Though he had met him… A long time ago, but he had.
At first she was angry, but the more she thought about it, Tristan may be right. If the situation were reversed, and Steven was driving cross-country with a woman she’d never met, she wouldn’t like it one bit. And she wasn’t even the jealous type. Her stomached coiled deep inside and she worried her bottom lip.
Steven’s voice came through the line, hurried and out of breath. “Steven Mathers,” he answered, making her anxiety flair and her face to cringe with regret.
She’d caught him at a bad time, she was sure of it. “Hey, it’s me.” She whisper-replied.
“Sam.” He lowered his voice and muffled the receiver. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I—”
“Can I call you later? I really shouldn’t be on the phone.”
She bit her bottom lip, determined to get the words out. She glanced through the window of the restaurant, where Tristan could be seen looking at a menu. “I’m calling to tell you I left for New York this morning.”
“What?” he questioned, a little shocked.
“Yeah… You see, Renee’s brother was leaving today, and she thought it would be a good idea for us to drive together.”
“And this was so important you called me at work?”
She frowned. “You’re not angry?”
He hesitated a moment, as though contemplating the question. “Are you a big girl, Samantha?”
She picked at her fingernail, then scrunched her shoulders nervously. “I don’t know? You’re not jealous because I’m with another guy?”
“Should I be?”
She shook her head, looking down to her lap. “No.”
“Honey, I trust you. You’ve never given me any reason not to. You make your decisions, and I make mine. That’s what I love about us. I don’t want to be one of those couples that can’t make decisions without the other. I’m secure enough in my manhood to trust the woman I love.”
Samantha closed her eyes, pulling in her first real breath in the last five minutes. “You’re right.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He chuckled. “I really have to get back to work now. Are we good?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“Okay, be safe baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Six years earlier
The ride back to the Montgomerys’ was surprisingly uneventful. Samantha and Renee had been seated at the back of the van, where Samantha buried her face in a pillow and covered her head with the hood of her jacket. But Tristan had sat catty-corner in the captain’s chair, reading. Which was something she’d never seen him do before.
Was this new for him, could it be some secret tactic to make her fall for him a little more, or had she simply never paid enough attention to notice? But she was paying attention now—so much so, she couldn’t seem to look away. She watched him out of corner of her eye, each expression as he got lost in his story—and when he smiled, that wicked grin that made her heart skip a beat, she almost rolled out of her seat.
Last night’s kiss had haunted her so much she’d barely slept—because she kept wondering if he’d been affected the same way. If he had any inclination about how many times she wished she would have followed him down to his bedroom. But mostly, she thought about Renee. About what she would say when she told her the truth.
As the hours passed by, Samantha began planning out each word she would use to explain what happened. The exact punctuation, down to the tone she would use as she told Renee about her first kiss. But when they pulled into the driveway of the two-story craftsman, she realized five hours wasn’t nearly long enough time to prepare. She’d been practicing nearly every minute, yet nothing had come to her that was good enough. Nothing could justify the fact that she’d kissed her best friend’s brother, really kissed him without holding back. The boy they’d hated together for as long as she could remember. The one thing that bound their friendship from the very start.
“Well, we made it!” Mr. Montgomery said, throwing the van in park. He looked to back seat, where he shoved Tristan’s knee to make sure he was awake. “If we can get this ship unloaded in thirty minutes, I’ll buy everyone pizza.”
Tristan, who ate more than anyone she’d ever met, immediately grinned, then popped open the sliding door and climbed out of the van.
They’d driven straight from Big Bear to Los Angeles without stopping, and Samantha’s legs were stiff and sore when she finally joined him. Tristan was already untying the straps on the roof when she stepped down to the driveway. He never once looked her way. Why that bothered her was baffling, especially considering she had told him to keep it a secret just that morning. But it still left her feeling forgotten.
Would she ever be comfortable here again? At the Montgomerys’ home? Around the people who’d been like a second family since second grade? Renee came to stand by her side, a purple blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and leaned close to her ear. “Don’t look now,” she whispered, “but lover boy is waiting at the front steps.”
Samantha whipped around, her heart jumping to her chest. Steven Mathers sat on the front stoop, his glossy brown hair neatly combed, looking like he’d just come back from Sunday school. She looked over to Tristan, who was untying the luggage with urgency.
“I thought you’d never get home,” Steven shouted from the steps. He stood up, walked slowly toward the van, and stopped directly at her side. He grinned, then leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I missed you,” he said, in that way that was comfortable and familiar. Like he thought she missed him too.
She didn’t.
In all actuality, it was the complete opposite. “Hey,” she whispered back. “I gotta go help unload the van. You want to wait inside?”
Steven nodded, but paused for a few moments before picking up a couple of sleeping bags and following Mrs. Montgomery into the house.
As soon as he was out of view, she turned toward the van again. She should’ve been relieved, but she still needed to talk to Renee, and she couldn’t do that with Steven around.
Renee opened the back of the van, and Samantha immediately began helping with the luggage. She pulled a brown suitcase from the top of the stack, just as Renee elbowed her in the ribs.
“He’s like a puppy,” Renee whispered in her ear. “A perfectly groomed puppy wearing too much cologne. Can’t he leave you alone for one stupid weekend?”
Samantha closed her eyes, then yanked another bag from the pile and set it on the pavement. Normally she would defend Steven, but right now she agreed. He was like a puppy, a sad, loyal puppy, and she couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
Renee took her small duffle from the back of the van, immediately gripping the door to steady herself. She looked over to Samantha and cringed. “Sorry, Sam, but I think I need to go sit down.”
Samantha patted her on the back. “Go, I don’t want you passing out on me.”
Renee headed for the house, leaving her and Tristan to unpack the rest of the luggage alone. Samantha didn’t mind though, because it gave her time to think about how to get rid of Steven. He really was a good guy, and she knew that someday he’d make a girl very happy. She just wasn’t that girl. Tristan was right about that. She couldn’t sacrifice her own happiness to supply someone else’s.
She turned around to place another suitcase on the growing pile, just as a red car, filled with half a dozen former seniors pulled along the sidewalk of the house. Girls and guys, laughing and horsing around as they piled out of the car.
“T-Man!” one of them shouted to Tristan. “It’s about time you got home! Where’s the party?”
Tristan turned to lean against the van and lifted his chin. “What’s up, Beef?”
They bumped shoulders, did some sort of hand shake thing as two girls wearing much too little clothing came to latch themselves to Tristan’s sides.
She closed her eyes and turned away. She recognized them. Barely
. They were cheerleaders from West Valley high. People she barely knew, and she liked it that way. But a sinking feeling grew in the bottom of her stomach, bubbling up until it began climbing her bitter throat.
Is this jealousy? Whatever it was, it was a feeling she’d never felt before, and one she was sure she shouldn’t be feeling right now. This was Tristan, she reminded herself. He wasn’t just a guy she got to know at the lake, but the lead quarterback of his varsity football team. The guy who had a friend named Beef, and who had more attention from women than she wanted to know about.
The realization left her questioning everything. Could she like a boy who had more friends than he knew what to do with? A guy who was never alone, not even for ten minutes?
She continued pulling sleeping bags and pillows from the back of the van, anxious to be done with the task so she could go inside, but it was difficult when the other side of her was hanging on every word they said.
The Tristan she’d met alone in the woods wasn’t like this. He was honest and open, and so much deeper than the guy leaning against the van. She didn’t know if she could take it. If she could stand by and watch girls wrap themselves in his arms. Because right now she felt insecure and vulnerable, and that wasn’t a feeling she liked very much. She was a girl who prided herself on being reasonable, on being mature. But one kiss from Tristan Montgomery had her insides screaming “bitch” when a tall brunette stretched up on tiptoe to whisper in Tristan’s ear.
“It’s my birthday,” she said rather loudly. “My parents bought a keg. Come over later?”
Tristan only laughed, but he did something interesting. He looked over at Samantha, their eyes locking for brief time and he shook his head. “I don’t know, I’m pretty beat.”
If she hadn’t been looking for it, she would have missed it, but it was long enough for her heart to soar. For the message to be clear. He wasn’t interested in keg girl. Whatever happened in the woods had meant as much to him as it had to her.
She took the last piece of luggage from the van feeling comforted, but very much needing to get away.
Mr. Montgomery was her saving grace. He came to stand by the van, and pulled down the back to slam it shut. He rested his hand on Samantha’s head and ruffled her hair. “I got this kiddo. Why don’t you run inside and find Renee?”
She only nodded, still too shaken by the shared glance to trust her voice. Without looking back, she turned toward the house and walked up to the steps, leaving Tristan and his party crowd reluctantly alone.
9
Chapter Nine
Six years earlier
As promised, Mr. Montgomery ordered pizza as soon as everyone was finished unloading the van—enough to feed a small army—or half of West Valley’s senior class. But that was how it was at the Montgomery home. Sometimes it was over half the football team, more than twenty-five jocks and their girlfriends, filling the great-room and lounging on the sectional in the corner. Today, however, there were only ten, which filled the home with rowdy laughter that sounded like twice that.
Renee sat at the bar with Samantha and Steven, wrapped in a purple blanket she’d taken from the cabin. It was far too noisy for any of them to hold a conversation, so they sat in silence, trying to ignore Tristan, and his friends who seemed to monopolize the entire room.
Samantha didn’t mind—because it took the attention away from her. Away from the guilt, the jealousy, and the desire she was sure could be seen on her face. Because her mind was preoccupied with something else. Two somethings, actually. One: she needed to figure out what to tell Renee. Because “I let your brother stick his tongue in my throat” didn’t have the right ring to it. And two: she needed to apologize to Steven. Because that’s what it would be. An apology.
She couldn’t be the girl he wanted her to be. She couldn’t like him the way he wanted her to, and she knew that fact would hurt him. She would say it as gently as she could, hoping with all hope they’d still have a friendship when it was over, but she was worried. It was all too much for a girl to take. Too much responsibility, too much stress. So much so that she thought she might have a nervous breakdown, right there in Mrs. Montgomery’s kitchen.
She picked up another slice of pizza, hoping to dull her emotions with carbohydrates, but Steven’s phone buzzed on the counter at that moment. He slid open the call, and held one finger to his ear as he excused himself to the front porch. Everyone was distracted, watching TV or playing pool, and Samantha knew it was the perfect opportunity to talk. She picked up her plate from the counter, then tossed it into the trashcan, intending to follow.
She found Steven sitting on the front sidewalk, still on the phone. Far enough from the house that the distance offered privacy from the rest of the party. Samantha sat down beside him, her feet stretched out to the road, waiting for him to finish his conversation.
“Okay, okay…” He held up one finger. “Yeah, I’ll wait outside.” He said goodbye, looked over at Samantha, and slid his cell back into his pocket. But he didn’t say a word for a good moment. Just stared at her. As though they both waited for the other to speak. A moment passed, and he turned in her direction, resting his elbow on his thigh. “Sorry, that was my mom.”
She nodded, though her throat tightened with anticipation of what to say next, because she had no idea where to begin. She’d never had a boyfriend before, but she imagined this felt much like breaking up. Ironic, considering they’d never even had a first date.
She worried her bottom lip, unable to pull the words from her tongue. But she finally turned to face him, her eyes intense.
“How long have you been here?” she asked, her hands in the warmth of her hoodie’s pocket, pulling at bits of lint to calm her nerves. She closed her eyes, knowing she’d messed things up already. Feeling the tension rush in all around them. “I mean, before we got home?”
He shrugged a little, but his brows furrowed slightly as if sensing her discomfort. “About an hour. I walked here from Mr. Chavez’s class—he wanted help setting up for fall semester.”
“Oh.” She nodded, taking a deep breath before looking down to the asphalt. Not surprised, because this was such a typical Steven thing to do. He was the only kid she’d ever met who still went to school during summer. But she admired that about him. She admired a lot about him.
He turned to face her, swallowing hard before opening his mouth again. “Did you give any thought to my question?”
She looked straight into his eyes, knowing without a doubt he was referring to the proposition he’d given her before she’d left. About becoming his girlfriend junior year, about crossing the bridge from friends, to so much more than that. She looked down to the pavement, to the rocky texture that blurred through unshed tears. This was her chance to speak up, to say she was sorry if she hurt him, but that she couldn’t do it. Because she was falling for someone else, someone who was unexpected, but the exact opposite of everything she ever thought she wanted. She chewed her inner cheek, unable to think properly. “About that—”
“Samantha,” he interrupted, taking her hands in his and squeezing. “Before you say anything, know this—you don’t like me as much as I like you. I know that. But you haven’t really given me a chance.”
“Steven, I—”
But before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed hold of her face and kissed her. Firm and hard—urgent…messy.
The exact opposite of Tristan.
She didn’t know what to do, push him away, hurt him more than she already had to—or stay there. To bear the invasion to save his pride. His tongue pushed inside her mouth. Soft and velvety, but different. She waited for the butterflies to flutter. To grow in her belly and swarm to her lips until the feeling filled her entire body. The way they had when Tristan kissed her—the way they did when he even looked at her.
But they never came.
Tears pooled in her eyes and she squeezed them shut. Partly because it felt so wrong, but partly because she wanted it to feel so right. S
he prayed for her mind to go blank, to replace all the wild thoughts with something safer. With Steven. With the boy who did homework on the weekend. Who didn’t have girls hanging on his arms every second of the day. But she couldn’t.
Nothing came. No butterflies. No tingles. And eventually she pushed at Steven’s chest, not hard, but hard enough to break away.
He scooted down the sidewalk, a good foot away, and looked down at his feet. A crease stretched across his entire brow, making him look older, upset, or almost angry. She pressed her hot lips together, still swollen and sore from their brief kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, his voice low, but more emotional than she’d ever heard it.
She nodded, moisture threatening to seep through the corners of her eyes. Because she knew it was the truth. She knew that’s what he wanted, what he’d always wanted. Which was the reason it was so hard to let him down.
“I’m sure it will get better with practice,” he said, almost as though trying to convince himself.
She shook her head, knowing she had to speak up. “Steven—”
But before she could say the words, a bright blue hatchback pulled along the sidewalk.
Steven cleared his throat, quickly standing and dusting off the back of his jeans. “That’s my mom,” he said under his breath.
Mrs. Mathers waved from the driver’s seat, smiling the same infectious smile as her son’s. Steven looked down to sidewalk, where Samantha still sat on the ground.
He offered his hand, helping to pull her up beside him. But his dark brown eyes were searching hers, and seemed to have lost a little of their light.
She swallowed. “Steven, I don’t think this is going to work—”
But one finger came to hush her, pushing her lips closed before she could say more. “You’re confused, I can tell.” He searched her eyes, as if trying to read her thoughts. “Don’t answer now. Don’t answer tomorrow. But when you get all this stuff sorted out in your head”—he cupped the side of her cheek—“call me. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The Boy I Hate Page 7