“I’m fine.” LIE. I really didn’t want to get into how much I hated Samantha and how I really just wanted to avoid anything to do with her. But, I knew in order to explain myself, I’d have to go into the whole story of Dane Wesley and relive that horribly embarrassing moment over again. I didn’t want to face his reaction—whether or not it was filled with amusement or compassion. It didn’t matter anyway, as soon as the English project was over, I was sure our interactions would be minimal, if at all.
“I know you’re not really friends with Samantha,” he murmured, scratching his head. “So, the whole study session is whatever for me. We don’t have to go to her house.”
“It’s fine, really,” I replied softly, managing the best smile I could muster. Micah seemed content with my answer, but I wasn’t sure if he entirely believed me.
Micah turned to take his seat at a nearby desk. I couldn’t concentrate as Mrs. Tenner droned on and on about the importance of classic literature and how it has shaped the world, and all the influences the written word has had on our culture. My mind was fixated on the night before, and the time spent with Micah in his car. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me with those dreamy eyes of his. And then the pang of Samantha’s invitation hit me. Was she hoping to get with him? Was she planning to humiliate me again?
I glanced at Micah, who was doodling on a page in his notebook. Was he thinking about last night, too? Or was he just thinking about the project? Probably neither. He was probably thinking about lunch and wondering if pizza was on today’s menu. (You know, priorities.)
The period bell startled me. Almost robotically, I started to pack up my things.
“Can I walk you to your next class?” he offered. “I just have history next, and Mr. Hunt doesn’t really care if we’re late.”
My eyes shifted up. There was Samantha, watching us, hanging on our every word.
“It’s okay,” I replied, zipping up my backpack. “I can find my own way to class.”
MICAH: So…ur avoiding me again and I don’t get why.
MICAH: R we going to ur friend’s house? Yes or no?
I had avoided Micah. Because he would be able to see through any front I put up and would call me out, just like he had at the library.
MICAH: What did I do?
I stared at my phone. I felt so bad. He didn’t do anything. My insecurities and Samantha Walters were the ones at fault.
CHARLIE: Yes, we can go. We could use the help.
CHARLIE: I’d like to see what the others are doing. Can you pick me up?
MICAH: R u actually going 2 b home if I show up?
CHARLIE: I’m not avoiding you, Micah. I’m sorry.
MICAH: If u say so.
CHARLIE: Be here by 6:45?
MICAH: Fine.
MICAH: U sure ur not mad?
CHARLIE: I’m not mad, Micah. I’m promise. I’m sorry!
MICAH: Fine.
CHARLIE: Fine.
MICAH: fiiiiinnneeeeee.
CHARLIE: FFFFIIINNNEEE.
MICAH: Feisty.
CHARLIE: Forgiven?
MICAH: ;)
CHARLIE: Be on time.
MICAH: Demanding 2 huh? ;)
CHARLIE: Be sure to bring your R-rated screenplay with you.
MICAH: O snap. I was gonna bring the safe version.
MICAH: But if u insist.
CHARLIE: LOL!
MICAH: C u soon ;)
“Rules”
Jayme Dee
I SAT ON THE FRONT porch steps, waiting for Micah. My stomach felt as though someone were squeezing it tightly. I was nervous, but I didn’t know what about, exactly. Keeping the imagined visions of Samantha and Micah making out from my mind, I tried to focus on something simple—like my phone. Micah wasn’t really her type, was he? Daan Scott was the kind of boyfriend she’d wanted since the first grade.
I hadn’t been to Samantha’s house in years. I didn’t know how it would feel to be there again. The Grand Am pulled into my driveway and I got up. As I slipped inside, Micah looked at me.
“You look awful,” he greeted me. “You sure you’re okay?”
My eyes scanned over his appearance. He wore a brown leather jacket, white T-shirt, and a pair of jeans. His dark locks were combed back, out of his face.
“I think I ate something bad,” I lied.
“Are you sure you’re up for this? I mean, we could just work together here, if you’re not feeling well.”
Micah Jacobs in my bedroom? One wrong word to the wrong person, and I’d be known as the sleaze of Grand Lakes. No, thank you.
“It’s really okay,” I said. “I should be fine.”
Micah turned up the sound dial and the soft melody of “Open Arms” by Journey filled the car. I grinned to myself as I looked out the window. In seeing this side of Micah, a side he didn’t seem to show to anyone at school, I had been given a secret gift. I gave him directions, weaving us through the outskirts of town, to the large home where Samantha lived.
Samantha’s parents worked for a small, private law firm and made a lot of money, thanks to divorces and child custody cases. As Micah pulled up into her driveway, he lifted his eyebrows.
“This is where Sam lives?” He turned the car off and let out a deep sigh.
“Are you actually nervous?” Micah Jacobs was fretting over going inside a big fancy house?
“Yeah, I mean…what if I break something?” We both laughed. “It would take me my whole life to pay for it.”
“You’ll be fine. Come on.” I tugged on the sleeve of his brown leather jacket and opened my door. Micah followed behind me as we walked up to the front of the house. We were instantly greeted by Samantha and a few familiar faces from class. Jennifer lingered just over her shoulder.
“So glad you guys came!” Samantha squealed, beckoning us inside.
I could feel the knots in my stomach as I stepped in, locking glances with Jennifer. She instantly began with a string of demanding questions as she approached the two of us. “You CAME with Micah Jacobs? He DROVE you? Are you two DATING?”
She left no room for me to ask why she was there. Unlike the majority of our classmates at Samantha’s house, she wasn’t in our English class.
“We’re all working on our projects down in the basement. I have snacks and stuff, and my daddy just called for pizza,” Samantha cut in with a soft giggle.
Daddy. Of course, Daddy bought everything.
“Sounds great,” Micah replied with a smile. We followed the faint sound of the Top 40 countdown music down to the basement where I recognized a few other faces from English class. Surprisingly, I found Daan in the corner of the room, with a pile of printer paper around him. I assumed Samantha dragged him into helping out on her project. He gave a nod in my direction and I lifted a hand in acknowledgement. Everyone else was either busy writing down ideas in their open notebooks, or tapping away on their laptop keys. Samantha came up behind me, leaned in close to my ear, and whispered, “I’m surprised you actually came with Micah.”
“He’s my partner,” I explained.
Samantha smirked. “Oh? Is that all he is?” She moved to one of the side tables, which held an arrangement of cheddar potato chips, pretzels, nachos, salsa and sodas.
Micah trailed in, following me. “Where do we set up?” he asked.
I chose a seat apart from the others and got straight to business.
“So, we need to finish writing the screenplay. Once we do that, we can worry about the logistics of filming.” I jotted our names at the top of a sheet of notebook paper. Micah agreed with a nod. He pulled a pen from his pocket and clicked it between his thumb and forefinger. Together, we began to write the last few scenes, concluding the story of Victor Frankenstein, his sweetheart Elizabeth, and his monster. Micah suggested character dialogue, and I jotted the lines down in the notebook. When we reached Eliza
beth’s death scene, Micah stole the notebook from me with a devilish grin.
“Let me see what you’re going to write,” I insisted, and tried to snatch the paper from his hands.
“Nope,” he laughed and held the handwritten screenplay over his head. “Trust is a beautiful thing, Charlie.”
Before I could reply, Samantha cleared her throat loudly, addressing the roomful of classmates.
“The pizza is here! Come eat up!”
Micah winked at me as he closed the notebook and shoved it into the corner with his jacket.
“We’ll talk about that part later,” he promised and stood up. “Let’s get some grub.”
The coy smile on Samantha’s face as she ogled Micah from the table was enough to make me lose my appetite. Trying my best to appear unbothered by her flirtations, I grabbed two pieces of the cheesy pizza.
“We should all play a game,” Samantha said through a mouthful of pizza as she sat down on the floor with everyone. “Maybe it’ll help us focus on our work.”
“How is that gonna help?” Daan asked, reaching for his cup of soda. “Focusing on work and playing a game are two different things.”
“Don’t be a spoil sport,” Samantha whined with a smile.
I lifted my slice of pizza, entranced by the aroma of cheese and pepperoni. Screw games. I was the stepsister in Ever After. I was there for the food—clearly.
“What game?” Micah chimed in, and stuffed his mouth with chips. Samantha looked as pleased as a kitten with a fresh dish of warm milk—or a cat that had just trapped the largest mouse.
“Well, I thought we could play Never Have I Ever or Bloody Mary. You all choose.”
“Aren’t we a little old for ghost story games?” Jennifer quipped, looking annoyed. Samantha shrugged, delicately biting into her pizza.
“I’m just naming suggestions. I thought it could be fun.”
“I’d rather play Never Have I Ever.” Micah’s lips quirked. “Or we could play Would You Rather. That’s pretty fun, too.”
“That, let’s do that,” Samantha said, snapping her fingers. “That’s perfect.” She put her plate down beside her and brushed her hair over her shoulder.
I glared at Micah for the suggestion, still chewing my slice of pizza. Maybe if my mouth is full, they’ll skip over me.
“So, who wants to start?” Samantha asked.
I looked down at my plate. This was good pizza. Maybe I should just grab the box.
“Fine, I will.” She sounded a little irritated. “Jenny, would you rather fly in an airplane or cruise on a ship?”
Jennifer looked at Samantha as if she had to be joking.
“Uh…? I guess a plane?” Jennifer answered as she cleared her throat and gestured towards Daan.
“Daan, would you rather go to college for art and be poor, or be rich for the rest of your life but lose your ability to paint?” Jennifer asked, taking a sip from her cup.
Daan took a bite of pizza, shaking his head. “I should have known. Probably go to art school and be poor. I wouldn’t want to give up something I’m passionate about.”
Jennifer nodded as if pleased with the answer while Daan scanned the room. He chose another girl from our English class, who in turn continued the cycle, until it fell back on Samantha again. She caught my gaze as I stood to get a second helping of pizza.
“So, Charlie,” Samantha purred. “No one has picked you yet.”
“I’m just eating,” I said hastily, putting the slice onto my plate. “Does anyone else want more?” Everyone shook their heads no.
“Charlie, would you rather keep Micah as your project partner, or be partnered with the infamous Dane Wesley, instead?” Her grin was horrible. “You remember Dane, don’t you?”
I glared at her as I came back to sit down. Was she proud of herself for setting me up to believe Dane had wanted to go out on a date with me?
“I guess it would depend on which one you’re not interested in at the moment,” I snapped.
A hiss emerged from our peers. I didn’t even know where my comment came from, but I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I could feel heat spread over my face as I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Don’t be silly,” she teased playfully. “Fine, fine. Let me try again.”
“I don’t think it works like that,” I retorted, but Samantha ignored me.
“Would you rather have another chance to go out with Dane Wesley, or go out with Micah?” So, this was her plan. She wanted to humiliate me in front of everyone, including Micah.
“That’s not really fair to ask,” Micah interrupted. My eyes widened in surprise as I jerked my chin in his direction. By Samantha’s reaction, she hadn’t expected his interference either.
“Jesus, fine.” Samantha rolled her eyes and brushed her hair over her shoulder again. “Charlie, would you rather eat another slice of that pizza and get fat, or go on a date with Micah?”
I took another bite, ignoring the sensation of being full. How many slices had I had already? Three? Four?
“You just want me to say Micah,” I said between chews, “but I’d choose pizza.”
No regrets. I felt nothing as I swallowed my bite.
Micah chuckle beside me. “I’d act surprised, but I’m not. Clearly, I can’t compete with pizza.” He elbowed my arm.
Samantha turned her gaze to Micah and gave him a smug smirk. “Micah, would you rather—?”
“Isn’t Charlie supposed to ask me something?” Micah asked.
Samantha shrugged lazily. “She’s eating, obviously. What does it matter? Would you rather…kiss Charlie or me?”
“Uh...what?” Micah raised his eyebrows.
Samantha began to repeat herself. “Would you rather kiss—?”
“I mean, I heard what you said. Why are you asking me that kind of question? Isn’t that kid your boyfriend?” Micah gestured to Daan, who was watching the entire scene unfold.
“It’s just a question. It’s really simple.” She feigned innocence. “It’s not like it means anything. Unless…it does?”
“No, it doesn’t. I mean…” He glanced from her to me and back to her. I could tell he was just as uncomfortable as I was. This project session had been a horrible idea. I wanted to apologize to him. I should have warned him, but how could I have explained this?
“I’d kiss Charlie,” Micah said as he slid his palms against his jeans. “Back to you, Sam. Would you rather be a big fat bitch or a snotty ass bitch?”
I almost choked on slice number four.
“Excuse me?” she squealed.
Micah didn’t bother to answer her as he grabbed my elbow and hoisted me up to my feet.
“Come on, Charlie. I’ve had enough of her stupid games. We have work to get done.”
I clung to my plate, relieved we were leaving. Micah took the plate from me and tossed it onto a nearby table. He went back to the corner where he left his jacket and notebook, and grabbed my bag.
His palm was sweaty as he tugged me up the basement steps and out to his car. I was pretty sure he didn’t bother to shut Samantha’s front door.
“Micah...” I said softly. His grip was tight and he didn’t release it until we reached the passenger side of the car.
“Just get in, and we’ll talk on the way back.” He walked to the other side and got in. I could tell by his expression that he was pissed.
“C’est la Mort”
The Civil Wars
“NICE FRIENDS YOU HAVE THERE,” he grunted as he turned the ignition. He had just started to pull out of the driveway when Samantha ran up to the door. Micah stuck his hand out the window, flipping her the bird.
I was mortified.
“They’re not all my friends,” I replied. “Just Jen and Daan.”
“Well, Samantha is a gem.” Micah s
witched on the radio.
“I thought I was a gem.” I glanced at him. He turned the dial until he found a station with a loud, rhythmic beat. I recognized the melody, but didn’t know the band.
“Right, you got me there. I need to redefine what a gem is.”
“Who is this?” I gestured to the radio.
“The Outfield. ‘I Don’t Want To Lose Your Love Tonight’.”
“Oh. So, now what?” I wanted to ask Micah about his response to the whole kissing thing, but at the same time, I didn’t want to hear his real answer. I wanted to believe the lie, even if it was just that—a lie.
“We can go to the Mini-Mart again, grab a snack if you want. Though, I’m pretty sure you ate enough pizza for the both of us,” Micah teased me. “Maybe we should just get you home.”
“I’m fine,” I objected.
“I don’t know…” He pressed his hand over my forehead, mocking concern. “You look a little orange, like cheese. Are you growing pepperoni?” I pushed his hand away, laughing.
“Whatever! I was hungry.”
We were quiet as he drove into town, listening to the different songs that trickled from his speakers. Micah pulled his car into the Mini-Mart parking lot, glancing from me to the small shop.
“I’m gonna go grab a soda; I’ll be right back. Want anything?”
“Nah. I’m my own pizza, remember?”
Micah smiled and got out of the car. I glanced down at my phone as he walked away, and noticed Jennifer had texted me.
JENNIFER: WHAT. THE. HELL!!!!!!!!
The Songs in Our Hearts: A Young Adult Romance Page 8