Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“How’s your schedule looking?” a voice behind me asks.

I turn around and see a boy, a young man really, with brown and hazel eyes and dark brown hair. He looks familiar, someone I went to middle school with I believe. “I got most of the classes I wanted, though I didn’t get my athletics class. Instead, they gave me something in the library,” I share.

“That’s cool. I got the classes I signed up for. I got the athletics class I wanted too. There must have just been too many people that signed up,” he offers.

“I suppose so. I’ll be fine, I’ll just ask for it again for next year,” I reason and begin to turn back around.

“Have you always taken advanced English?” he quickly asks.

I turn back around and face him. His eyes are prettier than most. Normally brown eyes are just plain, but his are mixed with hazel as well. He’s got a natural red coloring to his cheeks, and his chin and upper lip have a small layer of facial hair coming in, something I’m sure he’s proud of. His hair comes down to his eyebrows in the front and layers down along his face, coming just to the base of his neck in the back. “Yeah, my parents have always insisted I take advanced classes for everything,” I reply. He’s not slim, but he’s not fat either. He’s kind of husky, but the slightly noticeable definition in his forearm suggests that the majority of it is muscle. “I’m Sam.”

“I’m Jack,” he says, holding out his hand. I shake his hand and let a small smile appear, one he returns with a heartwarming grin. This boy, Jack, had the kind of smile that makes you want to smile on principle.

“What all classes do you have?” I ask, suddenly wanting to know how much of him I was going to be able to see.

 

“Do you play?” Alex asks, focusing on the strings of his acoustic as he tries to remember a Three Days Grace song he once learned.

“I started to a while back when my mom bought an acoustic for her college class, but I never got far with it,” I explain.

I study Alex and his determination in playing. He plays other instruments too. He’s confirmed skills with the piano and the drums, though I’m sure there’s more. Alex is a really good manager, and it’s not surprising that he was given this store in the district. I’m not sure how long he’s had it, but he had it long before I came along around six or seven months ago. We became friends quickly and have just gotten closer since.

We’re the same type of person, you see. We both enjoy all kinds of music, aside from country. Often, during our main business hours, we’ll start singing old songs from Fall Out Boy and Linkin Park. We both make the same jokes and play the same video games. We get along well. However, he’s in his twenties and married with two kids, soon to be three. I’m sixteen and my father works for another store in the chain. Therefore, our friendship will never go beyond sitting for a little while after work and the occasional conversation online, though our socializing at work will never cease.

“You know, you’re an alright kid, Sam,” Alex says, pausing for a moment and looking over at me.

I smile and return, “Thanks, Alex. You’re cool, too.” Maybe in another life, I often tell myself. Alex and I are on two separate roads. They just happen to go parallel to each other, so we’re able to have some distant company.

 

“Happy anniversary, babe,” Jack says, handing me the little ring he’d shown me a week or so ago. It wasn’t an engagement ring or anything, more like a promise ring, I’d say. We’ve been together for a year now, and I can’t name a single real problem with our relationship. We’re like best friends, but there’s that romantic touch. We’re always making each other laugh, noticing and analyzing the same things in society, enjoying the same literature and news in science. We fit better than anyone could hope for.

“I love you,” I say, smiling as I take the ring. I finger it for a moment, looking at the nicely cut amethyst, amethyst being his birth stone. It’s got a bit of a seventeenth century feel too it, simply from the base and band design. I believe he said it was called a ‘cathedral style’ ring. I slide it onto the ring finger on my right hand and admire it for a moment. Then I turn to him and kiss him, feeling his hand come up to my cheek. My heart feels warm and racy at the same time. I feel comfortable, nonetheless, as I always do with Jack.

When we pull away, and his eyes meet mine, genuine happiness and pure sincerity fills them. “I love you, too, Sam,” he says, smiling just as much as I was.

 

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you are still my child. And you will treat me and recognize me as your parent,” my mother says, using the tone she always uses when we have this argument.

 “I’m seventeen now, mom. I have my own job; I pay for my own things, my own gas, food, clothes. I know you’re my parent, you’re my mom. But you have to understand I’m not just your daughter now. I have responsibilities. And I take care of myself now,” I explain, becoming quickly irritated and hurt by her belittling of me and all that I’ve accomplished in the past year.

“I can take your job away as quickly as you got it, and you can lose it just as fast,” she snaps.

“What is your problem? Why can’t you just accept that I’ve made something of myself? I have a job. How many parents around here can say that their kids have a job? Why can’t you just treat me like the young adult I’m becoming? Why is it so hard for you to show me even a little respect?” I argue.

“I try to show you respect, but it’s a little hard when you act like such a child,” she spits at me, probably with more venom than intended judging by the look that sets itself in her eyes. My mother has never respected me for anything I’ve ever done. All she does is point out my flaws. After being told I wasn’t worth garbage for so many years, I can barely take being treated like I haven’t accomplished any of the things I have. I hold my own job, pay my car payment, and take care of myself at this point. But all she and my father, who apparently had an epiphany three years ago and stopped treating me like trash, can ever do is point out all the things I do wrong or don’t do at all. I never get any recognition for anything. After years and years of being convinced I’d never be anything, having them imply it even now, after everything, makes me thing they must be right.

 

“I think it’s just time we go our separate ways,” Jack says, looking me directly in the face. For a moment I’m silent. I don’t understand what he’s just said. We’ve been together for fourteen months. What does he mean by ‘separate ways’?

“What are you talking about?” I say, sounding fairly detached, I’ll admit.

“We fight almost every day. And every time I turn around you’re guilt tripping me about something. This relationship is making me miserable,” he defends, looking away now at something off in the distance.

“But…you promised we would work this out.  You promised you weren’t going to go anywhere. What about the plans we made? What about the promises that you made, to me?” I challenge, my voice beginning to shake.

Fourteen months. We’ve been together for fourteen months. And he wants to leave me. But…I’m in love with him. I’ve opened up to him and let him know every dark secret of my past and all of the emotional scars life has given me that have ultimately crippled me beyond repair. I’ve given him everything; I’ve been there for him every time he needed me for whatever he needed. He said he loved me. He told me that he was in love with me, months ago. I don’t understand.

“What did I do? I promise I’ll fix it, everything. Just, please…please don’t’ leave me,” I plead, in a voice so small I feel as though I may just vanish right here, in this moment. I feel my heart breaking, and I feel anxiety building in my chest. “You can’t leave me…please…”

“I’m sorry, Sam. Things will be better this way. You don’t see it now…but they will. You’ll be happier; we both will,” he justifies, still not looking back at me. I look at the ground and feel the hot tears slide down my face. There’s a ringing in my ears now and my heart is beating so hard I feel like I could have a heart attack. “Goodbye Sam. I’ll always love you,” he offers. He stands there for a moment, and then he walks away.

I drop to my knees on the sidewalk, tears still flowing steadily from my eyes. “Please don’t leave me…” I whisper. I feel my mind slowly shutting down, a coldness filling my insides. I hear his car start and fade in the distance as he leaves the parking lot. I knew we’d been having problems, arguing a lot, but we were working on them. He promised we’d work on them. And now he just…gave up. He left me. I let my body lay over on the sidewalk and just began sobbing, wanting more than anything for this to all just be a dream.

 

“What time do you get off work?” my mom asks, watching me gather my phone and keys.

“I’m not sure. It’s not one of my close nights, but I know I stay late. I actually get off at midnight, but she gives me very little time to myself anymore. She knows what he did shattered me and all the pieces I had worked so hard to piece back together throughout my life. She probably is secretly worried I’m going to try to off myself like I thought about so many years ago.

“Well, just call me when you get off, okay?” she asks, observing me as I slide my apron over my head, reaching to my back to tie it around.

“I always do. Bye mom, I love you,” I say, starting for the door.

“It’ll get better, Sam. I promise. Eventually, it’ll hurt less…I love you too,” she said.

The words stop me in my tracks, her referencing to him, what he did. I feel my heart rate speed up a bit and the anxiety slowly creeping up on. I shake it off and let my emotional switch flip. I grab my keys and walk out the door, hoping my shift goes by quickly.

 

“Even though I’m deathly afraid of heights, I want to fly on an airplane before I die,” Dare said, looking up at the stars with me, legs crossed in front of him a foot or so from the edge of the dock.

“Yeah, me too, although I’m not afraid of heights like you, child,” I tease, giving a small smile, something that comes so rarely to me now.

“Oh, right, okay,” he says, expressing mock offense, smiling back.

For a moment we’re silent, just looking at the stars. Darrian and I have been best friends for two years now. We became close shortly before Jack and I got together. Jack and I were best friend for almost a year before I willingly ventured down the road he’d been waiting on. Thinking of Jack brought the heart shattering pain back to my mind, remembering his words that day not so long ago. It’d only been three weeks, but it had felt like three months. Dare tried his best to distract me and help the pain go away, but he knows there’s not much he, or anyone else, can do at this point.

“He still texts me all the time,” I say quietly.

“I wish he wouldn’t. It’s a real dick move. He made this choice; he did this to you two. I don’t know why he insists on trying to be ‘best friends’ and close with you. It’s not right, Sam,” he says, his voice slightly rough, filled with the often present agitation he can’t help when I mention Jack now.

“I don’t’ know…” I almost whisper, looking down at the water.

“Why are you letting him do this to you?” Dare pleaded, looking at me now. Dare loves me, he really does. That’s why I hate being around him now. My pain makes him hurt too, and it isn’t fair.

“We’re still taking that road trip when I graduate, right?” I question, looking back up at the stars, desperate for a subject change before I start crying like I so often do now when I’m alone.

He sighs and also looked back up at the stars, not wanting to let the topic drop but knowing that pushing it on me would be dangerous. “Of course, we are.”

“Good.” We’re both silent for a moment, just admiring the stars. I’ve always been able to just sit with Dare, not needing to say anything. We’re alright for each other, as far as best friends go.

“Stand up slowly and turn around,” commands a foreign male voice. I feel something hard and cold press against the back of my head.

 

“You’re going to be fine, Sam. You have to be,” he argued, his voice quivering. I saw that his eyes had become soft again but not like before. They seemed dark and vulnerable now. I couldn’t feel anything other than my face now, and I could hear the blood dripping off the dock into the water. “We have to get you to the car so we can go get help,” he said starting to slide his arm under me.

“I think we both know the nearest hospital is a good forty minutes away, Dare,” I admitted. I’m going to die on this dock. After everything, I’m going to die right here, choking on my own blood. I’m seventeen years old. I live in a little redneck county that’s greatest accomplishment is being included as a priority location for most successful business chains.

“Then tell me what to do. Sam, you have to tell me what to do. How do I fix this?” Darrian pleaded, starting to actually cry, something he claims to have not done since age eight. He tried to lift me up, but I choked again and sprayed blood. I started to feel kind of lightheaded and my whole body was feeling cold now.

“I think I really am a little too broken this time, sweetheart. But you can do me a huge favor,” I offered, trying to distract his mind from the immediate crisis that neither of us could do a thing about.

“Anything, what do you need?” he quickly affirmed.

“Tell Jack that I forgive him, and that I still love him,” I directed, starting to tear up myself.

Dare kind of looked down for a moment, and then looked back up with a certain sadness in his eyes, “Of course, babe.”

It had always felt strange but comforting when Dare used pet names for me. We have never been anything beyond best friends, but we just had that little connection that went beyond friendship but lacked romance.

My eyes felt heavy and I coughed again, only this time my throat didn’t clear. I kept coughing and spitting up more blood but I couldn’t clear my airways this time. My lung is filling up. It’s happening. I’m about to be erased from the world now. In mere minutes I will no longer exist and be nothing more than a mere memory. I looked at the moon, trying to ignore the cold, numbness that had overtaken my body. It’s funny how minutes ago time seemed to go by so slow, seconds seemed like minutes. But now, it seems like every minute is a mere second, and I’m fading entirely too fast.

“Sam, just hold on, okay? Breathe,” he pleaded, pushing my hair back and wiping the blood trail from my mouth. I caught glimpse of the moon, shining down over us. It was a full moon tonight and it looked so pretty. I’ve always enjoyed looking at the moon, especially on those special nights when it’s red for a little while and then transitions to yellow and then white again. “Sam?” I heard Dare call, but his voice seemed distant now. The moon really isn’t white when you look at it. It’s actually kind of silver. The stars are the real whites in the sky. I’ll miss the moon. I wonder if it will miss me. I wonder if anyone will miss me. After death, we all become memories that are too often forgotten, put on a shelf that is rarely even dusted.

Suddenly I wasn’t looking at the moon anymore. Everything was just kind of black. I wonder how many stars exploded somewhere in the galaxy tonight. They say there are more than one-hundred seventy billion galaxies filled with stars, stretching to over 13.8 billion light-years away. I have always wanted to be an aerospace engineer. Study the galaxy and the stars. I’ve always wanted to see a star up close…

 

Author's Note

If I have any grammar errors, please let me know. I generally don't make grammar and punctuation mistakes, but it happens. And it's hard to catch your own because you generally automatically see what you meant to type.
Other than that, I hope you enjoy and please provide feedback on what you enjoyed and improvements I can make. Thanks!

Reviews

[StefanC]

This chapter is fantastic.

I love the way the story jumps around from paragraph to paragraph, each time giving the reader more insight into Sam's life and the people important to her. The way it joins up with chapter one feels natural and is really well executed.

Dialogue and characters feel realistic and genuine. It's easy to empathise with them because of the quality of the writing.

Excellent work. I really enjoyed it.