My Belated Valentines Post- Sam Overload Warning

Note: This blog is not for the romantically faint of heart, A.K.A., if your not into mushy, detailed romance, don't bother with this one, cuz I'm pretty sure you'll be sick.
I take no responsibility for following illnesses, which include upset stomach, an overwhelming urge to roll your eyes, or (in a female's case) the irresistable urge to squeak uncontrollably.
You have been warned. Proceed with caution.


With his lips not even an inch away from mine and not moving, I didn't think breathing was supposed to be even humanly possible, let alone the almost panting that my lungs were somehow managing. I wasn't supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to be here, we were not supposed to be in each other's arms, and we most definetly weren't supposed to be giving each other that look.
You know, that wanton look that says exactly how you feel, and says what you want, but at the same time is screaming 'I know this is SO wrong, so what the hell am I doing?'
It was wrong. I was in love with Mike. I was wearing his promise ring around my neck at this very second. So why, WHY in the good hell was I pressed up against Sam looking at his lips like they were the only thing in the world? Why was it that I wasn't freaking out that I was in his arms, but rather so happy I was finally there?
I had an easy answer for all of the above, I just didn't want to think it. Or let myself think it. But someone like me, always has trouble avoiding whatever I deem the inevitable. And tonight had inevitable written all over it.
Sam and I had spent the day together, and the small sense of foreboding that I had fluttering inside me I stilled quickly, trying to tell myself nothing would happen; I loved Mike.
Okay so maybe stilled wasn't such a good word. I more shot the feeling with an AK 47 then threw myself off the deep end of denial and hoped I would stay there.
In short, I was almost positive that, from the second I agreed to hang out with Sam, something, and I wasn't sure what at the time, would happen.
It was awkward. This was the two of us, who had never ever been alone together, only with friends. But his personality was such that I could still manage conversation, although at times it was subjects barely better than the 'weird weather we were having'.
Sam had really hurt his leg that day, walking around on what I had deemed his grasshopper legs. I wasn't entirely sure of what they were really called, but it was some sort of stilts that you attached to your legs and then proceeded to run around with and look rather odd. He later informed me they were called Skyrunners, and apparently there was a good market out for them. I temporarily considered it a conspiracy by insurance companies and hospitals to get more money out of injuries like Sam's.
Getting overconfident, as he put it, he fell and severly messed up his knee, reducing it to a scraped pulp of bruises and swelling, and making him limp rather badly. So I had become his little human crutch, and liked it entirely too much. When we had been waiting for the movie to start, we had run to DI to get crutches for him, and a piece of me that I so badly wanted to hate but couldn't was sad because he wouldn't have his arm around me anymore.
But it was when we went back to the movies, when he didn't use his crutches to hobble around and instead said that he preferred me, was when I knew something was seriously wrong with me. Because I liked hearing it. I wanted to hear it. I wanted him to have his arms around my shoulders so I could inhale how he smelled and feel that little jump in my stomach.
Then I felt the jump of Mike's promise ring against my chest and my stomach took on a whole new feeling, one that roiled of guilt and betrayal. My heart saw straight through my head's cheap rationalizing.
Once we were in the movie, the tenseness level inside my brain went up a few notches. Nothing happened, I somehow for one second thought that I could live through this and nothing would happen...and then the lights dimmed, he moved the armrest and I was suddenly positioned comfortably in his lap with his arm around me and his head very lightly on mine.
At that point my brain started some serious rationalizing, saying it wasn't cheating UNTIL you kissed and things generally along that strand of thinking. I didn't half as much out of the new Mummy movie as I could have. Well, I did get Sam's smell..and his fingers on my skin....
After the movie we meandered out of the theater, and I could feel my stomach tensing when he put his arm around my shoulders so he could stop limping. But it wasn't the bad sort of tense I knew it should be, and I half-hated myself for it. The other half of me had devil horns and was readily accepting what was going on. I did my best to suppress that piece of me.
"Where do you want to go?" I mentally rolled my eyes when he asked. Sad place about where I lived. There was, without a doubt, absolutely nothing to do at all, ever, anywhere, besides going to the mall, concerts, and the movies.
"Surprise me, because I can't think of anywhere."
He turned up Lil' Wayne, Lollipop, and I laughed, thinking of the memories that were attached to that song. My friend had blown a tire flying over the railroad tracks not even a month ago right when that song had come on the radio.
We blew out of the parking lot, and I rolled down the window, taking in the warm air for more than enjoyment sake; I needed to calm my nerves. I almost touched my thumb and forefinger together and thought 'Zen', but just felt too stupid, and knew I would get weird looks.
Dusk was settling in, and I was wondering if this was the night that I was going to start missing my curfew again; I just had a sinking feeling tonight would be a long one, and I wasn't sure why. Understanding my feelings didn't seem to be a priority for myself at the time.
Sam took the Highland/American Fork highway, and we were soon down by the Mountian Ridge Junior High. He turned into the parking lot by a little park, and turned off the car. There were a few teenagers on the grass a little ways away from us, and Sam chuckled when he saw them, saying "Never mind us, just go back to what you were doing."
I, on the other hand, had just thought, "Hey look, they had the same idea as us." Before I was reminded that Sam was NOT my boyfriend, and we were in no way going to copy their actions.
Sam wandered over to the double slide that had a divider between the two of them, and laid down, his feet hanging off and tracing designs in the sand. I copied him, lying back to look at the sky, with it's random swirl of clouds and deepening blue color, the stars really starting to twinkle.
On a whim, I started interrogating him about his past. Until he was sixteen he had been every teens true vision of rebel. Not a black mark was on his record though, and his parents didn't have a shadow of a clue. It all struck me as ironic; here was a boy that had broken a massive list of known laws that were persecutable by time in Juvenile Hall and more lasting punishments, and here I was, totally unable to even get away with sneaking out. I smiled briefly as I thought that I could learn something from this genius master liar.
But there was a total other side to the conversation, the unspoken one. The one that was all about body language, feelings repressed, and a whole slew of other things. While I asked him about his past, I was singularly aware of the present, how close we were, how my skin felt supersensitive every time he brushed against me.
Somewhere in our talking I had given up on myself just a little bit and taken his hand in mine, running my fingers up and down his arm, feeling the hidden network of veins just under his skin. His hand was warm, abnormally so, or maybe it just felt like that because of how much of my own hand it encompassed; it was like wearing a glove.
The clock was running fast, and whereas it was only ten thirty when we had arrived at the park, it was suddenly an hour later and creeping onward. Sam sat up, my hand still in his, and I stayed lying down. He turned at looked at me, then looked away, back out at the trees surrounding the park. I sat up too.
Sam had something about him. Whenever he was thinking, thinking hard, you could tell, because it was all over his face. He was by far the easiest person to read that I had found, and right now I could see the conflict very clearly.
"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" I asked in a playful tone. He didn't answer me for a moment, continuing to look out at the trees. Then he did, and I saw the puppyish sadness in his eyes.
"Your Mike's." Was all he said.
While my brain did a round of 'I told you so's' I laughed and said "Yeah, I figured it was that." Now how to open a conversation on what your thinking, Sam, that's what I want to know.
He kept turning toward me, and turning away, then looking back, often moving forward before dropping his head and moving his gaze. He had his arm around my shoulders, and I cuddled into his neck, my bangs over my face in order to prevent him turning my head enough to kiss me. He dropped his own face next to mine, and kept looking at me, I could tell.
I was pretty sure the same thing was going through his head; this was wrong. It shouldn't be happening. But all the feelings were there, the chemistry, the want, the like, it had all fallen into place like an intricate display of dominoes, set off at just the wrong time.
I could feel the chips fall, as my self resolve did also. I couldn't count how many minutes we sat on that slide, me trying as hard as I could not to look at him, to not give him the chance to do exactly what I wanted him to do, yet didn't.
After a while, I laid down again, and he leaned back on his elbow. I purposely tilted my head right, up toward the open expanses of sky, but I could very clearly see him looming over me, eyes raking across my face, occasionally leaning forward then withdrawing. It was like watching someone reach for a live wire, the curiosity drawing them, but the real danger right there before their eyes. And a live wire was a pretty good comparision for how I was feeling right now.
"I'm not looking at you for a reason, if you can't tell..." I was letting him know that he wasn't the only one having issues, it was just as much him as me.
I was playing with his hair, and while he looked out at the soccer field, I mussed it, and giggled under my breath. He stayed how he was, and I put my hand on his cheek to turn his face to fine.
"Come here." A split second after I said that I realized what something like that could mean to Sam, and me, in this situation. And I was right. When he turned to me his eyes were lit up and he moved forward just a bit, but my hands held his face, and I continued playing with his hair, making it stand on end as much as I could. I focused on that, while he focused on my face, running his fingers down my thigh for a split second before moving them.
He leaned over and put his hands on his face.
"This isn't how it is supposed to be. I am supposed to be going after some ridiculously available girl, and your supposed to be with Mike," He turned to face me. "But here I am, liking the most unavailable girl there is, who is my best friend's girlfriend, no less."
I cocked my head, listening. "It's ironic, I'll admit. And I am supposed to be with Mike, be happy, and not even be here, but yet I am, probably wanting the same things you are right now, and denying them just like you."
I moved to sit up as he laid down again, figuring it would be better to stay away from vertical for now, it left me a bit vulnerable for his snap of self control if and when it would come.
I turned to look into the sky, searching for my favorite constellation, the Big Dipper. It had so many memories attatched to it, that I loved it, and it killed me to look at it sometimes. But tonight the clouds hid it from view, and I pouted, for lack of anything else to talk about.
"I can't find my stars..." Beneath me I saw Sam lean up to kiss my neck, lie back, move again, lie back, then move so close I could feel his breath on my skin.
"I should move, shouldn't I." I met his eyes for the first time in a while, and he held my gaze.
"You should. I should. I should want you too. But I don't."
"Wow, just like I know that I am not going to leave. I think we are hopeless."
" I think we are." He took my hand again. I stood up and wandered over to what used to be swings, but was now just the bare skeleton of such, no swings attatched. He walked over to me after a minute, still watching me, and I searched for a change in the tension between us. It had lessened only fractionally, so pretty much it was still the same.
I meandered pointlessly across the playground, climbing up the stairs onto the bridge that was strung out across the two major parts of the playset. I was in the middle, and he was still on one side, arms on either side of the bridge, just looking at me.
He was beautiful. Tall, taller than Mike, which made him at least six feet. Wide muscled back, arms, had a very nice but dark fashion sense. His jeans rode low, held up by a black studded belt, the studs themselves black with red spotted across them like someone had thrown paint across the belt. His T-shirt was a regular black one, with no symbols or designs on it, and showed his muscular upper arms.
His jaw was strong, and more on the angular side. He was clean shaven, and his nose led up to dark eyebrows that were thin, but still boyishly bushy, although not too much so. His hair was short, black, coming down to almost the middle of his forehead, wavy. I had seen brown highlights near his roots earlier and figured he dyed it, and I later discovered I wasn't wrong.
He was eyeing me again. pouting, considering, arguing with himself. He moved, more limped toward me, and stood not even three inches away, looking down at me. I allowed myself to smile up at him, then look away, only to look back. His lips were thin, but not unattractive, quite the contrary, they were inviting.
He sighed. "It's like a war in my head going 'Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her', then the other side going 'No, no, no, no, think of Mike, don't do it'. Then it goes back to 'JUST KISS HER ALREADY'. And it's all just too easy!"
His exclamation surprised me. "What do you mean?"
"Well think of it like this. I am probably the ONE person that Mike would trust you with. You know it's true. And I am his best friend so it's like...he just wouldn't think of it."
He was very right on that assumption, and I nodded.
"Geez, it's almost completely unfair, isn't it."
"Totally." He whined, looking down at me. I met his gaze strongly this time. My devil side was getting tired of the games. It wanted me to flirt, to make him move closer to me. It wanted the satisfaction it had been starting to crave for a while now.
My eyes flickered between his for just a second longer and I swung my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
"This is sort of my compromise when it get's too hard to not kiss you." I laughed into his ear. I pulled away, but he moved his arms around my shoulders, locking his fingers loosely behind my head. He placed his forehead against mine, and tilted his head. All I could do was stare at his lips, watch them move closer, and then stop, only a fraction away from mine. Then he shifted away again, growling at himself, only to glance back at me, passive outwardly, inwardly jumping. He hugged me lightly.
"Nessa..." He groaned in my ear, his voice filled with inner aimed remorse.
"Yeah.." My tone mimicked his; I honestly felt like shit because of what was going on, even though I was doing nothing to stop it.
"This shouldn't be happening..I shouldn't like you, I shouldn't want you, I should go want to date someone who is actually single, not my freaking best friend's girlfriend! Just...ah...fuck.."
He rested his forehead on my shoulder, his hands tracing my back.
"I know, trust me, Sam, I know. You said that earlier." I laughed at the reminder. " I should not have feelings for you, we never should have gotten into this situation..."
He looked up at me again, his eyes pleading. "But it's not fair.." The back of his fingers traced down my cheek and he leaned forward again like he had been doing all night, then at the last second moving away and swearing at himself under his breath.
"I don't--well, this doesn't make much sense, but I don't blame you, okay? I understand what your feeling..like I said, I am just like you. Neither should want this yet...here we are." I shrugged under his hands, looking into his eyes, still filled with remorse.
He was still only inches away from me, and I just returned his frustrated and anguished stare, hoping the calm in me would transfer to him. I was a little better at holding a reign in on emotion; I wanted to let him know it was okay.
Inside I was reeling.
His eyes were reflecting the street lamps as he moved toward me from where I stood leaned up against a pole near the slide. His stance was different from before, resigned, yet determined. I was literally cornered, but didn't mind.
"Nessa....." he whispered, his voice still holding the tone that made me know that he understood this was wrong. His hand roughly cupped my cheek, and he leaned forward. I felt the slightest brush of his lips against mine, but we still were not kissing each other. My arms were wound tightly around his waist, and he had one hand at my back.
I had spent the whole time with him focused on one thing, and now it became forefront in my mind.
I would not be the one to kiss him. He absolutely had to kiss me first, just so I could have my own peace of mind that it wasn't entirely my fault, only half. It was ridiculous....but still.
I heard him catch his breath ever so slightly, our lips brushed again, and he finally gave up, after two hours or restraint. His hand knotted at the bottom of my shirt and he full on kissed me, his tongue brushing against my bottom lip.
We both inhaled at the same time, so there was about one second of total silence. In that one second I told myself not to go crazy over the butterflies that were roiling in my stomach, and spreading to the rest of me. Only within the next second, his hands were brushing against the skin of my waist and my arms were around his neck, fingers tangling in his short black hair.
They say forbidden kisses are always the best.
They are also right.


Part Two: I love you


Across the lake I could see the firey colors of the fireworks exploding, reflecting dully in the water. His fingers at my back were a cool sensation, one fist against me holding his phone as the cold tip of a Sharpie traced across my skin under the bluish backlight glow.
The wind was blowing only a little bit, making my shorter bangs blow across my forehead. I moved my hair out of the way to make sure Sam could still see, then held very still and just observed. Lightning made a constant white flash from behind the mountains, but the little rain we had earlier was come and gone, the clouds now echoing the distant rumbles.
"How's it look?" I asked after a few minutes of feeling the pen against my back.
"Almost...done." He blew on the redrawn airbrush tattoo I had gotten earlier, and used my phone to take a picture. He handed it back, and as I admired it, he put his legs around me and pulled my back into his front, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me close. His face was right next to mine, and I could hear him breathing. I gently pressed my head against his, and he did too, then kissed down my neck and slowly across my shoulder blades before squeezing me again.
"Nessa...I want you to be mine..." He muttered, in that sweet tone that was filled with the puppy dog look I knew he would be giving me if I was facing him.
"I know, you...." I sighed, then glanced down at my phone. "We need to go. Mike is at Timberline."
He huffed behind me, then whimpered, falling onto his back and sprawling across the grass to look up at the stars.
"I don't want to.."
I knelt over him, staring down at his face, admiring, and smiling like I was crazy. He brushed his hand across my cheek and I caught it between my shoulder and face to kiss his palm. I saw the smile go across his face out of the corner of my eyes, and felt his hand move to the back of my neck to bring me down to kiss him gently.
"If you keep that up we will never leave." I tried to scowl, but all it did was make him laugh and kiss my neck, clearly trying to convince me that was the better idea of the two.
My hands ran over his wide shoulders and I hugged him with him half on top of me, breathing in deeply, inhaling his scent. I swear if it was a drug I would have been addicted. Not kissing him at this point seemed almost inexcusable, so I remedied the fact and turned his face to mine as he leaned over me. I casually swung my thigh over his leg, and he moved closer as his tongue traced over my lips.
I always had such a hard time not smiling when I was kissing him. He made me so happy, compared to the hell I had been slowly going through for three weeks. The constant sickness. Not sleeping, stressing, worrying all the time. Then he had come out of nowhere.
I had to smile when I thought of just how quickly it had all happened. Four days, that was all. It was some sort of chemistry I had never experienced. It was all right there, right from the first time he had kissed me, and it was still holding just as strong as ever. I could feel myself getting better every second more that I spent with him.
He pulled away, and his eyes flickered between mine, a grin spreading across his face. I couldn't not smile now that he was, and I muttered, "What?"
"I just can't remember being this happy for such a long time. I really can't." He put his forehead against mine. "Your amazing." You could hear his sincerity all over his voice, feel it in his hand as he ran it down the side of my face before kissing me again.
Pulling away seemed like a sin as he drew me closer, but I knew that I had other obligations to meet, more specifically to my 'boyfriend', who I was intending to strip of said previously mentioned title. I paused. That sounded harsh even inside my own head.
Quite suddenly my sickness returned, whereas it had been gone temporarily since we had left his house. It hit me harder than I expected, as I thought about Mike in general, how tonight would go, and what I would do if he somehow negotiated past the break up, made anything I said pointless, leaving me with no reason to leave him.
I was reminded of a quote rather suddenly. "Don't give up something you love for something you like." I was sure that wasn't how it really meant, but the base of the saying stuck with me, and I considered myself for a moment, eyes roving the dark, shadowed trees.
Was I giving up Mike, the boy I loved, had wanted to marry for about three months now, had put myself through hell for and had sworn to be with forever, for Sam, who was simply a promise of happiness, be in long lasting or just temporary.
Sam and I had nothing. Nothing but the past few days together that had been wild enough as it is, and confusing at that. We had never really talked before, or had any sort of relationship beyond a 'Oh, you hang out with my friends so I just see you around and we chat and exchange pleasantries" type deal.
My stomach chose that moment to twist painfully, and I thought about how Sam was the only person I had found that got rid of that feeling. The illness that had haunted me for about a month now, constantly. He was the only one that could hold me and kiss me and make it just fade into the backround for however long. I had noticed how I clung to Sam because he was like my lifeline of happiness in a string of events that was leading my mind into some kind of constant spiraling despair.
Seeing how he acted around me, so sincere, he wasn't lying, he wasn't faking, and he wasn't playing me because he wanted to get something from me. I was starting to believe that he really wanted to be with me. More than just temporary.
(A few days later.)
I knew the seemingly drug-induced bliss I had been floating in for about a week now couldn't last, no matter how bad I wanted it to. The last time that we had been together, the entire day, I was tense and unsure of what to say, or what to do. The whole day I was stuck roiling in my own head, being so confused about whether or not what I was doing was right, or logical, or even possible anymore.
We walked around a lake when the day was turning to twilight, and the silence that seemed to be my fault and inability to fill was growing louder and louder inside my own head, until I wasn't sure I could bear it anymore. After finding a park and meandering around aimlessly, we finally drove back to his house. I wasn't sure what I was doing, and was contemplating thinking up reasons for going home early, until I walked inside.
His whole family was sprawled in the living room, only one sister of his actually on the couch. His mom was lying on the floor, with his little sister Celeste and Amanda nearby on the fireplace. Hannah was at the computer, and his little brother Eli was hiding out inside a giant box. The only sign that he was inside was that the box kept collapsing on top of Celese on random occasions.
Sam's dad was leaned up against the couch slowly reading out of a large book of scriptures, the print exploded for better visibility. Everyone paused momentarily when Sam and I walked through the door, and I, for a second, had no clue what to do.
His mom looked up at us, then at Sam.
"Come join us for a moment, won't you?" She guestured toward the couch, and Sam took the hint and sat down, his sister Sarah scooting to the far left, Sam on the far right. I wound my way through the tangle of legs and people littering the floor and sat down, to find Sam's arm around me pulling me into his shoulder.
I had pointedly refrained from any physical contact above the norm with Sam in front of his parents until that time, unsure if they were the type of people who heavily protested a public display of affection with their kids at home, or anywhere really.
He ran his fingers casually up and down my arm, and I saw his eyes looking at the words on the page his dad was reading from, trying to find where he was, then giving up and drifting off.
I could feel him occasionally chuckle as Eli fell over again and again, and I felt suddenly very much at home. No one was looking at me, everyone had their eyes closed or were staring into space. I wasn't disliked here, matter of fact, I was on good terms with everyone, and Sam a little more than most. I found myself smiling, and I let my head fall back onto his shoulder. His rested immediately on top of mine, and his hand tightened on my arm momentarily.
I resisted the urge to close my eyes, I was suddenly so peaceful.
I had ten minutes of contemplating as his father slowly read, his low, animated voice the only sound in the room besides Sam's breathing in my ear and the occasional shuffle and shift from the other occupants of the room. Something here was different.
I thought about it harder as I leaned my head back into Sam's shoulder.
His family was so different from mine. I was in the Mormon religion, didn't like it, never really had. It was social pressure mostly, and in the past five years I had fallen away almost completely. I had no interest in their teachings, or their rules for that matter, I had attained such a total disregard that it often times got me into trouble for not being more attentive to basic right and wrong.
My family didn't get along. My brother had been sent away by my parents the beginning of his junior year, because he had become, supposedly, 'wild, and out of control'. It wasn't a far cry from the truth, but the punishment didn't fit the crime in my opinion. He had since turned out very much for the better, finding his niche in religion, and in himself, and had successfully repaired the ruined relationships between him and my parents. In the end, he had become a well off Marine, everyone enquired about his progress, he was the upstanding, wonderful boy that my parents could finally be proud of.
Issue Number One was solved. Issue Number Two was me, the unsolved one.
I didn't like my parents; our relationship was one that was based on a day to day, must speak basis. I pushed away, they clung on tighter, it was a basic teenage angsty relationship. I didn't like it, I didn't enjoy it, but at the same time I didn't care enough to try and change it.
Sitting, watching Sam's family all in one room, being able to coexist with love as a family, or even just coexist without self destructing for that matter, honestly made me sad inside. I was seeing peace and happiness among people who lived together constantly, something that was not listed in the job description I called my home life.
It hurt to watch. I couldn't put an exact name on the emotions I was feeling, but I was settling for dissatisfied and unfulfilled for the moment. I squeezed Sam's hand and tried to turn off my brain to save myself unneccessary sadness.
Sooner than it had started it was over, and Sam took my hand to lead me downstairs, asking me what movie I wanted to watch. I had decided that movie watching in his basement would be one of our more base activites; we would be doing it on more or less a regular basis, when there wasn't a more important event going on to amuse us.
We stopped in the kitchen to get him something to drink; his house was rather small so it really wasn't much of a detour, if one at all. His dad walked past us to go downstairs, and Sam watched him with the cup to his mouth.
"Hang on for a second." He turned and sauntered down the back hall to his room, emerging seconds later with a blanket emblazoned with our school name and logo, Lone Peak High School, around his neck.
"Let's go outside." He smiled at me as he cuddled into his blanket. I grinned up at him.
"But it's cold."
"I'll get you a jacket." He put his hands on my face and kissed me gently. "Cutie." He was talking in his almost baby voice, the one he got when he was really happy about something, generally me.
I could feel myself about to start blushing, so I covered by giving his chest a slight push back in the direction of his bedroom. When he came back he had a gray sweater over his arm, and he held it up.
"This is probably the most preppy piece of clothing I own." I could see the Aeropostale tag sewn on to the back just below the neck, and realized that he was telling the truth. He wasn't one for name brand anything, minus clothing from Hot Topic.
He pulled it over my head, and I put my arms through the sleeves, coming down all the way over my knuckles. It smelled very strongly of him, and I had to resist putting the arms up to my face and inhaling as deeply as I could. I settled for hugging him, which was just about the same.
"Come on.." he whispered in my ear, and I had to let go of him so he could walk out the back door only feet from us. I followed him, watching his broad shoulders, one of my favorite things about him. I couldn't explain why, but they gave me the feeling that he was strong and could keep me safe, which I liked.
He threw the blanket down on the ground and laid down, patting what little was left beside him. I tried to get comfy, but it was really hard since I barely had any room; the blanket was very small. One second I was squished up next to him, the next his arms were around me and and we were both lying on our sides facing each other. His face cracked into a childish grin, and he moved to kiss my forehead. He then proceeded to crush my ribs in a hug I figured would suffocate me, but actually just gave me an extra dose of his heady scent that I loved so much.
Cuddling into him, I couldn't resist the smile that flickered across my face, and did nothing to suppress the sigh of contentment that escaped my lips. Moving to stare up at the stars, I suddenly had a sweep of emotion, a very mixed twist of things. Here I was completely happy, ridiculously so, and at the same time, Mike had come to mind. He had an uncanny way of appearing inside my head at the strangest and most unexpected times. I figured it was because I was looking at the stars; that was how he and I had spent most of our time together before our break up.
But then my train of thought was interrupted by my phone going off on the grass next to me. Hinder, Lips of an Angel. Think of the devil and he shall call. It was Mike.
"Hold on for a second, okay?" I rolled so I was facing away from Sam and answered.
"Hey!" I tried for enthusiasm, but heard only suppressed pain and confusion in my own voice. Apparently Mike had lost his ability to read me just as he had predicted, because he caught none of it.
"Hey you, what you up to?" His voice was low, calm and quiet. It hurt to think that was the voice I had loved for seven months, unconditionally, and now had nothing to do with, by my own decree. It had been, after all, my final decision to break up with him. I knew things would improve in both our lives it we did, and I had been right, but that did nothing to soothe the sting I tried so hard to repress. If anything it was another cut to add to the original wound. Try ignoring someone cutting your jugular vein and then suddenly getting reminded of it and realizing the severity. Similar comparison.
So I applied pressure.
"Nothing much, just outside looking at the stars. Emily texted me last night and said there was supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, so here I am." I wasn't lying, just editing, or more neglecting to mention my company that currently had his arm slung over my waist and face buried in the back of my neck.
"Oh really. I guess I will have to stay up tonight to watch that. So how've you been?" His voice still carried the slight hint of what it had used to, that inflection of caring and love that one always has for their partner. But for the most part he was aloof and detached. Another hurt to bear.
"I've been..." My brain pressed the fast foward button on all the emotions I could have named. "Alright."
"Just alright?" There was that caring tone again. I was already searching for reasons to get off the phone with him.
"Yeah. This hasn't all been flowers and happiness for me you know." I laughed hollowly, but again he missed the off-tone I had carried ever since I had picked up the phone. "What about you? I talked to Megan earlier, she said your doing better..."
"I guess so. Yeah, I am. I have my kitty now." He was smiling, and in the backround I could hear the faintest of purring, which meant that his four month old kitten Shade was relaxing in his arms.
"You know you have to show her to me eventually." My brain rolled it's eyes at the impossibility of what I had just said, but for the sake of conversation I had to say it.
"Then get up here and I can." It was an old conversation. 'Come see me even though I know you can't, even thought we would be shot, just do it anyway, even if you have no way to accomplish this.'
"Me and my invisible car." The classic answer. I had been banned from the car twenty four hours after my parents had found out about...well, ever since Mike's mom had called and informed them of exactly what Mike's grandmother had seen upon walking into his bedroom unnannounced. Hooray for losing your caution and paranoia.
I felt Sam move, and imagined that he was getting restless with the current goings on. I knew that underneath it all, his jealousy sense had to twinge just a little whenever Mike called while I was with him. Which was almost every time without fail.
"Can you hang on a second?" I asked Mike, and when he said yes I promptly muted the phone and faced Sam.
"Give me an excuse to get off the phone, please." I really didn't want to keep talking, because of the totally bizzare reason of, I really wanted to keep talking. I wanted to talk to Mike for four hours and finally break down and tell him I loved him madly and get back together with him and leave Sam. And all the common sense factors in my brain told me that would be the most pointless, selfish, disaster-inducing action I could engage in at this point in time.
Sam's eyes glittered for a second, then his hand slipped up to hold my cheek and he kissed me, hard. I kissed him back, and he responded so ardently that I was momentarily caught off gaurd and forgot about the phone lying in my limp hand on the lawn. My hand was in his hair and I was kissing him back just as hard before I even could really gauge what was happening.
I tore my lips away from him suddenly, leaving my neck exposed to him while I muttered softly, "Okay, now give me an excuse."
He leaned over me wickedly for a moment. "Tell him your busy." Half on top of me he trapped my resisting hand by holding my wrist and pinning it to the ground. The other hand was still preoccupied with the phone, and was thusly down for the count in this fight of will.
"Because he will take that so well." My last word was slurred a bit as he kissed down my neck, half biting my skin. I saved myself the torment, and cheated my way out of seduction.
"I'm unmuting the phone now, behave." I smirked at his expression of defeat, then brought the cell back to my ear and apologized to Mike.
"That's fine, I was playing with Shade." My brain unvolountairly tacked on a 'and I didn't even notice you were gone.' I decided that was enough.
"Hey Mike? I have to go, my mum wants me to call her and tell her what's going on, I may be sleeping over at Megan's tonight, so I have to work things out so I don't get screwed for just dropping off the face of the planet."
"Alright. Want me to call you later?" Momentary hesitation.
"If you'd like. Well...yes. Yes, if you'd like." I clamped my lips shut. Enough of making a fool out of myself. By leaving an open invitation, I knew I was safe, and by doing so I had also pin pricked my heart; I knew for a fact he would not call me back.
"Okay, talk to you later, buh-bye."
"Bye..." I hung up, his voice ringing dully in my ears. I was always so good about suppressing everything that was Mike until he called. At which point, my heart started it's out of pace stuttering and a shadow of the month long sickness I had endured while being apart from him fluttered across my stomach.
I plummeted inside myself, and the sickness got stronger. I needed all that was Sam to get me away from that. So I rolled back to him, kissed him as hard as I could, then nuzzled deep into his chest and concentrated on his deep, dully thudding heart beat, and the whooshing of air leaving and entering his lungs. It was a constant, a peace to my mind.
My distraction worked. He kissed the top of my head and held me, almost totally oblivious, I was sure, of how I was feeling. Sometimes I wondered if having such a fast acting emotional sheild was healthy for me, but then decided yes, it was, because without it, I would be floundering in the pool of depression that occasionally found me alone and unaware.
"What did Mike want?" It was a purely curious question; Sam and Mike were nothing short of best friends. Which is why this situation required so much lying and had so many problems in the first place.
"Just called to say hi pretty much, it's not like we really talk about anything anymore, never anything to talk about."
"That makes sense." It was a noncommital answer. I wasn't hiding anything from him, about what had been said, just totally disregarded my constant inner dialouge.
After lying in silence for a few minutes, I was back to normal, and smiling slightly again, hearing Sam breath in my ear, and then grinning when he slung his leg over mine and cuddled closer. Obviously he had no problem with being stuck to me for no reason other than he wanted to, which was what I wanted, too.
I was just staring at his face, tracing it's planes, and his forehead above his eyebrow with my fingertips when he opened his eyes to look at me.
I loved his eyes. They were gold, honest and truly gold, at least in most of the center. The outer edge was browner, but the gold was always there.
"I love you."
Heart. Stutter. Stop. Restart. Breathing engage.
"Is that the first time you've ever said that to me?" It wasn't the traditional answer, but I needed it answered nonetheless.
"No, actually. I said it to you the other day at your work, before I even realized what I was doing. I was so confused when I got back to my car," he chuckled, "I sat there and thought about it forever before I left."
Inside my head I was yelling 'HAH! I KNEW IT!!!'
That day had been so out of whack, and then when he had kissed me goodbye and his hand was slipping out of mine, I had heard him mutter something that sounded so much like 'I love you' that I spent the next half our while our delivery driver was out trying to convince myself that was most definetly NOT what I had heard. 'See you' sounded the same, so much the same that I felt like a complete moron for having replied 'I love you too'. It was a knee-jerk reaction, you hear it, you say it back.
I quickly came back to the present, making sure I hadn't been silent long enough to be considered spacing.
Smiling slowly, I moved my forehead to touch his. "I love you too."