by Maya William
“Well, how awkward”—Father Gomez chuckles—“because I personally turned him down,” he says without any regret. “You see, we implemented a policy for attendees to bring their student IDs, for security reasons, and the ID your son brought wasn’t his.”
Mrs. Tribecca snaps her mouth shut, whatever retort forgotten.
“I politely asked him to go back home and get his own, but he never returned.” He rubs his chin. “Such a pity he missed the party. All the kids enjoyed it tremendously. By the end, they were constantly asking me about next year’s event.”
Mrs. Tribecca crosses her arms and gives Father Gomez a fake smile.
“But the good news is that the earnings from the event exceeded our expectations. Instead of helping one school, we’ll be able to aid two and cover the cost for the Christmas decorations, so the church doesn’t look drab, as you so kindly put it last year,” he says with a toothy smile on his face.
“Well, how exciting to know the event surpassed your expectations,” she replies, changing her tone of voice to a friendly one. “I would ask that for future events, if this situation ever arises again, that you give me a call, and I will vouch for my son.”
The priest throws his head back and laughs. “Mrs. Tribecca, why go through all the unnecessary trouble when your son can bring his own student ID?” he answers politely. “Now, if you would please excuse me, I don’t want to take up any more of your precious time. Your husband and son seem ready for brunch.”
He points to where her family waits for her. When her head turns to look at them, he practically makes a run for it.
“Samantha!” he calls to me excitedly, stepping closer after basically ditching a fuming Mrs. Tribecca. “How lovely to see you better.”
“Father Gomez, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me,” I say, “and for the rest of my family and friends.”
“Nonsense, Little Dove, I love to help and get help in return,” he replies with a big smile. “It was a win-win situation. Although, I believe I got the better end of the deal. After the show you all put on, I look forward to hearing what ideas you’ll come up with next.”
I chuckle.
“Now, I hope you already told your family about the bump incident?” He lifts his eyebrows, focusing his gaze on the aforementioned injury.
Thankfully, an extra day helped reduce the size and color, and the new bangs add an extra layer of concealment. “Well, I couldn’t exactly hide the evidence yesterday.”
“Be careful not to get hurt any more, Little Dove,” Father Gomez says. “Now, you should go. I still need to deal with my car. I can’t go around town with such a sign on it. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Yeah, I get it. I wouldn’t like to sport that word on my car, either.
An idea pops into my head, and I glance at David who sits close to me. After all, he designed the beautiful mural that decorates the church.
“David.” He turns toward me. “How well do you paint?”
He fixes his eyes on the floor. “Mom says it’s one of my strong suits.”
“Have you ever painted something on a car?” I ask.
“No,” he immediately replies, but his body turns, facing where Father Gomez and I stand, a sign of his interest.
“I like your idea, Little Dove.” Father Gomez steps closer to where David sits. “Would you like to give it a try?”
David’s head snaps up, and he gives a slight nod with a millimeter smile.
Options
After dropping David off at his house and driving home, my confidence about my driving increases. While Archie pointed out the streets are emptier than usual, it helps to know I can do this on my own.
Once home, I work on my laundry and finish my homework. I study part of the Spanish vocabulary and put a small mark above the words that give me problems, hoping Samuel can clear my doubts.
Later, I work on next week’s menu, call Anakin to place the grocery order, and determined a time when he can deliver it. For some reason, he insists on bringing it tomorrow rather than today like he usually does.
Not knowing how my week will turn out, I take advantage of my time alone in the house and prepare a lasagna to freeze for another emergency. With no witnesses, no one can tattle on me and my secret stash.
After checking the available items in the fridge, Chipotle Chicken fajitas, rice, and guacamole ends up on today’s menu.
Don’t want those beautiful avocados to go rotten.
At six o’clock, Archie messages me that they’re heading back home.
I set the table and work on the final details.
By the time I take out the tortillas to heat them, they all arrive.
“Have I told you how much I missed you these last couple of days?” Archie comments the moment he steps into the kitchen and smells the air.
I laugh out loud, knowing deep down he did.
“Stop lying,” I tease.
“What’s cooking?” Joy quickly steps into the kitchen, lifts the lids of the pots, and gets her answer. “Yummy,” she states when she identifies the fajitas. “Hmm… Looks like somebody’s in the mood for some Mexican food. Archie, we get to taste the fruits of Samantha spending so much time at the Solis household.”
Holy guacamole, she’s right!
“I don’t have a problem with that!” Archie declares the moment he sets eyes on the bright green mixture. “However, those good old days will soon end when Samuel leaves.”
“No, they won’t!” I snap at him. “Unless Miranda or David don’t want me there; otherwise, you’ll face an encounter with the wooden spoon if you plan on keeping me away.” I raise the spoon menacingly.
“But-but-but,” Archie whimpers, “don’t you miss us?”
I snicker and remove the tortillas from the package, putting them in the oven to warm them. “Go wash your hands. I’ll be serving soon.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Archie and Joy answer quickly with military salutes and disappear from the kitchen.
“And bring in the rest of the troops!” I yell, knowing they’re still within earshot.
Once the tortillas are heated, I cover them to keep them warm before I put them on the table. I stop when I catch Samuel silently staring at me from the living room.
“Hi, stranger, I didn’t see you there.” I step closer, noticing something strange in his expression. His face looks hard, yet his eyes look sad. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” A corner of his lip goes up. “It’s just nice to know you plan to visit them, even if I’m not there.”
“Well, I know your mom won’t allow me to skip Thursday’s family dinner.” I giggle, remembering yesterday’s threat before leaving her house. “Or David. He constantly likes to remind me of the time I missed it when Abigail grounded me.”
Samuel throws his head back and laughs, the smile brightening his face and my heart. “They’ll be happy to know.”
The silence grows between us; he keeps staring at me, as if with yearning. My heart and hormones don’t mind at all.
“Fajitas! Fajitas! Fajitas!” Joy comes down the stairs, chanting happily, followed closely by Kellan, Barb, and Abigail.
“You know, you’re spoiling them,” Barb declares when Joy rushes to the dining table with a wide smile.
“It’s Sunday.” I lift my shoulders and quickly drop them.
Archie arrives and immediately sits next to Joy.
The rest quickly reach the dining area, and we join them.
“Well, it’s dinner time.” Archie rubs his hands together. “My stomach’s grumbling, and we need to be quick so Samuel can go home and pack.”
The words hit me like a sucker punch, all air abandoning my lungs.
We talked about it, even joked a few minutes ago. But it always sounded like something distant. Now, reality comes crashing down, our time together slipping through our fingers before Samuel leaves us.
Before he leaves me.
I glance over and find him staring at m
e.
My heart thunders, shouting with every thump. I’ll miss you.
Sadness reaches his eyes. He takes my hand below the table, out of everybody’s view, and gives it a small squeeze, as if answering the unspoken confession. I’ll miss you, too.
From the moment I wake up, a dark cloud seems to follow me around, lurking at every corner.
Not a good omen for the start of a Monday.
My mood doesn’t improve when people continue commenting about the costume party, and it turns out I fall in the minority of individuals who didn’t attend, right next to the troublemakers and bullies.
Yeah, we all know which group I belong to.
“Hi, Sammie!” Darcy arrives at our lab table, a little bouncier than usual and her face beaming.
“Hey, Darcy, what’s up?” I ask, her good mood managing to slightly improve mine.
“I can’t believe it,” she squeaks.
She reminds me of a time-bomb, barely holding it in, ready to explode with some fantastic news.
“Zach just asked me for a date tonight,” she confesses.
No way! As in Zach, my brother?
“Hold on.” I put my hand up to stop her. “You need to tell me everything.”
“When I arrived at school, clumsy old me managed to trip over my own feet and landed mere feet away from Scarlett Kirk; you know, the girl from my swim team,” she explains.
Oh, I know who Scarlett Kirk is! What I didn’t know is that she was on the swim team.
“Being her usual, queen bee self, she talked about how dumb the party turned out to be and how everybody who attended was such a loser,” Darcy continues. “Although, I think she said it out of spite because she couldn’t enter.”
Well, technically, we put her on the banned list.
“Then, she spotted me and began telling all her friends about a lame video she watched on YouTube of the show and made fun of the way I sang.” Darcy’s hand goes to her hair, and she combs her ponytail with her fingers. “All of a sudden, she began doing an off-key impression of my voice, shaking madly.”
Ah! Jealousy at its best.
Anyone who attended the party can testify Scarlett lied, because Darcy totally killed it on stage.
“My legs froze as a crowd gathered around her, and some of her friends pointed at me. I felt impotent.” Darcy’s smile disappears, and her voice momentarily fails her, as if she’s suddenly transported back to the hall.
“But then, out of nowhere, the sound of a guitar interrupted Scarlett. To my great surprise, Archie was playing it, with Kellan snapping his fingers. Everybody quieted down. Then, Zach broke through the crowd, clapping. Every eye was on him instead of me.” She chuckles, remembering.
The whole image has me on the edge of my seat. Some girls from ballet told me they thought my brother was handsome, and, unlike me, his amazing singing voice can be quite charming.
“He began singing a song from Olly Mur’s Dance With Me Tonight, changing the lyrics to personalize it while scanning all the girls around the crowd. Scarlett’s face lit up, excited when he singled her out,” she explains. “My heart, of course, dropped straight to the floor. After the dance on Friday, I had my hopes up a little. But then he focused on me, and in front of everybody, he continued singing while Archie and Kellan backed him up.”
“And?” My eyebrows shoot up, excited while internally hating myself for missing the whole show.
“He sang, telling me he wanted to dance with me tonight.” Darcy sighs dreamily. “This time, I didn’t mind the attention and a few jealous stares, including Scarlett. By the end of the song, your sister brought out a board with a message written on it that said, Just please say yes to him.”
Abigail helping Zach? No way.
“Mom turned out to be the cherry on top. She came over to break up the show,” she giggles, “but instead of putting it to an end, she ended up stopping the rest of the teachers,” she brags, making me laugh as I picture Mrs. O’Flannagan. “When Zach finished, he got on one knee and asked if he could take me on a date tonight and…to the school dance!” she shrieks.
Wow, to the school dance as well?
“Please tell me you said yes?” I demand.
“Are you nuts? Of course, I did!” she replies immediately. “I never imagined somebody doing anything like this for me…ever. Especially, something so cute.”
“I’m really happy you’re going,” I reply honestly, “and with my brother, of course.”
“You’re going, right?” Her face falls when I shake my head. “What? No way. Sammie, you better go. Samuel can still ask you.”
My face falls at this, the sucker punch returning at the reminder. “Uhm, he’s not going to be around for the dance. In fact, he’ll be away for, like, three to four weeks.”
“No! That’s crazy. What about school?” she asks in a hurry.
“Miss O’Flannagan, as much as I’d enjoy knowing why Miss Melbourne will not be attending the dance with Samuel, I’d rather start my class, if you don’t mind?” Mr. Kaster, our Chemistry teacher, tells her.
Color rushes to my face, and my eyes focus on the floor, too embarrassed to look our teacher in the eye for the rest of class.
By lunchtime, news in the cafeteria runs wild, talking about the way Zach asked Darcy for a date. A lot of girls follow my brother with their eyes when he walks to our table and sits next to us, joined by Barb and Kellan while the rest sit at their usual table.
Barb talks excitedly about their double date, suggesting ideas of where they should go.
“Excuse me, Samantha?”
I turn to find Knightley standing behind me.
My eyes go from one side of the table to the other, expecting another Samantha to pop up behind me. Although my impression of Knightley from the first day changed significantly, most of the conversations we have in ballet class revolves around the moves, the choreography, or the weather.
For him to address me at lunch hour feels kind of strange. “Uhm, hi?”
“Can I talk to you?” His eyes go to the rest of my friends who stare at us.
I glance at Darcy, whose eyes widen as if saying, duh, yes!
“Uhm…sure.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Privately?”
My brother’s eyes scan him from head to toe.
Barb touches his arm and gives him a nod, as if saying, He’s cool.
“Okay.” I rise while Knightley pulls back my chair.
He guides me out of the cafeteria, toward one of the empty main halls.
“Thanks, Samantha. Hum… How are you?” he asks awkwardly once we’re alone.
My breath quickens. “Fine, thank you.”
He buttons and unbuttons his school blazer, then clears his throat. “I didn’t see you at the Friday party… I mean… I saw the dance you did with Samuel, which was beautiful, but… um… I didn’t find you afterward.”
Okay?
“I wasn’t feeling well and left early,” I answer, not wanting to tell him about my close encounter with a car mirror.
Thank you, Barb, for the bangs.
“Oh? I hope you feel better,” he murmurs and flinches. “Uhm, of course, you feel better, you’re here.” He takes a sharp breath. “Oh, God, I really suck at this.” He smiles nervously, making him more handsome, especially when his cheeks turn pink. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to go to the dance with me? I mean, hopefully, you won’t be under the weather this time around.”
I bite my lower lip, not knowing how to answer. A part of me feels honored about being asked by somebody outside of our group, but then again, Archie already asked, and I still owe him an answer.
Ugh. I want to go to the dance with Samuel, but…
My brows draw together, remembering Portia’s words. “Aren’t you supposed to go with Anya?”
Confused, he shakes his head. “Uhm, not that I recall.”
Jeez, I also suck at this. Nicely done, Samantha.
“Well, uhm, you took me by surprise,”
I confess, momentarily stumped by two hot guys asking me. “Is it all right if I get back to you later with an answer?”
“Okay, then, I’ll be waiting for it.” He steps away. “Just don’t take too long.”
I nod and return to the cafeteria, noticing a lot of questioning eyes going around, including Archie’s.
When I reach our table, Darcy stares at me, eyes wide. “What did he want?”
My eyes go from her to Zach, Kellan, and Barb, unsure I want to share the news until I make up my mind, when cheers from another table make me turn.
At the one where Knightley sits, every one of the guys loudly congratulates him, as if I said yes. At the speed gossip travels in this school, by the end of the school day, everyone will assume he’s taking me to the dance. This bothers me because it feels like he put a mark on me to avoid any other guy asking me out.
“He invited me to the school dance,” I tell them, quickly turning toward the table where Archie sits.
“And?” Darcy asks expectantly.
“I told him I’d think it over.” I glance at Archie who now stares at me.
His table’s not far away from Knightley’s, judging the big production they make in cheering for him, their voices easily reach Archie.
Oh, Big Guy, he probably thinks I said yes to Knightley.
Archie raises an eyebrow, silently asking me.
I’m such a terrible person. Quickly, I stand from my table, grab my backpack, and rush out of the cafeteria.
Once in the hall, footsteps follow me.
I turn and, surprise, surprise, Archie walks toward me.
He stops when he reaches me. “My lady?”
Oh nuts, I can’t.
My hand flies up, palms out. “I didn’t say yes.”
His eyes narrow, analyzing my answer. “And yet, you didn’t say no.”
Why does he have to be so perceptive?
“It’s just…” I stop and sigh.
How do I tell him I’m waiting for the impossible?
His unexpected laughter vanishes my nervousness and replaces it with annoyance.
Can’t he see how hard this whole situation is for me?
I turn on my heels and walk away.
