Stop thinking like that Sam, you don't want him.
“They were out of Coke, so I just got you a Sprite,” Zane tells Sam, handing over the medium sized clear cup.
“Thank you.”
“Let's get out of here,” the blonde speaks, tugging at Jakes arm.
Needy much?
Jake gives Zane a knuckle punch and leans in toward Sam, as though he is giving her a hug his hand rests on her arm as his lips brush her ear.
“Is that jealousy I see?” His voice full of amusement.
“You wish, not every girl drools over you.”
He pauses, his voice turning into a deep growl coming from his chest, “We’ll see about that babe, meet me here and I'll see what I can do about that - something tells me that you’ll be more than drooling.”
Why does he do that? Making her heart race, her skin turning flushed. She can’t take her eyes off him as he and the blonde drift down the beach to where his car is probably parked firmly between two others that would never stand out. She watched until their frames become a small shadow in the distance and she could no longer make out their features.
“How about not?” She says, smirking, “You have to try a little harder than that if you want to get me alone.”
His jaw tightens as he steps back, he nods taking in her words, “Challenge accepted.”
This is starting to get interesting, somehow spending a day near the water with him beside her didn't sound too bad - in fact, it sounded like something she needs, but first, he has to earn it.
Chapter Six
She felt a light shake, groaning as she throws the pillow over her head to shield the light from blinding her. The noise keeping her from falling back into a peaceful slumber, she throws the pillow to her side and sits up, rubbing her eyes.
“Honey. It’s time to get up,” her mother's voice chimed in, as she lays a pile of folded clothes on her computer stand.
“Mom, it’s the weekend, there's no School today.”
“I know, but we promised the Jones family that we would help with the Food Community.” Her mother sighs, placing her hands on her hips, “Don’t make your mother get a bucket of ice.”
Sam cracks a smile, “Fine, but I get to shower first...I kind of stink.”
Her mother laughs, she has missed that sound. It was nice seeing her mother in such high spirits, she wished she could see her like this more often. This is the mother she remembers from when she was a little girl. The one that was fearless and strong. They have come a long way together. Usually when her father is home, her mother is crammed up in her room and not making plans for community stuff, Sam wonders where he is.
She leaves Sam to get her shower while she starts packing the van with the dinner meats. Sam pulls herself from the bed she drags her feet into the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the cabinet she turns on the shower head, reaching her hand in to test the temperature. Goosebumps cover her arms as she is hit with instant cold.
This is going to be a lovely cold shower to wake her up. . . Not that she chooses to take a freezing cold shower, but her father neglects to pay the majority of bills and this time? It was the heat bill, now she has to embrace the cold shower and get on with her day.
Slowly stripping herself of her clothing, she stares at herself in the mirror, her stomach turning over. Her best friend says she has a body to die for, that she is perfect the way that she is, but to Sam she was everything but that, she felt so out of place in her own skin, the cuts lining her wrists, red and broken.
She feels like a stranger in her own body.
Stepping into the cold shower, she lets the water run over her - for a moment she could let herself pretend that she isn’t here, that there is no battle to fight, that everything was okay and there was no need to fear. Just for this one moment, she could be free.
Closing her eyes, she pictures herself happy, carefree. She did love the idea of that; she wonders if there would ever be a day that she could have a life like that for her mother and herself.
Somewhere, where they do not have to worry about what is going to happen the next day, or how they are going to get by.
One day, she thinks, I am going to make sure that happens.
She could hear her mother howling her name from downstairs, guess that is her cue to hurry up. Rinsing out the remainder of the conditioner from her hair she steps out, throwing on her bra and panties, she ignores her image reflecting back at her. Slipping on her slacks and T-shirt, she rushes through her room - eyeing her hoodie she decides against it. Mrs. Jones would give her shit about it anyway.
Downstairs, she found her mother cooking, a fresh platter of sausage and eggs, with chocolate pancakes, and her favorite. Giving her a warm smile, she takes the plate from her mother and sits at the kitchen table. She missed her mom’s homemade meals and breakfast surprises, it reminds her of a time when things were easy - where they never had to worry. Those were the days.
“Father?” She questions.
“He got called out of town this morning while you were at School, something about a work project out in Nabraskica, he'll be gone for a week or so,” Her mother replies.
No wonder she is in such a great mood. Her father works for a construction company building poles for the street lights. When he wasn’t too drunk that is, there would be times that he would need to travel for a few days, sometimes longer. The time they got to spend without him was a weight taken off both of their shoulders and the only time they can recreate their mother and daughter bond.
She never understood why her mother refused to take this time to escape this prison, but every time Sam would bring it up, her mother completely shuts down and clearly states he is still her father and he loves her. Maybe she is just scared - afraid that running is only patching up the pain for the time being, but maybe one day she can see what is before her and understand that she deserves better; she deserves a real man, with real romance and real happiness.
Not the show that they place for their friends and family and not the face they put on for themselves, so they can pretend that they are more than a corrupted family.
Taking a bite of her pancakes she savors the taste, swirling it around her mouth before taking a peaceful gulp. If she could hang onto this moment for the rest of her life, she believes that she would never grow unhappy.
“Thanks mom, it's delicious!”
“You are welcome honey, I am glad you like it,” she replies.
It never felt more like home.
“Do you have any plans today?” Her mother asks.
Thinking, “I think I may hit the coffee shop if that is alright? I heard that there should be a poetry reading today.”
Sitting next her, with her plate she takes a bite, swirling her own food around her plate with her fork.
“That sounds wonderful!” Says her mom, her voice warm.
One day, one day very soon Sam is going to get them out of here - get her mom and take off, without a single word of indication of their destination, just drive and never look back. On that day, Sam would have kept the promise she has made to herself to protect her mom at all costs, to never let that awful man hurt her again. She is determined and when she sets her mind to something, she would be damned if she wasn’t going to do everything in her power to make sure it happens. After they finished their morning breakfast, Sam decided to hit the Coffee shop early, so she could get back in time to help with the Food Community.
Sam sat at her usual spot at the local coffee shop in town, hidden in the right back corner, where she could watch everyone around her but have no one watching her. It's Saturday morning and she always finds herself here, listening to the poetic language sipping her Chocolate and Peppermint Swirl coffee.
Maybe it was the words, listening to them in the form of poetry and how much she can relate to it at times. It has been weeks since the party and she hasn't really been around Jake or her friend Ari... she skipped most of School; she was still shaken up about the encounter wit
h the police.
She takes a small sip of the smoldering hot coffee, letting it burn her lips slightly, savoring the minty taste, DING. The sound of the Stevens Coffee shop door bounces open, two people walk in. A woman about 5’2” with short dark auburn hair. She wore a low-cut shirt and a very short skirt, her fish net leggings and high heels making her stand out.
She was pretty, Sam can tell that much. The man with her, she could pick him out anywhere - catching the eye of Sky she smiles waving them over.
"Hey Sam!" he smiles.
"Hi, surprised to see you here," she says, "not really your Jock scene"
He laughs, shifting his head towards the woman, "You can thank this pretty woman."
The woman blushes, ducking her head as though she is shy — she shifts from one foot to another.
Sky continues. “This is Sam." moving his hands in a greeting gesture. “Sam this is my date Jessica."
"It's nice to meet you Sam."
"Oh! The one from the bonfire!" She smiles, "Please sit!"
Jessica takes the seat next to Sky who was nestled next to Sam, giving a friendly smile, “So, you're the great Sam that I have heard so much about!”
“Oh, is that so?”
“I was just telling her about how much of an incredible poet you are,” Sky sticks up for himself.
Sam almost laughs at his expression - it was not every day that you got to see the Jock flustered, especially around a girl. He must really like her.
Sam says, “Eh, I’m not that good!”
“Bullshit, last week I bumped into her in the hall, total acident of course and she drops this little notebook full of all these really descriptive and sincere poems.”
Okay, maybe she did study creative writing growing up and maybe she does write on her spare time - but that doesn't make her good, right? Anyone can pick up a sheet of paper and pen and jot down a few words here and there, there is nothing special about it.
Sticking her tongue out at him, they all laugh together like old friends - it felt nice for Sam to feel like she had friends, being able to laugh together and hang out together–this is what she has been wanting and look at where she is now! She is stuck in a beaten-up old coffee shop with round ragged log tables and chairs, surrounded by images of cowboys and horses listening to people express their feelings through their words.
She couldn’t ask for a better morning- they gossiped, and she got to know Jessica better and turns out she likes her, they have a lot in common, they both were born in the same hospital and only live a few blocks apart, Jessica’s dad works as a police officer, officer Jakob and her mother passed away at a young age. Of course, they did not have as much in common as Ari and her, but nonetheless, it was nice to gain another friend and be able to see Sky happy.
Eventually, throughout the hour, they brought it upon themselves to try to drag Sam into getting up on that stage and presenting one of her own poems - Yeah like that is going to happen, she shakes her head.
A voice comes over the microphone, “That there was Mrs. Lily and her Butterfly poem! Let's give her a round of applause.”
The room remained silent as Lily drifts off the stage as the host continues his speech. “Keep in mind today is open mic so please grab a coffee and come on up and show us what you got!”
Jessica perks up, almost bouncing in her seat. “Oh c’mon! You have to do at least one!”
“No, I can barely stand being the center of attention, let alone stand up and present a horrible poem.” Sam laughs, taking a sip from her coffee.
Sky looks lost in thought, his eyes lighting as he gets an idea, winking he stands up, clearing his throat he points at her, “She would like to give it a go”
What is he doing?!
“That is the spirit!” The host hollows as Sky pulls her from her seat and rushes her over to the stage, all eyes on her.
“Sky, I can’t do this.”
Spinning her around, his hands on either shoulder he gives her a reassuring look, “You got this, trust me. Take a deep breath and go kill it.”
Nodding, she inhales holding her breath 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 exhale- ascending the steps she moves swiftly across the stage floor until she is standing in front of the mic looking out at the room full of people staring back at her, her nerves have never been this high on end. The room was dark but lit with lights behind red glass giving it that peaceful feeling.
Softy, she forces herself to speak, “Uh. . . My name is Sam and I will be reading a poem that I wrote called ‘What would you do ‘. Thanks.”
Taking a moment to gather herself she goes on with her poem, with the encouragement of her friends with their cheering and cheek to cheek grins, Sam manages just fine.
What do you do?
When the words have been said,
But that voice of your pain,
Still lingers in your head.
What do you do?
If your love is pushed aside,
And the pain that you feel,
When you see them tears at your pride?
What do you do?
When you have tears in your eyes,
And the pieces of your shattered heart hit the ground,
And all you hear, Is the sound as they break all around.
What do you do?
When you’re standing at a crossroad,
And you want to turn around,
Do you keep your eyes forward?
And don't make a sound.
What do you do?
When someone else takes your place,
And you find the truth hidden beneath the lies and scares,
Just like before,
You fall down from grace.
What do you do?
When you feel that need,
To put a knife across your wrist, and watch the blood drop,
As you hold your hand to your chest in a fist.
What do you do?
When one of these are you,
Someone you shouldn't be,
That's the question they ask,
Can't you see.
What would I do?
The words fall from her lips in sync, she reads them to her friends, she reads them to herself, she reads them to him - Sam Echo reads them whole heartedly, unconditionally and honestly to anyone and everyone that would listen. She reads them and suddenly with the smiles, the tears, and the understanding glances. She doesn’t feel so alone.
Chapter Seven
After unwillingly presenting her poem in front of a bunch of random people Sam parted from her friends and headed in the direction of the old Jefferson Park down by Highway 69. She couldn’t really call it a park even if she wanted to; the thing was nothing but a large grassy field with a few weeds here and there. There is a single bench to the right of the parking lot that sits in the shaded area.
When Sam pulled her car into the parking lot and turned the engine off, there was already about a dozen people here, all dressed properly and most of them catering around the foods that they brought with them to provide to the Food Community or to get. The Food Community gets together every three months `so that they can provide for the homeless and misfortunate–her mother found it uprising and generous to volunteer every time one is aired so that she can feel better about her situation and know that other people out there may or may not have it worse than we do. Sam makes her way across the field occasionally getting stopped by warm smiles and small talk.
She spots her mother hunched over a long table with a red cloth covering it, she is rummaging through a basket of loafs of homemade bread she brings every time, picking out the perfect one for the small old couple that stands on the other end of the table, laughing and bullshitting with her. Stalking over Sam gives them a polite smile, and proceeds to help unload the rest of the goodies from two small boxes.
“Hi Sam, I hear it’s your senior year?” Says the older woman who Sam believes name is Amy.
She replies, “Sure is, five months left to go.”
“I
s it that close?” the older man questions, rubbing his bearded chin, “Time flies so quickly now days.”
Her mother helps her unload the boxes of sugar cookies onto the table, laying them in two neat rows of five, “It’s been decent.”
In no more than five months Sam would be graduating from High School, she would have just a month later before she turns eighteen years old and will be legally defined as an adult. She couldn’t be happier for that day to come–while School has always been her escape the idea of getting away from all of the crowded halls, strange faces and unnecessary interactions couldn’t be more delightful. That means a mere five months longer and Sam Echo can take the next train out of this town.
Sam’s mother packs the couple’s loaf of bread into a brown paper bag and added a few more goodies before handing it over to them.
Amy thanks them and turns her attention briefly to her, “I hope you have a good next five months and keep helping your mother out. It’s good to see a daughter or son caring for their elders.”
“She’s always been a huge help,” her mother says, tucking her loose hair behind her ear.
“That’s great to hear!”
Her husband hushes them away to move on to the next table to bundle up on their goods before heading back home to their warm safe home. Sam spends the next four hours standing behind the medium sized table handing out little goods to those that stopped. She couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, horrified about how she acted with Jake, pushing him away like that out of fear.
He was so gentle and so understanding and she just shoved him away, building her wall even higher to keep him out and why? Because she is so messed up in the head that she can’t even let a single person in.
Sighing, she flops down on the white chair leaning her elbows on the table and resting her head on them. Her mother had drifted to a few tables down to talk to their neighbor while she worked with their own goods. Getting a small break from all the commotion, she closes her eyes briefly, settling the disgust and hate she felt toward herself inside, to stop kicking herself in the back over what had happened.
Shattered Echo (The Shattered Echo Series Book 1) Page 5