Her frown vanished. “That’s the first thing you’ve said that doesn’t make me want to kick you.”
He smiled. “That’s something, no?”
She didn’t answer.
“I swear my intentions were never to hurt you, but obviously I suck at being friends with a girl. Can you just be in charge from now on?”
She smiled—an actual smile. “You don’t totally suck. You knew to get beer and pizza.”
“Want to give me some more pointers on not sucking while we have said pizza and beer?” he asked with mild hope.
“Come on, you big idiot. But this is your last chance, so don’t blow it.”
Sam
Sam sat in Devon’s room all night, eating pizza, drinking beer and catching up on what they’d missed in each other’s lives over that past few weeks. She told him everything about soccer tryouts. And he actually cheered when she told him about scoring on Zander. He ran around the room screaming GOOAAALLLL like a proper Premier League fanatic. Eggsy had gone insane and overturned her can of beer trying to tackle Devon. The beer casualty was totally worth it to be laughing with Devon again.
In just that one night, Sam learned more about Devon than she had in nearly a month. His favorite soccer—sorry, football—team was Arsenal. Which was apparently disgraceful because Arsenal was an English team. He had to hide all his Arsenal jerseys because his father was a diehard Galway United fan. Growing up they used to steal each other’s jerseys and tear them to pieces. To Sam, it sounded horrendous, but Devon seemed to think it was the best thing ever. He recounted endless stories of shenanigans, as he called it, with his father and jersey pranks.
Six beers and too many slices of pizza later, she and Devon were right back where they started before that awful first day at Eddington. Maybe they were even closer. When Sam thought about it, fighting and making up only made friendships stronger. She and Megan used to fight all the time growing up. Every time had seemed like the end of the world, and she’d vowed she would never forgive Megan for whatever it was they were fighting about. But they would always end up patching things up over ice cream. Sam secretly wondered if she should share her weakness for chocolate chip mint—the white kind with candy cane chips—but she figured Devon would use it against her in their next fight. He already knew about the pizza and beer.
Regardless, Sam was glad to have Devon back in her life.
22
Sam
If anyone had told Sam that she would be enjoying the next six weeks at Eddington, she would have called them crazy. But here it was, eight weeks into the first term and Sam was starting to feel at home. No one at school was picking on her. Even Sophie and her minions left her alone. They still glared at her, but glaring was harmless. Zander continued to flirt with her. But flirting was harmless, too. And Sam actually liked hanging out with Zander at his Saturday football club. A few of the other girls on Sam’s team played too. She won her team over instantly because she was by far the best player. And due to Sam’s superior offensive moves, the Lady Eddi’s, were currently undefeated.
But by far, the thing that made Sam happiest, was Devon. And Eggsy. Okay, mostly Devon, but she’d grown to love the lanky mutt, who much to Devon’s dismay, slept in Sam’s bed now.
“You’re a traitor!” Devon called across the hall at Eggsy on Thursday night.
“No, he’s just smart,” Sam called back.
At some point, Sam and Devon had started leaving their bedroom doors open so they could talk continually. That’s how Eggsy ended up in Sam’s bed. That’s where the huge dog currently was, with Sam’s feet propped on his furry back as she tried to concentrate on her homework.
“It’s not fair. I’m lonely over here,” Devon called.
“Well, no one said you had to stay over there all alone.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Devon pouted. “He’s my dog. He should hang out in my room.”
“Maybe if your room was more fun . . .” Sam teased.
“My room is fun!”
Sam was about to yell a witty comeback about his room being dark and boyish, when her laptop screen chimed and Megan’s face flashed on the screen. “Hey, Meg!”
“Hey, doll face!” Megan had settled on doll face as her thing.
“Is that Megan?” Devon called from across the hall.
In two seconds he was crowding onto Sam’s bed to talk to Megan with her. This had become their thing—talking to Megan, and volleying for her attention. Megan loved it. She made Devon say all sorts of random words that she thought would sound funny in his accent.
Today she greeted Devon with her best Irish accent. “-Ello, ‘ansome!” It was terrible.
“Have I taught you nothing, lass? You sound bloody British!” Devon teased.
Megan giggled. “So, what’s my favorite duo up to tonight?”
“You’re looking at it,” Sam said holding up her homework.
“Blimey! You should be out drinking pints or playing the fiddle!” Megan retorted.
Sam rolled her eyes. Megan thought all Irish people played the fiddle. “I think you’re gonna be sorely disappointed when you come to visit, Meg.”
“It’s under twelve weeks now!” Megan squealed.
“Seventy-nine days!” Devon added.
“How do you know that?” Megan asked.
“Sam made a calendar,” he said grabbing her laptop and swiveling it so Megan could see the corny poster board hanging over Sam’s desk.
“Correction! You helped me make it,” Sam said grabbing her laptop back from Devon.
“You guys are disgusting!” Megan yelled. “Can you just get married and have babies already!”
Sam hated when Megan said stuff like that. It made her face hot, but Devon just took it all in stride. He’d say things like, not without you, or so, we have some news . . .
Today he said, “Didn’t she tell you, we’re going away together!”
“You are?” Megan asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“Not like that,” Sam corrected before her best friend exploded. “Just camping, and I haven’t even agreed yet, Devon.”
“Why not? Are you scared?” Megan teased.
“Yeah, why not, Sam?” Devon pestered. “Even Eggsy’s going.”
Devon had invited Sam on his annual camping trip. They both had Monday off from school for some random Irish holiday, and Devon apparently always spent the holiday weekend camping with his father. But this year, Henry obviously couldn’t go, so Devon invited Sam instead.
Sam wanted to go to be a good friend, but if she was honest, she was nervous to be alone in the wilderness with Devon. Sleeping in the same tent with him was a temptation she didn’t need. Lately, she’d caught herself staring at him, in a more-than-friends kind of way. And last week, she had a dream about him that broke every friends rule there was. So yeah, camping with Devon sounded dangerous.
Megan was still carrying on about Sam being a scaredy cat. “Why don’t you want to go?”
“Because. I’ve never been camping,” Sam said hoping to skirt the real issue.
“You’ll love it,” Devon said.
“Yeah, Sam, you’ll love it,” Megan echoed. “Don’t be scared.”
Ugh, they always ganged up on her.
“What’s not to love?” Devon continued. “Wilderness and stars and fresh air.”
“Bugs, dirt, sleeping on the ground,” Sam added. “Plus, I’m a girl. Peeing in the woods doesn’t excite me.”
Devon laughed. “Come on, it’ll be grand.”
“Come on, Sam!” Megan begged. “I want to go camping in Ireland. Do it for me!”
Sam contemplated her options. A weekend home alone, or a weekend sleeping under the stars? “I do like stars . . .” she said tentatively.
Devon and Megan both started chanting her name. “Sam! Sam! Sam!”
“Oh my God! Fine! But if I die in the woods I’m going to haunt you both.”
When they finally disconnected with M
egan, Devon took both of Sam’s hands excitedly. “Are you really gonna come camping with me?”
The enthusiasm in his voice was intoxicating. How could she say no when he was so happy? Besides, she couldn’t make him go by himself. One, she would be worried about him. Two, he’d be all alone and thinking about a lifetime of lonely camping trips without his father. She had to go. It’s what a good friend would do. She’d just stuff her feelings down. They probably weren’t even real anyway. It was just hormones. Being constantly surrounded by hot Irish guys that looked like they’d just gotten off a yachting photo shoot was making her boy-crazy. But she could do this. She would conquer her hormones and be a good friend.
Sam sighed and nodded her head. “Yeah. Why not?”
“Ah! Grand! This is going to be brilliant! I’m gonna go grab my map so I can show you where we’re going. Ah! Grand!” He said again, practically skipping out of the room.
Sam flopped onto her back, hoping she hadn’t just made a huge mistake.
23
Sam
The next day was the Lady Eddi’s biggest soccer match of the year. And it seemed like the whole school showed up to cheer them on. It was probably because everyone was excited about the long weekend, but Sam pretended it was because of her team’s undefeated record.
Devon sat in his usual spot—front row on the bleachers—with Eggsy. Sam loved when Devon brought Eggsy to her matches. The massive dog always growled at the girls that tried to talk to Devon. Sam ran over to say hello to them both before the game started. After chatting for a quick moment, Coach blew the whistle calling her in.
“Knock ‘em dead, kitten,” Devon cheered as Sam jogged away.
She blew him a kiss over her shoulder. “Thanks, baby cakes.”
They talked like that a lot, and pretty much the whole school thought they were dating. But Sam didn’t care anymore. Things were going well. People could think what they wanted. She had Devon and Eggsy and soccer. Nothing could bring her down.
Sam joined her team on the pitch and got ready to do their token huddle before they kicked ass and took names.
Devon
Devon cheered like a wild man when Sam scored her third goal off a free kick.
“Hat trick!” he hollered while Eggsy barked.
Sophie and Tess had showed up after the game started and stood next to the section where Devon was sitting. They looked pissed that they had to stand, but there were no seats left. Devon’s manners got the best of him and he offered the girls his seat. He was on his feet cheering most of the time anyway. Plus, it would be half time soon and he wanted to run over and high-five Sam for that awesome goal. She was an absolutely brilliant player. And if he weren’t already in love with her, he surely would be after watching her play.
By the time Devon let Eggsy do his business and made it to the other sideline where the players were, there was only five minutes of halftime left. He went to find Sam, but someone had beat him to it—Zander. He was chatting with Sam with his arm draped around her sweaty shoulders. Devon growled. Those are my sweaty shoulders! Sam was laughing. How could she not see Zander for what he was? A womanizing sycophant!
Devon wanted to scream. But then Sam saw him and shirked Zander’s arm off her shoulders so she could run to Devon. She practically leapt into his arms.
“Did you see my free kick?” she squealed.
“And that header! You’re on fire out there!”
“We’re killing them!” She turned to Eggsy scratching him behind the ears. “Thanks for cheering, boy. I can hear ya out there.”
“Is he distracting?” Devon asked.
“No, I love having my boys here.” Her coach blew his whistle. “Gotta go,” Sam said, giving Devon and Eggsy each a quick hug.
My boys . . . the words made Devon’s heart swell. His jealousy had almost subsided, as Sam jogged back to join her team. Almost—until he saw Zander glaring at him threateningly. He was up to something.
Devon returned to his spot by the bleachers trying to shake the foreboding feeling he got from Zander. Luckily Zander remained on the other side of the field with the boys’ team so Devon could keep an eye on him. Only the girls’ team and coaching staff were technically supposed to be on the sidelines during games, but Coach never reprimanded his players. That was half the problem. All the blokes on the team thought they were untouchable—Zander most of all.
Devon leaned up against the bleacher railing as the game got back under way. He noticed Sophie and Tess arguing. They were too engrossed to notice he’d returned.
“I can’t believe you’re not going to do anything about Zander,” Tess was saying. “He’s been blatantly flirting with that Samantha girl for weeks! Are you guys over or something?”
“We are definitely not over!” Sophie huffed.
“Then, I don’t get it. Why don’t you do something?” Tess continued.
“I am, Tess. It’s all part of the plan. Just wait and see.”
Devon gritted his teeth. He’d heard enough. He was going to keep his mouth shut about Zander until after their camping trip so he didn’t ruin the weekend he planned, but this couldn’t wait. If Sophie was involved in whatever Zander was up to, it wasn’t good. Zander was a prick, but Sophie’s wrath knew no boundaries—a dangerous combination.
Devon waited for Sam after the game. He had the Defender packed with all their gear so they could leave from Eddington to make camp before dark. Sam came bounding over to the car, freshly showered and grinning from ear-to-ear.
She greeted Devon and Eggsy as she climbed in. “There’s my favorite fan club!”
Sam seemed on cloud-nine, so Devon had to broach the subject delicately. He waited until they’d driven off campus to say anything. “So, I saw you talking to Zander at halftime . . .”
“Oh, Devon, can we not? We’re on our way to have an amazing weekend. I don’t want to argue with you about this again. Zander isn’t some maniacal villain. He’s just a flirt.”
“You’re not . . . into him . . . are you?” Devon asked awkwardly.
“God, no!”
“Good. Grand!” Devon’s chest flooded with relief. It was the first time he’d come right out and asked her. “I mean it’s not like I’m telling you who to date or anything. It’s just . . . I don’t trust him.”
“I know, Devon. You’ve made that perfectly clear. And I’m not an idiot. Zander’s pretty transparent.”
“He is?”
“Yeah. He’s just flirting with me because he knows it bothers you.”
“You think?”
“It’s obvious.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.”
“Hey!” Sam yelled smacking Devon’s arm.
“What?”
“It’s not good. You’re not supposed to want guys fake flirting with me to make you jealous.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just good that you can see through his bollocks, because I overheard something unsettling at the game today.”
“What?”
“Sophie and Tess were talking. They saw Zander flirting with you and Sophie said it was all part of some plan.”
Devon glanced over at Sam in the passenger seat. She was frowning.
“I’m telling you the truth,” he argued.
“I know.”
“Then why do you look mad?”
“After the game, Trista, one of the girls on my team, got in a big fight in the locker room with Molly. Trista accused Molly of putting hair remover in her shampoo.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I guess big clumps of her hair came out in the shower. And I didn’t think anything of it until you said you heard Sophie plotting.
“What are you thinking?” Devon asked.
“Trista and I share a locker.” Sam shook her head and then looked at Devon. “Sophie and Molly are pretty tight. Do you think Sophie would put Molly up to spiking my shampoo?”
Devon ground his teeth. “There’s not much I would put past Sophie.”
Sam looked rattled. “That means it should’ve been me with bald spots, not poor Trista.”
“Perhaps your flirting with Zander isn’t so harmless.”
Sam’s face fell. “Can we please press pause on this argument. I really don’t want to spend our weekend arguing about Sophie and Zander. I want to go camping!”
Devon couldn’t help grinning despite his concerns. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”
“I might just surprise you yet,” she said raising her chin.
Sam was in such a good mood before he’d brought up Zander and Sophie that Devon hated to waste it. Besides, it’s not like they could do anything to them while they were camping. “Alright, Boston. You’re right. Let’s go celebrate your victory in the woods!”
Sam giggled. “I like when you call me Boston.”
“I like when you call me baby cakes.”
Sophie
“Are you kidding me, Molly? How could you screw this up?”
Sophie was fuming. She was sitting in her BMW with a tearful Molly and a cranky Tess. Her plan to Nair-poo Samantha had royally backfired.
“I didn’t realize she was sharing a locker with, Trista! And now Trista wants to kill me.”
“That’s not my problem,” Sophie snapped. “Someone come up with a plan to fix this! Now! I will not have that skank going to the Grad Ball with Devon!”
“Don’t you mean Zander?” Tess asked.
Sophie glared at her useless friends. She couldn’t believe her plan had failed. Samantha was supposed to be bald right now! Sophie could picture it. Samantha would look so hideous without hair that she would never show herself at the dance. Better yet, maybe she’d drop out of Eddington. But no! Molly had fucked it up. Now, Trista, who could actually pull-off a bald head because she was butch as hell, was going to kill Sophie if she ever found out she’d been behind the Nair-poo. Trista was definitely going to kill Molly.
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