Fallen Crest High (8 page)

"We're getting married."

I hesitated
for
a beat. "And I repeat, what happens when he breaks up with you?"

"Didn't you hear me? James proposed to me. We announced it tonight at dinner."

"Oh," I bit out. "Well, then I'm so sorry your daughter wasn't there to represent your side of the family. He
had his two sons, right?
Their
friend too?"

Her eyes narrowed again and she was still, so still.

I laughed, mocking. "And you looked at your side of the table and there was my empty chair. You were humiliated, weren't you?"

"Yes." Her teeth were gritted together.

"I'm humiliated every day we're here. I'm humiliated you left dad for this—"

"You will watch your words."

"I won't. Why should I? You don't watch yours." I pressed a fist into the side of my face. My hand had grown numb and I laughed. It rumbled from the bottom of my stomach and gurgled out. The sound sent chills down my own spine. "I love you. I'm divorcing you."
A pause.
I glanced up and held her eyes. "Your father loves you."

Her eyes went wide and she paled again. This time she was as white as a sheet.

I let out a deep breath, one to calm me, but the storm started to take over. "Your father will always love you. I'll always love you. I'll protect you. I'll put you first in my life." My mouth twisted into an ugly smile. "It was all lies, wasn't it,
Analise
?"

"You know," she breathed out. She looked horrified.

"Why are you marrying him? You just want to find a new daddy for me? David couldn't keep lying to me anymore?"

"That wasn't….this isn't…Oh, Samantha…" A sob came from her.

"Stop it," I snapped out.

Her mouth clenched shut and she watched me. A tear came to her eye.

"You don't get to feel bad for yourself." My whole body started to shake. "I wish I'd never been born from
yo
—"

She swung her hand wide and it smacked against my cheek. This time it hit across my nose and as my head was thrown to the side, I tasted blood. I glanced up, felt my insides churning, and fisted my hand. I threw my whole body behind.

I watched her in slow motion. She looked from my face to my hand and her mouth formed a small o. Her eyes widened, but then something caught me. I was hauled backwards in the air and against something. I tried kicking free, but an arm held on tight around my waist.

"Samantha!"

"Let me go." I kept kicking, until I heard laughter from behind.

"You could help," a male voice reverberated from behind my ear.

"I think you got it under control."

I was swung around and I saw Logan, James, and the friend in the doorway. Logan wiped a hand over his face as he continued to laugh. The friend was fighting back a smile and James gave me an emotionless expression.

I doubled my struggle.

Mason's arms tightened around me.

"Let me go. I won't hit her."

He grunted and dropped me.

I swung around and he watched me with caution.

Then I swiveled on my heel and went to bed. Not a word was spoken behind me and when I left the next day,
Mousteff
gave me a sheepish smile as he handed out his brown bag. I took it as I passed and met my
da
—David a block away. He was quiet when I got in the car, but I felt his attention. His eyes raked over my face, but he didn't say a word. I breathed out in thanks when
we pulled into the parking lot. I hurried from the car before he got out of his side and I was in the school early enough so no one was in the hallways.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion.

Jessica and Lydia kept their distance. Jill Flatten sneered as she passed by once. Her arm was curled around Jeff's. He avoided my gaze and stared straight ahead. Then there was Becky. She gushed about the
Kade
brothers and how they had talked to her. She asked once about my hands and I lifted them. It was funny. I'd forgotten about their pain until she asked, but then she started to gush about Adam Quinn in the next breath.

Apparently, he told her that he did want to ask me out.

My hands had started to hurt again, but I listened to her story
and tried to block the pain out
. I asked her when he said he wanted to ask me out. She looked the other way while one of her shoulders jerked up in a shrug.

Adam Quinn never said a word.

Over the next week, things were at a bypass at home.
Analise
avoided me. I avoided her. And the boys seemed to have disappeared.

It was perfect.

When I got to school on Thursday, the rumors started.

I was a whore.

Jeff dumped me because I had herpes.

Lydia and Jessica were my friends because my mother bribed them.

My own dad hated me, he barely talked to me.

Then I cornered Becky at her car one day and demanded to know where the rumors had come from.

She squealed as she got red in the face, "Lydia."

My eyebrow rose up.

"And Jessica."

I waited.

"And Jill Flatten. She really hates you."

"I knew it."

Then Becky said in a small voice, "And Ashley
DeCortts
."

"Wait—what? Why does she hate me?"

"Because Adam likes you."

I rolled my eyes. The guy didn't give a damn. When'd she drop this obsession of hers?

"What else could go wrong?" I muttered under my breath.

The back door burst open at that moment and the football team jogged across the parking lot on the way to the field. Their spikes clattered against the tar and the sound was soon deafening.

"Hi," Becky squeaked with a small wave.

I turned to see that Adam Quinn had fallen to a walk as he drew close. He stopped with his helmet in one hand and a water bottle in the other. Up close, I saw why so many girls wanted to love him. Striking blue eyes, golden curls with streaks from the sun, and a square jaw that would've sent romantics swooning. Hell, they already did.

He towered over us with shoulder pads that made his already muscular shoulders larger. His chest tapered down to a slender waist and he grinned at Becky. His eyes scanned to me. "You need a ride home, Becky?"

"No." She sounded breathless. "My mom let me use her car this week."

"Good old Nancy." His grin brightened. "Am I still invited for chili and cornbread this weekend?"

Becky's foot started to push a rock back and forth on the ground. She didn't look up.
"Yeah, of course.
I know Eddie might come home this weekend."

"That's great. I've missed your brother." He cast me another questioning look.

I sighed and held out my hand. "I'm Samantha."

His hand enveloped mine. They were rough, slightly calloused, probably from throwing the football, but they weren't so rough to the touch. I could see why he dated Ashley
DeCortts
, the girl that seemed to reign over the cheerleaders. I suppose she daydreamed about the Ken Barbie he reminded me of, how he must've been the prince to her damsel in distress fairytale.

"I know. Adam Quinn."

"I know."

We grinned at each other.

"How're your hands?"

A faint scowl came to me. I remembered that he'd been there. "Oh, they're…" I lifted them up and shrugged. "I guess they're okay. They'll heal."

"You can drive home today?"

"What?"

"I saw your car here that night. Then I saw coach take off. I figured maybe you didn't have a ride or something."

"Oh, yeah.
No, I'm fine. I've been driving all week."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

Becky continued to hang her head and I arched an eyebrow.

"So," he watched her too. "Are you guys going to the beach party tomorrow night?"

Her head snapped up and her cheeks were in flames.

Not surprised.

Then she mumbled out, "I'
dlove
to,
butIdon't
know
whereit's
at."

"There's a party?" I asked with a frown at my redheaded friend.

"Yeah."
His teeth were blinding. "You could both go with me?"

Becky whirled to me. Her eyes were fervent with hope.

"I…" I wanted to say no, but a stricken look came to her eyes. I crumbled. "Sure. You can pick us up at Becky's."

"Great."

"Great."

Becky breathed out, "Great!"

"I'll—uh—I'll see you then, I guess?"

I nodded. "See you then."

He jogged after the team, but glanced back with a small wave before he got onto the field.

Becky whooshed out, "I can't believe I'm going to a party with Adam Quinn."

My shoulder nudged her. "Maybe there's hope for you after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Here's your big chance." I gave her a duh look. "He's going to be drinking. You're going to be drinking. I can drive us home…"

Then she squeaked again and clamped her mouth shut. Her cheeks got big and her whole body was soon red, even her hands and fingers.

I laughed. "Now you just have to figure out what you're going to wear."

As I headed to my car, I heard her groan behind me. Somehow, things didn't seem so bad when I had a friend to distract me. Too bad it wouldn't keep. I wanted something to keep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Becky was bouncing off the wall when I got to her house the next afternoon. I was dressed in see-through white summer dress that tied behind my neck. My black bikini was visible underneath and I had on simple black flip flops. While I was going for comfort, Becky wanted sexy.

She let out a dramatic groan and collapsed on her bed when I went to her room. One of her arms had been pulled through a black tube top, or that's what it looked like. A blinding rainbow colored bikini top had been pushed up. When she rolled over, she cried out, "I can't fit into anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"I have nothing, nothing! I'm so fat, Sam."

I frowned and grabbed her hand to pull her up. When she looked at me, I shrugged. "What do you want me to say? If you're trying to be a model, you need to lose weight. I think you're fine just how you are."

"Thanks a lot," she grumbled.

"I thought friends were honest." I flashed a grin.

She stood back up and struggled to pull the rest of her tube top over her left boob. Then she started to hop around. "Yeah, but it'd be easier to take if you didn't look how you did."

I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest.

She paused mid-hop. "That's a compliment."

"Oh." I loosened my arms. "My mom's always on me about my weight."

"You could gain some. You want mine?"

I chuckled and watched as she continued to hop around, sometimes skip around the room. After an hour, when Becky stopped to pant with beads of sweat on her forehead, I gestured to a dress in her closet. "Why don't you just wear that?"

"Ugh." She let out another drawn-out groan. "That makes me look like a tan marshmallow."

"It does not. You wore it to the first day of school. I thought you looked nice."

Her eyebrows arched high. "I didn't know you knew who I was back then?"

I shrugged. "I didn't, but I still thought you looked nice."

"Your
besty
Jessica called me fatso that day."

I rolled my eyes. "If she went out of her way to call you a name that meant you looked good. And I bet some guy she wanted to flirt with was looking at you instead."

"You think?"

"I know so."

"It's my last option anyway. I need to lose weight, or buy new clothes and I refuse to buy new clothes." She grimaced. "My bank account won't allow it and I can't live down the fact that I'm a size larger since last year."

"You could go running with me."

She shot me a dark look. "I'm not that desperate. I'll try walking first."

When she pulled on the black dress, it fit her. It was snug in places it was supposed to be and loose in places that she was embarrassed about. After a few twirls in the mirror, I gave her the thumbs up and waited until she finished her make-up.

I called to her in the bathroom, "This is a beach party, right?"

"Hmmm
mmm
."
Her voice was muffled from the bathroom.

"So why are you putting make-up on?"