“You mean woman. Those women at the Fire Station are, like, proper women.”
“They’re girls pretending to be women. You're more of a woman than any of them, Peg.” She loved the way he kept calling her Peg.
She laughed. “Thanks, I think.”
“I want to ask you something,” he began, almost looking nervous.
“Uh, OK.”
He gently brushed her hair away from her face. “Will you go to prom with me?” he asked.
Peggy’s heart flipped, and she knew he could feel it too.
“It’s OK if you don’t want to,” Sammy said, moving away slightly.
“I do want to, yes! I want to go to prom with you,” she grinned. “But there’s something I need to tell you about the night of the prom.”
“We don’t have to do anything at prom, we can even go as friends if you want.”
Peggy laughed. “Oh, that’s so not it.”
“So, what is it?”
“I had a dream,” she started. How could she tell him the truth? “I had a dream that on the way home from prom you crashed your car into a tree, and you…” a tear escaped and slid down her flushed cheek and before she knew it she was crying again.
Sammy took her into his arms and held her. He didn’t ask what was wrong, or offer any dumb advice, he just held her until she could talk again.
“You die, you died,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“It’s just a dream Peg, I’m fine.”
“Will you just promise me,” she asked him, “I know it sounds crazy, but will you just promise me you won’t drive to prom? We’ll get a limo and you won’t drive?”
Sammy wiped the mascara from her cheeks. “Sure, I promise.”
They heard the front door slam shut.
“Wanna meet my dad?” Sammy asked, kissing her softly on the cheek.
“Sure, I guess I’ve got a lot to live up to though, I mean how many girls have met your dad?”
“Hardly any,” he said, pulling her up off the ground. She tucked her shirt in, and they walked down the stairs, bringing their mugs still full of now cold tea, leaving the record playing.
She would have preferred him to say none, but hardly any would do.
* * *
“I'm Sam,” he said, holding out a grease-covered hand. He was a fit older man, tanned and sweaty, his long shaggy hair greying and in a tangle.
Peggy shook it politely. “Peggy,” she smiled.
“I've gone and greased you,” he said, his face falling as she looked at the black grease on her palm.
She laughed. “No problem Mr. Ruthven.”
“Sam, please.”
“Sam,” she said.
“Come into the kitchen and clean up,” he said, holding out a hand for her to go first. “We call him Sammy because Sam Junior is kind of a mouthful. He's christened Samuel, but we just call him Sammy.”
“Dad,” Sammy said, shaking his head and smiling at Peggy.
“Sorry Junior,” said his dad giving Peggy a wink.
“Can Peggy stay for dinner?” Sammy asked his dad, leaning casually against the kitchen counter.
Peggy's eyebrows shot up, dinner with his dad? Serious. It was serious. He was serious. He was serious about her. She dried her hands on a tea towel and tried to calm down.
“I was just going to run down to Super Pan for pizza and ribs, is that OK for you Peggy? We don't really do a lot of proper cooking around here.”
“Can we get hot wings too?” Peggy asked.
“And garlic bread,” his dad said.
“Do you need to call your aunt?” Sammy asked.
“Call?”
“To tell her you won't be home for dinner?”
“Oh, yeah.” Peggy shook her head, she wondered if she’d ever get used to life without her phone. “Can I use your phone?” she asked.
* * *
“She reminds me of her,” Peggy heard his dad say softly to Sammy as she walked back from the bathroom after three slices of pepperoni pizza, six hot wings, two cans of 7UP. She really wasn’t feeling that well. The good news was that she was feeling much more comfortable eating in front of Sammy. Perhaps a little too comfortable gurgled her stomach.
“She's nothing like her,” Sammy said shortly.
“I don't mean the pills. I mean before that, before Jessie. It's the integrity.”
“She's got that.”
Peggy didn't want to listen, but she couldn't walk back in when they were talking about her.
“She's not like those other girls Sammy.”
“Dad, please.”
“Sorry son. Just don't screw this up. Good women don't come along that often.”
“I'm gonna try not to, but you know I'm not good at this stuff.”
“Well you gotta get good and get good fast.”
Peggy walked quietly back towards the bathroom and then walked back again towards the kitchen again noisily, so they’d hear her coming.
Sammy looked up from stacking the plates and smiled at her. Not the half smirk, but a real genuine smile. She grinned back.
“I should get you home,” he said.
“Yeah, Janet's pretty heavy on her curfew these days.”
“It was so nice to meet you,” his dad said, shaking her hand, this time greasing it up with pizza grease instead of car grease.
“Thanks Sam. You too.”
* * *
Sitting outside Janet's house in the Firebird Sammy tapped the wheel with his hands anxiously. “I'm not that good at this,” he began.
“What?” asked Peggy.
“Being with someone, not just for fun.”
“This isn't fun?” she made a face at him.
“You know what I mean.”
“I'm not that great at it either. Jack always says I'm the stupidest person when it comes to love,” the word love hung in the air.
“I need to meet this Jack sometime,” said Sammy.
“He probably wouldn't like you,” she joked. “He’d say I could do better.”
“I’m sure you could,” said Sammy leaning over to give her a warm, slow, lingering goodnight kiss. “Now go get inside before Janet doesn't like me either.”
She walked up to the door. The knot in her stomach fading away as she thought about how perfect the evening had been. She looked back at his car and smiled.
And he waited until she was safe inside before driving away.
Thirty-Six
Road Trip
By the time the school trip came around Peggy was completely, hopelessly, head over vintage heels in love. She was living her life on the edge of a cliff. Constantly teetering between feelings of euphoria and terror. She was flying high as a desert eagle one moment and laying crushed and broken like an old cigarette butt the next.
It was late afternoon when Lacey turned off the engine of the Chevette. Peggy couldn't read a paper map, so Tricia had navigated from the back seat. They'd all been up since stupid-o'clock and it was now taking a toll on them.
“This looks horrible,” Lacey moaned, looking out at the camp site.
“If they put the middle of nowhere on a map, this is where it'd be,” Tricia said.
“Come on,” said Peggy, taking it upon herself to be the optimistic one. “It's going to be fun.”
Lacey and Tricia rolled their eyes.
But it had to be fun. This may be the only trip Peggy would ever go on with Sammy. She’d tried to focus on just enjoying the present moment, but she was sinking deeper and deeper into despair. Lacey and Janet were sure they would be able to change his future together and there were moments Peggy felt the same. She had to change his future. But there were also times she felt there was nothing at all that could be done.
Lacey struggled with her ridiculously big bright red suitcase across the dirt towards the nuns who were checking everyone in. Tricia and Peggy slumped off after her with their duffle bags.
“You girls are in tent sixteen, over by that tree.” Sister Constance growled from beneath
her habit. Even the nuns were struggling.
Lacey groaned.
Tricia looked as if she was about to murder someone. “I can’t imagine Hell being that much worse than this,” she said.
Lacey looked as if she was about to cry. Peggy reached an arm around her, but Lacey quickly shrugged it off. “Don’t touch me, what if I get sweaty and I need a shower? I can’t go shower in there.” Lacey pointed to a huge crumbling slab of cement with a shower sign out the front.
“It’s probably not as bad as it looks.” Peggy said.
“It’s worse,” said Tricia, pointing to their tent. It was half falling down and looked beyond pathetic.
“I don’t know anything about tents,” Lacey said, shuddering.
“We’ll get through this Lace, I promise,” Peggy said unconvincingly.
“At least it’s not bear season yet,” Tricia said.
“Bears?” squealed Lacey.
“Meet at the campfire at six!” yelled out some peppy preppies dressed in shorts and sweaters who had clearly spent their summers at summer camp while Peggy had spent hers at home alone watching old movies and reading old Sweet Valley High books.
The three girls stared down the preppies and then evaluated their tent. Tricia opened the flap slowly, crouched down and went in.
“It’s not so bad once you’re in,” she said, sticking her head out of the flap.
“It smells!” Lacey whined.
“It kind of does. It smells old and moldy,” Peggy said.
“I can’t do this,” Lacey said, flapping her hands and beginning to flip out.
“Yes, you can,” Peggy said, grabbing Lacey’s hand.
“No, I really can’t.” Lacey began to cry. She was kind of an ugly crier, which made Peggy want to laugh a little, but instead she put her arms around her. Lacey cried into Peggy’s pale pink shirt and Peggy wondered if this was how Jack had felt most of his life being her friend.
“Need a little help?” the voice startled them both.
“Hi Sammy,” Lacey said, pulling away from her friend, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
Peggy thought Sammy looked like he’d just stepped out of an old movie. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing a faded pair of jeans, a grey t-shirt and an old pair of sneakers. It was weird seeing him in sneakers.
“Hey,” Peggy smiled awkwardly at him. They were still being chill around everyone else and so Peggy never really knew how to act around him. Well, she’d never really known how to act around him anyway, but now it was for different reasons.
“Yes, we need help,” Lacey said.
“I’ve got some spare stuff in my car, I’ll go get it.”
* * *
“It’s pretty big, all three of you could probably share it,” Sammy said when he and Ben had finished pumping up the mattress and had covered it with sleeping bags and some of Sammy’s own blankets and extra pillows, that smelled very much like Sammy.
“Sammy, you’re so sweet I could almost kiss you!” Lacey hugged him.
“You better not,” said Peggy under her breath.
“This tent is terrible, who put this up?” he asked as he began taking out the pegs and putting the tent up for them properly.
“How many pillows did you bring?” asked Lacey as she looked at the massive bed all covered in cushions and blankets.
“I like to be comfortable when I go camping,” he said, hammering in a peg.
“You mean you like those girls to be comfortable, because Sammy dude, where’s all my pillows?” Ben asked.
“We’re men Ben, we can sleep on the floor,” said Sammy.
“Then why did you bring all this stuff?” asked Ben.
“Shut up,” said Sammy.
Lacey giggled.
“Do you go camping a lot?” Peggy asked as Lacey went inside the tent and fell on the bed with Tricia.
“I haven’t been for a while, but yeah. Me and my dad used to go all the time when I was a kid and I go out sometimes on my own, just to get away for a while.”
When he was finished, the tent looked like something they could almost sleep in for a night.
“Don’t tell Rochelle and Leigh that he did that for you,” Ben said as Sammy went to help out with a few other tents that were falling down.
“Are they even here yet?” asked Lacey.
“Nah, but when they do, they’re gonna be pissed they missed out on the bed stuff,” Ben said.
“Maybe they won’t show?” Peggy hoped.
“Sammy Ruthven sleeping in a tent just yards away from where Peggy Martin is sleeping, and you think Rochelle is just going to stay home?” asked Tricia, rolling her heavily made up eyes. “I'm sure.”
* * *
Rochelle, Leigh and Nick still hadn’t turned up by sunset and had managed to miss the preppy campfire that was about the worst thing Peggy had endured in a long time. After a dinner of hot dogs cooked by the nuns the preppies had put on a show. They performed an embarrassingly bad skit pretending to be all the teachers and some of the nuns. It was so cringe-worthy, and no one was impressed except a couple of jocks who cheered like total Neanderthals. Peggy guessed some things were always the same. The show was followed by a guy playing camp songs badly on a guitar while June-Belle sang along loudly and off key, and as soon as it seemed like they had stayed long enough for it to be noted that they had been there at all, they left.
“So tomorrow we’re going to the Grand Canyon, that’s pretty cool,” said Ben, shining his flashlight out in front as they were walking back in the direction of their tents.
Peggy thought about the photo in the yearbook. She wondered if she could change the photo. Maybe if she wore something different or stood somewhere else the picture in the yearbook would change.
“I need a drink,” said Tricia.
“Should we be worried about Nick and the groupies?” asked Lacey, flicking her flashlight all over the place.
“I’m sure they’ll show up when they want to. They’ve probably booked into a hotel around here somewhere,” said Tricia.
“Why didn’t we do that?” moaned Lacey.
“This could be way more fun,” suggested Sammy.
“Oh really, how exactly?” asked Lacey.
“I’ll show you, come on,” he said.
* * *
Before too long they were sitting around a small fire that Sammy had made far enough away so that no one would come out looking for them. The sounds of the night were haunting. Nondescript animal noises, rustling, branches snapping. Everything was making Peggy jump. Her nerves were shot as it was, and this was giving her the creeps majorly. All she wanted to do was snuggle up to him and put her head on his shoulder, but he sat on the other side of the fire from her, pretending to be cool and so she followed his lead and did the same. It was kind of dumb, it was only Ben, Lacey and Tricia round the fire, and they all knew exactly what was going on. Peggy didn't want to miss a moment of touching him or being close to him. She didn’t have time to be this far away from him. The knot in her stomach lurched just as Ben handed her a bottle of rum. She took a sip and made a face as it burned her throat.
“We should play spin the bottle,” laughed Lacey.
“I’ll play!” said Ben enthusiastically.
Peggy and Sammy swapped a look.
“No,” said Tricia taking the bottle and taking a swig.
“What about truth or dare?” Peggy suggested, feeling like a total dork as soon as it came out of her mouth. As if people like Sammy and Lacey, especially Tricia, would ever play truth or dare.
“I love truth or dare!” Lacey beamed, the fire light making her face look simultaneously creepy and beautiful.
“Who first?” asked Ben.
“OK, OK, someone ask me a question!” Lacey demanded.
“OK,” Peggy began, “who at school would you most like to…” Peggy blushed as she remembered that just inches away from her Sammy was sitting cross legged, drinking rum and staring into the fire. The guy at
school she would most like to… Afraid she’d get the question back at her she changed it. “Who at school would you most like to be?”
“Apart from just staying myself, that’s easy, you!”
“Me?” Peggy asked, laughing.
“Yeah sure.”
“Why the hell would anyone want to be me?”
Sammy stifled a laugh.
“Because you’re great. You’re a breath of fresh air around this place. Seriously. You are so pretty and really nice. Like you’re just kind and nice and sometimes I’m not that nice and I wish I was a bit more like you. Pass the rum.” She snatched it off Sammy and took a swig.
“Uh, wow, thanks.” Peggy had not been expecting that answer.
“OK, my turn to ask someone…” Lacey looked around. “Sammy.”
“Yeah?” asked Sammy.
“Did you ever... kill a man?” Lacey asked quite seriously. They all laughed.
“What kind of question is that?” Sammy asked. “Of course I never killed a man.”
“Would you ever kill a man?” she re-phrased.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“I’d do it in self-defense, or in defense of someone I cared about, sure I would. Wouldn’t we all?”
Shadows cast on Sammy’s face made him look older, he was no longer just a high school kid, he was all versions of Sammy. Ageless. All this time she’d been hung up on him being her dad’s age, Peggy realized he may never even live to be her dad’s age, not in her present, not ever.
“I'd kill Jonas if he ever tries anything like that again,” Sammy said, passing the bottle again.
“You can't just kill Jonas, Sammy,” said Lacey.
“I might have to if I wanna get the eights to stop following me around.”
“I hope you're joking,” said Ben.
“Of course, I'm joking,” he said, but his voice had an edge to it.
“OK, you have to ask someone now,” Lacey said.
“Peggy,” he said. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest at the sound of her name spoken from his lips.
“Yes?” she asked.
Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance Page 23