Sorry I kissed your girl.”
“Don’t worry about it, we’re even.”
D ground his teeth and tried to smile.
“Holy crap, Hammond. Relax, it was a kiss. I don’t think she was even that into it.”
D could barely see straight.
“Really like this one, eh?” Justin asked. “What are you going to do?”
D tried not to say anything, lest Justin decide he wasn’t willing to give up his date after all, but Justin just laughed and said, “Don’t screw it up,” and walked away.
D watched as he approached Marley, who looked bored as usual but agreed to dance with him.
That kid, D thought, was such a weirdo.
