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An intertwining vignette of Valentine's Day dates. |
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Prologue Samuel Moore knew that his friends inside the restaurant were waiting for him. He knew that while one of them was growing concerned, the other was growing impatient not so much with Moore’s absence but with the girl’s concern. He knew it was rude and very awkward for everyone else involved; but Sam was in the middle of a fairly important conversation that could have only been done in the privacy of the backseat of a parked car. “Farrino’s; you guys are at Joey Farrino’s?” a female voice was asking him, “I totally miss that place!” “I miss…” Sam began to answer before catching himself. The distance of a cell phone separated them and he still couldn’t get his words just right. And why not? Moore knew that if he got one word wrong, Lauren Claye would hang up on him awkwardly, putting a halt to the matter until the next time she bothered to answer her phone for him. He missed simpler times. He missed when he wasn’t the odd man out in these dating situations since there had been a time when Lauren had accompanied everyone as well. He missed—well, there was no real way to beat around the fact. He missed her. “Sammy?” the confused voice filtered in over the dead space of static separating the pair. “Sorry, Lo; I’m right here.” Sam replied, shaking his senses back together. The static filtered over the line and he knew what was about to happen. Goddamn cell phones! “I-It’s a---ght.” Lauren answered, “Anyw--, - was just saying that I really ---- the old restaurant and ju—hanging out wi—ev---one, --u know?” He knew. Oh, how he knew. Whether Lauren realized it or not, she was talking to the one person who knew the best what she was talking about and, in a matter of moments, this conversation would be over, either at her jurisdiction or at the dying phone signal’s. Soon, she would be lost to him until the next time she decided to actually answer her phone. “I completely understand where you’re coming from, Lo; believe me. I miss,” Sam began again; then, with every intention of finishing a coherent, honest thought, “you.” Dead, awkward silence. Sam removed the phone from his ear long enough to check the screen to be sure. Sure enough, the Florida sunset that served as his wallpaper stared back at him, confirming the worst. Either Lauren had hung up or the signals had cut off again. That phone call, a phone call that Lauren had actually picked up knowing it had been from Samuel Moore, had defined his Valentine’s Day weekend. Still, he also knew that he had been driven out to Joey Farrino’s on a mercy third-wheel opportunity by Tyler and Taylor; and they were probably wondering what the Hell had happened to him after they had gone out of their way to drive him to the Italian bistro and pub. I Tyler and Taylor; Taylor and Tyler; Tylor. They had been almost destined to find each other and since they had, roughly 90% of their mutual friends found their “power” relationship to be pretty obnoxious. 50% of that 90% went out of their way and told the “power couple” that they found the shared similarities between the two (from damn near the same name all of the way on down the list of shared interests), to be fairly nauseating. Regardless, the power couple stayed strong. The shared, similar interests could not be denied. Tyler Kerris’s primary interest was Tyler Kerris and, in Taylor Kristenson, he was determined that he had found a girl who shared his interests and concerns. She was devoted and caring and, granted that she was devoted to and cared for him, they were two of her best qualities. Still, when her concerns went elsewhere, even Tyler had to agree that she could get downright annoying. Even at their own Valentine’s weekend dinner, Taylor went from “endearing” to “annoying” as she voiced as follows: “Sammy’s been gone a long time, hasn’t he?” she asked, checking her phone’s clock. Sam had in fact been gone a long time and Tyler had specifically told him (though never in front of Taylor) that this had been a mercy invite to be treated accordingly. Yet, he was still abusing the privilege of the couple’s good graces. “Tyler, sweetie,” Taylor repeated, squeezing him by the hands to guarantee that she had his attention, “shouldn’t we check on Sam to see if he’s okay? I mean, he’s been out there a long time for a girl who refuses to answer her phone for him.” Taylor wasn’t going to drop this; what usually made her so endearing was now just plain annoying. “I’ll alert the search party.” Tyler piped up, crumpling his napkin, placing it back on the table, and rising away from his lavish meal and lovely girlfriend; all because of some geek. No sooner was Tyler out of his seat than the door to the posh, expensive restaurant and pub opened and a quick apology was delivered to the hostess. Moments later, a frenzied, distraught pipsqueak in glasses skidded to a halt at the campus “power couple’s” table. “I am so sorry about that, you guys.” He murmured, frenzied by the poor impression he was leaving, “The phone dropped the signal again. Lauren sends her regards; says she misses…the restaurant.” “That’s so sweet of her!” Taylor gushed, casually focusing on earlier times. Tyler forced a wry smile for the scrawny, near-sighted third wheel. “Don’t think a thing of it, bro.” he joked, amiably, “I mean, you are buying, right?” “Well,” Sam replied after a moment, “you guys did go out of your way to drive me out here; and it is kind of your Valentine’s Day dinner.” Tyler did all that he could to suppress the oncoming smirk of satisfaction. Whatever else could be said of “Scrawny, Single Sammy,” he still had three endearing qualities. He was overly apologetic, could afford to splurge, and was the kind of sap who could be counted on to do so. “You’re a real champ for buying for us, Sam.” Tyler applauded him, complete with the forthcoming question for his own benefit: “How is ‘Lammy’ holding up these days?” “Lammy.” Lauren and Sammy; Sammy and Lauren. “Next subject.” Sam requested, choking back his first sip of water. II Heather Morrison deserved a night off from the complications of life and a night on the town with her friends. Of course, for Valentine’s weekend, she also deserved to be with her boyfriend. A night at the local karaoke bar had been the compromise. Heather sat at a table, flanked by her gal pals as four of the five girls giggled and gushed over the performance in front of them. On the court, Travis King was the best center in the conference. With a few beers in his system, Valentine’s Day on everyone’s brain, and an openly receptive (primarily female) audience, he was spinning, grinning, slurring, and generally making a jackass of himself through the J Geils classic, “Love Stinks.” Heather tried to focus on anything but the performance placed in front of her. The smile on that drunken idiot’s face, mixed with the general demeanor that he stalked around with on campus, was enough to tell her that he didn’t know what he was singing about. His field experience in the dating scenario had been, and probably always would be, nothing short of something to brag about. Still, she appeared to be the only one of the five girls who knew the difference. “He is so suave; so debonair; such a performer!” Maria Willis gushed. Heather could concede with at least part of the general consensus on technicality. “Clowns” were still performers. Either way, it wasn’t her turn to talk. She said nothing. Maria, Lindsey, Ashlynn, and Jenny were enjoying themselves and this was supposed to be a pre-Valentine’s Day night off for all five of them. Still, Heather’s concerns were elsewhere than on the haphazard performance. She missed her boyfriend and could only wonder how he was holding up during everyone else’s celebratory weekend. As Ashlynn nudged Heather in an elbow, she voiced a few concerns about how Adam Hurst was holding up as well. “Where is that boyfriend of yours?” she demanded, “The five of us have been empty for, like, ten whole minutes and my buzz is wearing off!” “He’ll be right back.” Heather reassured everyone; though, truth be told, she kind of rooted for Adam to take his sweet time and make them all actually wait for gratification. Every time the girls got together like this, there always had to be at least one male escort to personally wait on their needs. Heather admitted to herself that for the last couple of months that escort was almost always Adam. At the end of each of these nights, she was always flat out disgusted with the way he had been treated. Disgusted with the rest of the girls for their treatment of him if their party nights didn’t go exactly to plan. Disgusted with Adam for smiling through the abuse. Mostly, however, she was disgusted with herself for allowing the abuse to continue. It was the forthcoming abuse for his tardiness that really concerned Adam Hurst as he maneuvered away from the bar, tray in hand. He knew he was running later than the girls liked to forgive but he had wanted to be absolutely certain that he got their drink orders just right; from the amount of requested ice to the beverage of choice and every decision in between. If he ever needed sufficient evidence to cross “bartender” off of his list of probable career paths, it occurred to him every time he was invited to “hang out” with Heather and her friends if only to wait on them hand and foot until they decided that the night was over. His job was to keep them satisfied in every aspect of their outings; and anywhere between one and all four of her friends was never at all shy about telling him right in front of Heather if he had messed up somewhere. It wasn’t really the abuse that concerned Adam anymore; the girls in question weren’t used to having to wait for things and they were extremely opinionated in their impatience. It was more of a question if Heather only really chastised the other girls’ rudeness for the benefit of saying so and secretly shared the opinion of her friends regarding him. As Hurst approached the table again, he caught at least four of the five girls falling all over Travis King’s over-the-top rendition of “Love Stinks.” As if King had the field experience with heartbreak to know what half of the ideas he was reiterating in his cups meant! Either way, Maria, Lindsey, Ashlynn, and Jenny were drooling over the performance. Heather seemed to be forcing her mind elsewhere. The question remained if that was more for Adam’s benefit than anything else. He knew what Heather’s friends said about him behind his back and it was because they had very few qualms or concerns about repeating the same things to his face. Worst of all, he knew what kind of pressure this was putting Heather under. And he hated himself for being the general source of that pressure. Adam set the drink tray on the table across from the girls, standing between them and the stage and shattering their concentration on the performance. Adam, Heather’s boyfriend and Maria et al’s whipping boy, sorted out the drinks in rapid-fire succession and with the precise accuracy of a sloppy bartender on his worst night. No ice for Maria. A shot of lemon for Ashlynn. Full ice for Lindsey. “Only half a glass” for Jenny. Most importantly, ice and lemon and an additional cup of water for Heather. Adam donated the tray onto an empty table for the next customers to use it to retrieve large bar orders and settled into an empty seat to rest his feet. Heather welcomed the additional company and reveled in the fact that Adam had allowed himself a break. No sooner was he in his seat and taking a load off of his feet, however, than he realized that four pairs of eyes were glaring at him disdainfully. “Everything alright with everyone’s order?” he asked. “Yeah, we’re great.” Heather affirmed, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Thanks, Adam.” “Anytime.” Adam replied, taking a sip of his own lemonade and settling into his chair to enjoy the company of his girlfriend. All was calm for a couple of moments until… “What do you want; a tip or something?” Maria asked, never redirecting her look of distaste away. Adam set his drink back down on the table, still a bit stunned by the behavior. “No; I just—“ he began, already launching well into full apology mode over the crime of wanting to be near his girlfriend and sliding his chair back to accommodate. “Drop him some treats.” Jenny suggested, “Maybe he’ll go away.” “He’s my boyfriend, not a dog!” Heather admonished her, pulling the chair back with Adam still in it. Around this time, Ashlynn had taken the first sip of her drink. As the beverage passed her delicate palate, the girl’s eyes went wide in despair and she spat the tainted beverage back into the cup desperately, barely missing getting the drink all over the table. “Well, your boyfriend sucks at getting our drink orders right.” She announced, jutting her lip out defiantly, “This is way too warm; and what the Hell is that? Ewww!” Around that same time, Lindsey spat her own sip of drink back into her glass, defeating the purpose of the girls swapping the drinks around for themselves. Adam thought for maybe a moment and realized what had happened, filing a mental note to chastise himself later. “Not enough lemon, Lindsey?” he asked, taking the two tainted drinks away. “No shit, Sherlock!” Lindsey seethed, “Also, are you trying to torture me with ice? It nearly froze one of my fillings loose!” Shot of lemon for Lindsey; full ice for Ashlynn. Adam could have kicked himself for being so stupid and inattentive to detail and wanted to hang himself for making the mistake in front of Heather two whole months into their relationship. “I’ll fix it.” Adam vowed, taking the two glasses away. “And try to be back at some point, like, this century!” came Ashlynn’s parting shot across what little remained of Adam’s dignity. Adam nodded diligently, murmured a dejected apology for not only having mixed up the orders in the first place but not getting back fast enough besides, and took off with the speed of a jack rabbit and diligence of a butler to get the return orders exactly right. He was long gone and the girls were reclining in their chairs to share the evening’s gossip. “Worst escort we’ve ever had!” Lindsey declared, loudly and proudly. “Really, love; we’ve been letting this guy skate by for a while now,” Maria added, “But you could really do so much better. I think Travis was winking at you from the stage.” “Travis and I tried that once and I’m with Adam now.” Heather replied. The sooner that the rest of her gal pals got used to that idea, the better it would be for everyone concerned. “But Adam is an idiot!” Jenny whined. Heather would never stoop to saying so but Jenny had raised a valid point. Adam was an idiot to keep putting up with this abuse every single weekend and Heather was an idiot for allowing her friends to continue to treat him like this. He was an idiot to continue to go out with them every weekend, knowing how he would be treated. Mostly, he was an idiot for thinking he had anything left to prove to Heather. She loved and appreciated him more than enough to make up for all of the other arrogant little elitist airheads put together. She only wished that he could reach that major conclusion for himself. Adam and his typical friends weren’t usually the kinds of guys fortunate enough to end up dating girls like Heather. Therefore, every time Adam and Heather went out, knowing that the rest of her posse would be along, Adam smiled through more than a few jokes about “six-ways.” Granted that they were all frequenting the same club as Travis King that night, Adam had to keep Heather’s friends entertained and satisfied or he could just see himself being stranded two nights before Valentine’s Day while the “six-way” actually happened…for Travis King. Adam raced back to the table (three minutes for two drinks in a bar full of other patrons) and deposited the full ice in front of Ashlynn and the shot of lemon in front of Lindsey. “I’m really sorry about that, girls.” Adam said, “I don’t know how I could have let that happen. Is everyone else’s order okay?” “We’re good here; thanks, Adam.” Heather replied, taking him by a hand and dragging him back to his seat to relax. Adam was settled back in his seat right next to Heather before Jenny piped up. Anyone who wasn’t legally blind read from the smirk cascading her lips that she had purposely waited until Adam had settled back in comfortably before reciting as follows: “Well since you asked and everything, you know, I’m pretty sure that the bartender filled my glass up to ¾ instead of ½ like I’d wanted.” “Jennifer!” Heather cried out, lunging out of her seat until only Ashlynn could interpose herself between the two girls. “I’ll get it, Jen.” Adam volunteered once everything at the table had settled down again. Still, Heather placed a forceful hand on his shoulder that told him otherwise. “Just drink what you want out of the glass, Jenny.” She advised, having calmed herself from the initial reaction of clawing the little brat’s eyes out. “You mean monitor my drink intake myself?” Jenny asked as all of the girls glanced oddly at Heather, “What has gotten into you lately?” From the looks on everyone’s faces, it was clear that Adam was wondering the same thing. Sure, Heather occasionally chastised her friends’ rudeness but it had never gone so far as to nearly result in a catfight because the bartender had messed up a drink order that it was the escort’s job to fix. Still, if everyone had been shocked already, the shock and awe was about to continue. Heather cleared out the table save for Adam as she told everyone else to scatter for five minutes. Maria, Lindsey, Ashlynn, and Jenny all seemed at least as stunned, if not more so, than Adam was. Still, considering that Travis was back to mingling with the crowd, they complied. Just the same, for Heather to have actually scattered the other girls for added privacy, Adam knew that something was wrong. Likewise, if there had been one thing his father had taught him, it was that a girl’s friends and family held plenty of sway over her relationship decisions; from dating all of the way up the line. And Heather’s friends were not too impressed by her latest decision, had never been very receptive of him and never missed an opportunity to say so right in front of her. Furthermore, Adam had seen firsthand how much sway a woman’s family and friends could have. Her own family, after thirty years of successful marriage (twenty-three of which had blessed Rebecca Hurst’s parents with a grandson), still could not get it through their heads that she had elected Martin Hurst to take away her maiden name “Lieber.” Thirty years of family pressure and one kid later, it had been around the same time that Adam had first gotten together with Heather that Rebecca Hurst (Lieber) had dutifully packed a few bags and, succumb to decades of family pressure, told Martin Hurst to not let the door hit him on the way out of her life. If years of mounting family pressure had done that to thirty years of marriage, could a mixed-up drink order (as only the most recent infraction) cause the split of a two-month dating relationship between the campus brain and cheerleader? “I hope that the girls will be okay about…you know…”Adam began. “I’m sure that they’ll be able to live with a mixed-up drink order; it’s about time that some of them learned to live without instant gratification.” Heather replied as she reached the crucial point of the reason for their personal conversation, “Why do you care so much what any of those little brats think, anyway? Last I checked, you were dating me and I happen to believe whole-heartedly that you’re a great guy.” Adam cared so much about everyone else’s opinion because of the underlying concern that maybe Heather was concerned about what her friends thought of them together and, consequently, what they thought of her as an individual. He cared so much because he had seen firsthand how a close knit unit of peoples’ collective ill opinion had severed an otherwise strong and successful marriage. He cared so much about everyone else’s opinion strictly because he cared so much about Heather. He couldn’t say any of this to her though. “Well, it would make things quite a bit easier on you if your closest friends were happy with us being together.” He offered, reaching for his lemonade. Still, the next thing he knew, his drink was out of his hand and all over his shirt. Heather had more to say on the issue at hand. “Adam Hurst,” she interjected, softly but sharply, “it would make things a lot easier on my life if you saw yourself for the same great guy that I see you as every day. It would make things a lot easier on my life if my closest friends decided to act the part and would butt out of my relationship with you. It would make things a hell of a lot easier on both of us if those four ever figured out that the world doesn’t revolve around them but I’m not holding my breath waiting for that day. I love you, Valentine’s Day is two days away, and in 48 hours, Maria, Lindsey, et al be damned, the two of us will celebrate together. Is that clear?” “Yes, ma’am.” Adam replied, complete with a mock salute; then, analyzing the stain on his shirt from the spilled drink, “Um, could you…?” Heather giggled in spite of herself and passed her napkin over, complete with an apologetic smile. Leave it to Adam and Heather to have to rely on a spilled drink (and the promise of a solo date) to break the ice between them. Forget what Maria or anyone else said. Heather had specifically reassured Adam that she adored him; and she had said so in a moment when he had been revealed at his weakest! What did Maria, Lindsey, Jenny, or Ashlynn know when it came to his relationship with Heather, anyway? And like magic, as if they had been summoned back by the knowledge they were so important as to have been spared a single straying thought, Maria, Lindsey, Jenny, and Ashlynn returned to the table. “Nice shirt, Poindexter.” Maria greeted the couple, pointing at the stain in the middle of the shirt and indicating the fracture for the world to see; then, ignoring Adam for what he was worth to her: “So, Heather, Valentine’s Day is in a couple of days and our mutual friend, Travis King, just asked me out!” The other three girls giggled over the fact that Maria had scored the date. Adam sucked in his breath over the fact that Travis was not only the school’s leading center but Heather’s ex-boyfriend besides. Then, along came Maria with the fact that she was now with Travis (at least, for Valentine’s Day). Adam hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath waiting for Heather’s answer to the challenge until he started realizing his lack of oxygen. Perfect; to offset the yellow stain in the middle of his shirt, his face had been turning blue! Heather and Travis, Heather and Adam, Maria and Travis… “That is so awesome!” Heather gushed, now sounding exactly like the rest of them, “Really; I couldn’t be happier for you guys! I was thinking that Adam and I would go to—“ “Oh great; you guys already made plans!” Ashlynn interjected, taking her seat back, “What are we talking about doing?” The silent tension could have been cut with a knife. Why wasn’t Heather setting everyone straight? Then Adam was nudged rather sharply in the elbow. He was expected to field this answer on his own behalf. But had he been expected to figure that part out for himself too? Aw, crap. Adam cleared his throat and faced down the blondes, waiting impatiently. “Heather and I were sort of discussing Valentine’s Day eve,” he announced, “alone.” That last word hung on the air for what felt like an eternity and all of the tension came rushing back. In that silence, Adam reached his own conclusions about why these girls gossiped so damn much while in large groups. Even a moment of silence in this crowd was deathly. “Heather!” Jenny gasped, “He just—“ “He said it; and we meant it, Jennifer.” Heather informed her. “But it’s Valentine’s Day,” Ashlynn wheedled, “it’s supposed to be spent with…” “…with the guy that I happen to love?” Heather asked. “But the guy you love is a loser.” Lindsey pouted. If Adam was waiting for her to add “no offense” or “lol; jk!” or anything remotely reflexive of an apology, he was in for a long wait. If Lindsey or any of the others had been waiting for Adam or Heather to cave to the silent pressure, they were in for a long wait as well. A third awkward silence in the middle of a very noisy karaoke bar followed until Maria and the others stalked out after Travis, wheedling him for a ride home. Adam craned his neck to follow the receding forms of four girls begging for the same ride home and promising the driver so much more. Then his attention flashed back to Heather and the fact that she’d stayed behind. Travis could have the “five-way” that was assuredly on the horizon for him. In the end, Heather Morrison had stayed with Adam Hurst. “Hey,” Adam said, turning in his seat to face the object of his attention, “about the way I just sort of treated your friends, they’ll be okay for Valentine’s Day, right? I mean, you’re all gorgeous; so, they all must have…someone.” “I think they all did at one point or another.” Heather replied thoughtfully, “But a lack of personality can really threaten to ruin a relationship. They’ll be fine; and as to how you just treated them, I still say it’s about time you stuck up for yourself.” It was all that Adam could do to stifle a laugh. Translation: the girls that Heather tended to surround herself with all treated their own boyfriends the same way that they treated Adam until the day that their own boyfriends had, arm candy aside, all grown tired of the verbal abuse. Then there was the issue of how Adam had just spoken to the other girls after months of abuse had built-up. Heather, the girl that he cared about more than anything in the world, wasn’t angry at his treatment of her friends; she was proud of him for sticking up for himself. All of Adam’s old concerns about everyone else’s collective opinion suddenly found a lower place on his list of importance. If the four of them thought that Adam was a carpet to be treaded on whenever they felt so inclined, then Heather thought the world of him and she had said so herself! In the middle of the crowded bar, Adam realized that he and Heather happened to be sitting face-to-face anyway and leaned in to kiss her innocently on a cheek. The next thing he knew, Heather’s head snapped around purposely and lips met lips in a passionate embrace. “Valentine’s eve; Farrinos,” Heather requested when she came up for air, “you and me.” “I’ll call in the reservations tomorrow and pick you up Monday at six sharp.” Adam murmured, leaning in close once more for the appropriate mixture of intimacy and confidentiality, “Damn, am I crazy about you!” Heather leaned closer into Adam and rested her head on his shoulder, smiling contently. The craziness was mutual. III Sam wandered back into his apartment late Sunday night with several bouts of guilt mounting on the conscience. Granted, like any well-meaning man of faith, he was coming in from church; but while his body was in the pew, his mind had been elsewhere. He had been sitting in the pew with the homily about “blahblahblah, something biblically important” going on in the background and he couldn’t shake the sense of loneliness interconnected to some date in the middle of February long enough to give the messages the attention that they deserved. Granted that most other peoples’ Valentine’s day was roughly three hours away, he had gone out of his way like a good little well-meaning man of faith to attend the evening service but it meant nothing if his head had been lost in a fog of self-pity. As to the guilt that he was feeling, it was one more thing to add to his list of personal woes. He had even gone all of the way over to church and had neglected to turn his phone off, having to settle instead for silencing it during the homily! Alone again in his bedroom, Sam remembered the phone, checked the data screen, and his heart skipped a beat. [8:28 p.m.; Sunday February 13; missed call from: LC]. He knew what “L.C.” stood for and the irony of the situation was enough to make a boy like Samuel Moore want to laugh or cry. He settled for a noise that was somewhere in between. He could dial until his fingers fell off trying to get a hold of Lauren Claye and, four out of five times, she would ignore him (that magic fifth time, his phone either dropped the call or she hung up on him, leaving Sam in his awkwardness). In return, the one time she called him, he hung up on her. Sam, his inability to pay attention at church notwithstanding, mouthed a prayer that Lauren would treat this one as a “call-back” and answer her phone as he dialed the number… It was Monday morning; February 14; the big day! Taylor’s cell phone got her out of bed at 8:00 a.m. Still, as the ringtone she had set aside for Tyler, she didn’t care. What was another hour of sleep? His text would state how much he loved her, tell her he couldn’t wait for that night, and wish her one extra “Happy Valentine’s Day” to get her through the day. She flipped open her phone and read the three words that could cause any girl’s heart to skip a beat or two: “Can’t do tonight.” Then, a second text as if he had forgotten something: “Sorry. Happy V-Day.” Those last few words set Taylor’s mood for the day and, likely, for “V(-alentine’s)” Days to come. This was her day; her “Christmas.” It had just taken a violent shove into being overrated anyway. She went to jam on her jacket (backwards), whirled and whined until she had turned her sleeves around properly, seized her backpack, and stalked off to class. Taylor wanted to meet the first person who wished her a “Happy Valentine’s Day” (better yet, “V”- Day) so she could vent in his or her face and they wouldn’t repeat the infraction. Sam wanted to sing adulations from the nearest available rooftop. Not only had Lauren answered her phone (and finished an actual conversation), she had called in the first place because she was dropping back into town for a job interview and wanted to score a dinner out of the deal. One, Samuel Moore, had an honest to Jesus date with a woman slated for Valentine’s Eve! That made whether or not Lauren Claye remembered what day it was an afterthought. Sam needed an ear to brag to about his good fortune and luckily, his roommate had also been an early riser that day and hadn’t left to walk Heather to class yet. Sam figured that out as soon as he bounded into the living room, a goofy grin lining his face, and nearly slammed into Adam. “What’s with you?” Adam greeted him, analyzing the leer quizzically, “Did you and Lauren make a pact that you wouldn’t try to call her nearly as often and she, in return, would actually go out of her way to pick up her phone once in a while?” “No; but we did make a date for tonight.” Sam replied. “Get out!” Adam answered, his face brightening on his roommate’s behalf, “Seriously?” “She’s dropping back into town for a job interview and called on me to score a dinner.” Sam continued, fishing around the fridge for his breakfast, “I’m courting her tonight at the Blue Palm.” “The Blue Palm?” Adam repeated, his demeanor shifting back to quizzical as he hunted around for the right words, “That’s—um—sort of pricey for L.C., isn’t it?” Sam, however, was in a great enough mood that the implication behind the words slid right off of him. “Nothing’s too good for Lauren Claye.” he answered, matter-of-factly. Adam nodded consent of the opinion; because it had never been the question. In Sam’s worldview, eloping to Europe wouldn’t be splurging on Lo. Adam could even give his roommate the benefit of empathy; because that was how he felt concerning Heather. The key difference between “Headam” and “Lammy,” however, couldn’t be ignored and “Headam” was actually a couple. It had been a stroke of good fortune when Heather had agreed to Adam’s invitation for dinner the evening after Fall finals week and how everything for their relationship (shy of, of course, the acceptance of her closest friends) had just fallen into place from there. Still, Lauren wasn’t Heather and L.C. didn’t go out of her way to date library-types like the two roommates admittedly were. At the end of the night, the nerd whom had gone out of his way to take L.C. to the Blue Palm would still be a nerd and his splurging on her could only backfire in his face from there. Adam shrugged off his suspicions about Lauren’s intentions with Sam as he realized that his roommate wasn’t done talking yet. “…Besides,” Sam was adding, “I just kind of figured that you and Heather were going to Farrino’s and didn’t want to crash in on that.” Adam forced a dry smile. He probably had a handful of friends who looked at his relationship with Heather and could only make “six-way” jokes that Adam smiled through and chuckled at politely. Still, he only had one friend who knew the difference; knew the truth about how Adam was treated by her friends, knew how much pressure it put Heather under, and understood that the conundrum of their relationship was to be treated seriously rather than as a welcome opportunity for jokes. “Actually,” Adam amended the issue at hand, “Heather and I are doing a solo date tonight.” “No!” Sam blurted, “You talked the head cheerleader into leaving her buddies high and dry for this one?” “She talked me into the fact that this was a long time coming.” Adam interjected, “Tonight, for the first time since she first agreed to go out with me, is going to be all about Heather and me.” Adam waited for his roommate to congratulate him on that step. Adam’s taking his girlfriend out alone was no different than Sam’s taking his fantasy girl out on Valentine’s eve. “Maybe you guys should be the ones at the Blue Palm instead.” Sam cracked in lieu of the welcome congratulations, making up for all of those “six-way” jokes that he had known better than to make. “Yeah; that’s kind of outside of my budget and Heather suggested Farrino’s.” Adam replied seriously. Still, as the joke between friends washed over him, Adam relaxed a little bit and chuckled politely at what passed for the witty banter. He was running later than Heather usually liked to forgive anyway. Adam swatted Sammy on the back for good luck, collected his backpack and a Pop-Tart, and trotted off to meet up with his girlfriend. Sam simply settled into the couch for the forty-five minutes that he still had before starting his day, picked up the remote to start his day off with trash TV, and his cell phone rang. A heart monitor would have detected a momentary flat-line. Granted how much Sam liked Lauren, he had never taken things so seriously as to program in a personalized ringtone in case she called. That only meant, of course, that every ring of the phone could potentially be her! Sam nearly knocked over the small table as he lunged toward the lunch counter, tripping clumsily over the couch arm in the process, to reach his phone. For all of his trouble, all of his clumsiness, and all of the potential disturbed furniture left in his wake, the phone had been alerting him that he had a text message that had been not from Lauren Claye but Taylor Kristenson. Sam’s interest was piqued once again. What interest could the gorgeous female half of the campus “power-couple” have to be calling him? Samuel Moore flipped open his phone and read as follows: “Hey there. Tyler cancelled on me last minute. Was wondering if you wanted to meet up with me at the Blue Palm rather than wasting a perfectly good reservation. Let me know, Sam.” Tyler had cancelled on Taylor too; and the first person she had thought of calling on to redeem her Valentine’s Day was Samuel Moore? What was going on here? First Lauren had called on Sam; then Taylor had done the same. Once again, Sam was prompted to shout adulations from the nearest available rooftop. He had just graduated from campus nerd to campus stud! Then, another thought hit him and the true reality of the situation settled over him like a waterfall. Lauren and Sammy; Taylor and Sammy; Sammy and Lauren; Sammy and Taylor. “Lammy” or “Samlor.” Both Taylor and Lauren were gorgeous, of course, but Sam had known from day one what his intentions had been with Lauren (at least in part because ever since he had first met Taylor, she had always been connected to Tyler). His newest conundrum had nothing to do with who he wanted to be out with; it was in exactly how to break it to Taylor that she was about to spend Valentine’s Day, her day, alone. IV Heather couldn’t stand the silent distance separating her and Adam. She knew what the silence meant. The longer that things were this quiet, the more potential that Adam had to be contemplating what all of their friends said about them together; fears that could only be confirmed because everyone said the things that they did to his face. The longer that Adam was concerned about what others said about them together, the more concerned he was about how Heather thought of him too. The more concerned he was about Heather’s opinion of him, the less confident he was in himself. It all forced Heather to reflect back on her previous relationship. She could say what she wanted about Travis King but he had plenty of self-confidence to spare. He didn’t have to be told every single day how in love Heather truly was with him. The center was certainly more than enamored enough with himself to make up for any differences there might have been. There were two critical differences between her boyfriend and her ex and the quiet moments forced Heather to focus on them with the precision of a laser beam. Heather knew that Adam adored her and only wanted to be loved in return; and Travis hadn’t required the twenty-four-hour maintenance of having his self-confidence boosted by a second-party. Heather clinched Adam’s hand to break the ice between them and his hand turned to jelly at her touch The effect might have once been cute and endearing; but they weren’t in middle school anymore. “Looking forward to tonight?” she asked. It had been the first words between them since leaving her apartment for the walk to class and it hadn’t even been a coherent complete sentence. “Yeah; definitely.” Adam replied, a little surprised that she had even felt the need to ask. Silence again. Heather cocked her ear like a spaniel, wanting to hear more. That was Adam Hurst; he had such a way with words. He knew what had happened and choked hard. His first Valentine’s Day with a girlfriend was not starting out well. “So, um, have you talked to the girls since…you know…the incident?” Adam asked, “I really am sorry that it had to go down like that and…” “The ‘incident’ that you’re referring to is that they were sent home rather than being allowed to continue to dominate our time together or our feelings for each other.” Heather retorted, “Adam, I was asking about tonight. Remember? You, me, Farrino’s; just…us…two?” Adam choked back the question and the potential apology from the other night that had gone along with it. Yep, this day was not off to as smooth of a start as it could have been. “I called us in last night and our reservations are for 7:00.” Adam reported, “I’ll pick you up at your place at six?” Heather blinked a couple of times, stalling in her response as if she had misunderstood something. She had asked twice now about Adam’s feelings about their date for Valentine’s Day and he had first asked about her friends and was now confirming their itinerary. “6:00 at my place.” Heather confirmed as if addressing a secretary. This was getting ridiculous. She moved from Adam’s side to directly in front of him, thereby putting an obstacle in his path, “Adam, it’s Valentine’s Day. Are you excited for tonight?” All at once, Adam realized what he had done…and then proceeded to do a second time. It was just too late to simply utter another apology, in all of his genuine sincerity, and hope that that would end the matter. “Heather,” Adam replied, reaching to brush some stray locks out of her eyes before settling his hands intimately on her shoulders, “of course I’m looking forward to tonight with you. It’s Valentine’s Day and I am going out with the hottest girl on the planet!” Granted, Heather had asked about Adam’s thoughts on dating her, not his thoughts on dating “the hottest girl on the planet,” but she decided to let the issue go. After all, in Adam’s worldview, the two were apparently synonymous. There was more that she wanted to hear out of Adam before they parted for class anyway. “You know,” Adam was continuing, brightly, “I haven’t told very many people this; but this is going to be my first Valentine’s Day in a committed relationship.” Okay, that hadn’t been what Heather had been waiting to hear; but at least the remark had gone in her favor. “Really; I never would have guessed.” She teased. The words were out of her mouth before it dawned on her what she had just said about her boyfriend. Heather grimaced a little bit. Still, Adam hadn’t seemed to mind much. The verbal fumbles were still 2-1 (as only the verbal fumbles he was readily aware of) and the pair shared a good laugh on their way to class. “Headam’s” Valentine’s Day might not have been off to the most romantic start but it had at least relaxed the pair’s nerves. That part could only serve to clear the air for later that evening when they would be at Farrino’s without the constant interruptions of Heather’s gal pals, their proud belligerence toward Adam, or the bout of nerves that it usually caused for him. V He wasn’t going to call her back. There was no way. Taylor Kristenson couldn’t even count on her own boyfriend to keep a Valentine’s Day commitment (or, at the very least, come up with a good reason to break the date). Yet, here she was, calling on some other guy to fill in the wide open, empty hole that had developed in her Valentine’s Day schedule. Granted, she had called on Samuel Moore and the likelihood of him having conclusive, steadfast plans for Valentine’s Day was…no, that wasn’t being very generous. Besides, Taylor didn’t have a conclusive plan for Valentine’s Day anymore either, leading her to call on Sammy in the first place. Her phone buzzed at her from the table nearby and she checked the screen, her hopes rekindled. [Message from: Sam Moore]: “Sorry, Taylor. I already have a date scheduled for tonight and I’m only sorry that yours fell through. Hope that something works out for you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” He had at least taken the time, energy, and consideration to type out the whole name of the holiday. It was, after all, the bright spot of Taylor’s morning. However, it had been one thing when Tyler had sent her a text at eight a.m. to randomly break their date at the last minute without providing a reasonable explanation. Now she was being stood up by the campus geek and he was inventing a plan to excuse himself? Not on her Valentine’s Day; a day specifically set aside for beautiful people in love with one another! She picked up her cell phone and began to dial with enough savage ferocity to nearly damage the mechanism. This little infraction just couldn’t be allowed to pass… VI The fact that theirs was to be a date was confirmed, he would be picking up Lauren Claye in precisely three hours and fifty eight minutes, and one, Samuel Moore, was on easy street. The fact that his Monday class had been in the morning, allowing him the afternoon to fully prepare, was only the icing on the cake. Samuel Moore didn’t have the dating experience to be in this mood, nor did he know how to handle it. He just knew that his great mood would not be deterred by anything. Then, he promptly checked his phone and realized that he had missed several calls, one of which had a message from Taylor Kristenson. Here, Sam’s unmistakable bout of nerves about his date that evening reached fruition. In all of his excitement about his upcoming date, he could have sworn that he had still had the common decency to message Taylor back that it wouldn’t work out for them. In fact, he distinctly remembered having typed the message. Sending it, however, was generally so second-nature that it might have been easily overlooked. Aw, crap… “You jackass!” declared Taylor Kristenson’s voice, “It wasn’t enough that Tyler cancelled our Valentine’s Day plans without providing a good reason? A little fledgling geek like you has to go and turn me down on Valentine’s Day too? You know what, forget I even asked. I know when I’m being told off; because no one in her right mind with anything at all going for her would be out with you! Happy V-Day, asshole!” Well, he’d remembered to send the initial message back and, granted that the voicemail had come from Taylor, his date with Lauren was still safe. Still, from the general tone of the message, it was clear that Taylor deserved to have her stories set straight. Sam dialed the phone, hoping that Taylor would pick up so that he could explain that he did in fact have a date with the Lauren Claye. VII Adam was expected at 6:00 on the nose for a 7:00 reservation. Sure enough, the wayward Pontiac showed up in Heather’s driveway at 5:57 like clockwork. At 5:58, Heather was watching from her bedroom window as a frenzied Adam Hurst tripped over his own two feet while still in the process of climbing out of the vehicle. 5:58 and 15 seconds: Adam was collecting himself off of the ground and his lips were forming words at his own clumsiness that would have made Howard Stern blush in shame. It had been as if he had known he was being watched throughout the whole sorry performance of even trying to exit the vehicle and was one more reminder for Heather what made him so endearing. And at promptly 5:59, a timid knock rattled on the door and there stood a slightly more frenzied Adam Hurst with a single red rose in hand and a slight limp to walk off. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He winced, handing the rose to its recipient and favoring his left shin. The question lining his face couldn’t be mistaken: had Heather actually witnessed his disgraceful lack of ability to properly exit his own vehicle on his own two feet? Had she heard roughly 9/10 of what had come out of his mouth after having taken the spill? The smile on Heather’s face and the accompanying giggle of sympathy answered all of Adam’s qualms as he escorted the girl to his car, the ice between them earlier officially broken. VIII He had to have been insane to think that a late night phone call had meant anything for either of them. She wouldn’t even remember the fact that she had specifically wanted to be out in public with him. Tyler, Adam, and everyone else who was honest with Sam about his chances at dating Lauren Claye had been right. Things just didn’t work out between girls like her and guys like him. The fact that she had even called him last night had been a drunken fluke and should have been overlooked as such. Yeah; even L.C. would have sobered up since then and last night’s conversation would have never happened. So the question remained in Sam’s mind why he had even gone out of his way to drive out to where Lauren had promised to meet him; or why he had ever turned Taylor down that morning. Sammy started to put the car into reverse to manfully trudge back home in defeat when the door to the nearby office building where Lauren had sworn to have had an interview banged open and one, Lauren Claye, emerged from the building and practically threw herself at the waiting automobile, clamoring to be let in. Then and only then did Sam realize that, in all of his excitement, he had neglected to unlock the car doors. He was grinning like an idiot. Everyone else’s opinion on the matter be damned, this was really happening! Finally, the two youths coordinated their intentions and the first of many potentially awkward moments was resolved. Lauren released the handle so that Sammy could unlock the door for her and then she got in the car. By the time she had entered the vehicle, she was beaming from ear to ear. However, Sam couldn’t decide if that had to do with how the interview had gone or if…no, she would never be this excited about going out with Samuel Moore. Enough of their peers in Sam’s life had told him themselves to not waste his time shooting for the fence by thinking about Lauren Claye. “The interview went well.” Lauren was saying. At the sound of her voice, Sam snapped back from a trance-like condition of self-doubt that he had never known he was in. It had been the first time that he had realized that the ride had otherwise been passing in silence. “That’s great, Lauren!” he applauded, “It sounds like we’ll have a lot to celebrate tonight.” Lauren managed to steal a glance at the reservation ticket situated in the seat pocket between them before the driver could properly conceal it and she grimaced a little bit. “Yeah; it was a really promising interview, not a definite job possibility yet.” She announced, revealing a humility that she didn’t usually express along with an upward slant of her eyebrows, “The Blue Palm? Really, Sammy? Over a potential job opportunity?” The suspicions were confirmed. Sam’s none-too-secret crush finally wanted to be seen in public with him (on Valentine’s Day eve, no less) and she was the one girl in the world whom had neglected the fact that it was Valentine’s Day. As Sam continued down the road, he caught a reflection in the backseat of a single rose and a box of chocolates. She’d remember or she’d be hopelessly confused by the end of the night. “Nothing’s too good for you, Lauren.” Sam replied, patting the reservation ticket to pull it away from prying eyes; then, since she hadn’t remembered that it was Valentine’s Day anyway: “There might be one other person joining us tonight.” “Awesome!” Lauren gushed. Sam could have been mistaken but the initial translation was that if Taylor was with them, Lauren wouldn’t have to feel as bad about being distracted from her official “date.” IX The lights were dimmed lower than usual in the bistro/pub. The music as well was softer and slower than normal. A few tables even had an aptly placed candle situated on them. The management at Farrino’s was really trying to maintain the proper mood and one, Adam Hurst, could only empathize with their efforts. He was fidgeting through his salad while the gorgeous blonde across from him watched, timidly. Finally, Heather had seen enough and set aside her glass of wine. “Adam,” she murmured, “will you relax, hon? We’re finally out on a solo date together.” Adam set aside his salad fork and accepted Heather’s outstretched palms. “I know, Heather; I’m sorry.” Adam answered, “It’s just that…well, you know as well as I do that we don’t get the chance to be out like this often and...” “We’re out together now.” Heather interjected, though with a firm sense of understanding where Adam was coming from, “Just you and me; no distractions; no unsolicited speculations about my dating life; no Ma…” “Heather!” a voice called out from across the restaurant. The voice was all too familiar to “Headam” and the couple’s romantic connection for that moment had been severed. Adam glanced up in the voice’s general direction, then nodded over Heather’s shoulder so that she’d turn around. After all, neither of them had heard Maria, accompanied by her date for the evening and the remainder of their clique, yell for Adam. Heather rolled her eyes for only Adam to see, then cued up her “party-girl” face that felt more like a strategically placed mask than anything, and turned in her seat with some semblance of an idea who she was going to find. “Maria and Travis!” she declared. Granted, the pair had shown up with Heather’s regular entourage and Travis’s harem-in-waiting in tow but it was Travis being dangled in Heather’s face by the speaker’s guiding hand. Then, as if the message wasn’t clear enough, Maria ignored the forthcoming embrace of greeting from her friend and snaked a bare arm seductively around Travis’s shoulders to drive the point home. “We’re getting to the point where we really prefer ‘Maravis’.” Maria announced. “She means ‘Taravis’.” Travis supplied; then, unnecessarily: “I don’t do second-billing.” “Oh; I understand completely.” The second half of “Headam” supplied, gamely, “Anyway, this is a pretty popular place tonight, huh?” “Anyone who’s anyone in this town celebrates Valentine’s Day here.” The female portion of “Maravis” or “Taravis” or whoever replied, complete with the obligatory jut of disdain from her lower lip, “I guess you’re pretty lucky to have stumbled into a relationship with this girl, huh, Adam? Well, we’d better find our seats. You remember how slow service can be around here on Valentine’s Day eve, right, Heather? Toodles.” Maria sashayed away, arm in arm with the campus stud. As the latest couple strode away, the other girls followed suit, giggling and whispering over some form of gossip. Thus, left Heather, Adam, a couple of half-eaten salads, and some barely sipped drinks that weren’t aging well in the uncomfortable silence that remained of the ambience of their date. “I cannot believe that that just happened.” Heather finally seethed, “And on Valentine’s Day no less.” “You had to run into them together some time.” Adam pointed out. “I meant Maria and the rest of them crashing in on our time together to dangle my ex-boyfriend in my face like that.” Heather amended. “Yeah; because trying to disrupt our relationship is just so uncharacteristic of any of your friends.” Adam interjected, any semblance of the timidity that had been one of his more endearing qualities completely gone, “Seriously, though; Tether or…?” “Don’t start.” Heather chastised him, swatting at him playfully as if she were being tongue-in-cheek, “Travis blew his chance, thank God, and tonight, as the girls were made well aware, was supposed to be about you and me.” Heather had spoken her peace on the issue at hand; at least, for the moment. There was still something that she was waiting to hear from Adam and had been waiting to hear from him longer than she cared to calculate. Here, Adam leaned back as if having read her thoughts and opened his mouth as if preparing to say what she had been waiting for. “Seriously though; what was it?” Adam wheedled, choking back on more of his own drink, “Because ‘Tether’ is all that I can really come up with.” Again, that had not been what Heather had been waiting to hear from her date. “It was ‘Traver,’ actually.” Heather pointed out, sipping on her wine in case that extra sip would help her share her boyfriend’s sense of humor over this whole sorry situation; then, as if trying to explain how she had been shortchanged to just two letters: “Travis doesn’t handle second-billing very well.” “I’ve heard.” Adam replied. Silence ensued, shattered only by the scraping of the couple’s forks into their salads. The music that was supposed to set a romantic mood was really just a distracting background noise. The conversations of everyone else in the restaurant, couples entitled to enjoy one another’s company, didn’t add much to the ambience at “Headam’s” table either. “Well,” Heather announced, “this is fun.” The implication behind her words could not be mistaken; and Adam couldn’t blame this disastrous mistake on anyone but himself. He knew that things for Travis and Heather (or “Tether” or whatever it was she had said) had not ended well. Besides, it hadn’t been as though Heather had asked Maria to not only hook up with Travis but to dangle him in her face like that. So Adam really had no excuse as to why he had just baited his own girlfriend about her past boyfriends; relationships that he knew had ended badly, and during their time together on Valentine’s Day no less. “Heather, I—“ Adam began. “If you say ‘…’m sorry,’ I will gut you with this salad fork!” Heather seethed, “You have absolutely nothing to keep apologizing to me for, damn it!” Clearly, she wasn’t waiting to hear another apology from Adam in all of his sincerity for the fact that her friends didn’t want them to be together. Of course, if one of her friends apologized for making her life with Adam so miserable, she’d be glad to hear and accept it but she wasn’t holding her breath waiting for that to happen. What she was waiting to hear meant so much more. The fact that he was still the campus brain and she was still the cheerleader notwithstanding, there was one little sentence that she was waiting to hear from Adam. “Heather, I—“ he began again. There came the sound of breaking glass and a loud, beleaguered whine of “why me???” shattered what remained of the romantic ambience in the restaurant. Most couples whipped their heads around at the source of the commotion. Adam and Heather didn’t even need to look. Relatively six years of friendship later, Heather could recognize the trademark whine in a crowded concert hall. Adam had only needed to know the other girl for two months. “I think Lindsey wants you, Heather.” Adam murmured, dejectedly. Heather rolled her eyes, as ready as ever to pack up her belongings, walk out the restaurant door, and out of Adam Hurst’s life. It was bad enough that her “friends” kept trying to come between her and Adam; but, in all honesty, what was the most pathetic is that they didn’t need to try. Adam, for reasons that were still inexplicable, was trying to avoid having to state three lousy words! Another whine erupted from across the restaurant, prompting Heather to whirl around in her seat, by now sufficiently pissed off at the world in general and at her friends and Adam in particular. Then she saw her. Lindsey was sitting at a table alone, moaning in her cups. Maria was off with Travis; everyone knew that. But Jenny and Ashlynn weren’t hovering around to clean up the mess? Heather turned back to Adam, her eyes pleading forgiveness for having misjudged him and apology not only for the mistake but for the interruption. It was evident that Adam hadn’t encouraged a distraction but what needed to be done for a friend needed to be done. “Five minutes?” she asked, squeezing Adam’s hands apologetically. There had been much more that Adam had meant to say to her. Still, he knew Heather well and one of her most endearing qualities had to do with her care and concern for others. “Go.” Adam answered, squeezing her hands back, “You know where you’re needed.” With that, Heather excused herself from the table with a kiss of gratitude on the cheek for Adam and advanced on Lindsey as a loyal friend. And within moments, before Heather was even completely out the door, Ashlynn swooped in on the couple’s table like a vulture in too much eye-liner and manicured talons waiting to catch its prey unawares. Adam, for his part, was completely caught off guard. It was anyone’s guess what Ashlynn had wanted, but she had obviously welcomed the distraction. X Sam had known and adored Lauren for three years and still didn’t know the first thing that she wanted out of a dating scenario. What their first “dating scenario” had proven beyond reasonable doubt was that she welcomed the distraction from him that Taylor had provided. Though he would never say so out loud, Sam had consented to Taylor’s coming along out of a sense of sympathy. After all, whose significant other cancels plans for Valentine’s Day Eve by text message the morning of without a logical explanation? Besides, Sam had kind of owed it to her after all of the times that he had been invited along as the odd-man-out. Still, the longer that Lauren was distracted from the date at hand by Taylor, the more that who Sam really sympathized with was Tyler after so many times that Sam had provided the distraction. Carrying on a relationship was tough when there were an odd number of people hanging around. “Do either of you want me to signal the waiter for refills or anything?” Sam asked from his seat, feeling more like a secretary than a date. And all because Taylor Kristenson had invited herself along. No; Taylor was fine. It had, after all, been Tyler whom had screwed her out of the original date on such short notice. Anyway, in reference to the subject at hand… “I’m good without; thanks, Sammy.” Taylor replied, complete with a smile that had launched several hundred deadly heartbreaks once it was figured out that Taylor was unavailable for dating. “Another water; lemon.” Lauren ordered as if a). Sammy was actually the waiter and b). he had just interrupted some important piece of gossip between the two girls. If her tone hadn’t said enough, then her face had cast that frown of impatience at Sammy that had responded to several hundred faux pas made since they’d met. “Water with lemon; I’m on it, Lo.” Sammy replied, signaling for the waiter and hoping that he didn’t catch him at a busy time. His “date” with Lauren (and, of course, Taylor, who knew what Lauren meant to him but needed to have her precious February 14 resalvaged) was already going badly enough without the girl being made to wait for too long on her drink order. In these regards, Taylor returned to her go-to ear for the evening. “Lo,” she hissed at her, kicking her under the table for emphasis, “you do realize that Sammy’s not personally responsible for refilling your drink for you?” “Well, he’s the one who interrupted our conversation to ask!” Lauren hissed back, defiance and annoyance evident in her eyes. “Another water, extra lemon, please.” Sammy requested of the waiter, his face turning redder with each passing word. “Anything else for you, sir?” the waiter asked, pleasantly. If this starts going much worse, a shot in the head eventually. “No thanks.” Sammy reassured him, sending the waiter on his diligent way after... “My water?” Lauren asked, narrowing her lashes in impatience. “It’s coming, L.C.” Sammy answered. Taylor could only smile sympathetically. Sammy, the guy who had gone out of his way to invite her along, needed some serious help and it was officially up to the female half of the campus power couple to help him out or at least provide an escape route of some kind. XI Adam’s eyes scanned the restaurant for some serious help or an escape route of some sort. Still, by that time, Heather had coaxed Lindsey out of her booth and restaurant to hear out her latest string of woes from the parking lot where she wouldn’t disturb the other patrons any longer. Furthermore, Maria was busying herself with Travis and Jenny would never bother Adam with a single straying thought. Therefore, his main escape route had just bailed on the scene when it was made clear that her friend needed her most. Thus left a table for two, a couple of salads that were getting soggy, the drinks that weren’t exactly flavoring with age, Adam, and… “Ashlynn,” he hissed at the girl, lest he draw too much attention to the fact too early, “what the hell are you doing?” “I saw an empty seat on Valentine’s Day; and that is so not right, you know?” Ashlynn replied with an elaborate shrug of her bare shoulders, “By the way, I was thinking; how does ‘Adamlyn’ sound to you instead?” The meaning was clear but poor Adam was more hopelessly confused than ever. This was the same girl (well, one out of the usual four) who spent her waking hours composing new, if unoriginal, insults for Adam. Then, a new meaning hit him. Clearly, the bleached snake liked Adam just fine; she hated “Headam.” Still, Adam was still trying to wrap his brain around the concept of a second cheerleader not only falling for him but trying to pry him away from a friend. Therefore, he voiced the more minor of two concerns on the subject at hand. “Adam Lynn?” he repeated to her, hoping that she’d take the hint and take a hike right back to her friends. Ashlynn apparently heard the problem upon say-back. What she didn’t compute was the immediate answer that Adam had had in mind. “’Ashdam’ then… well, whatever; we’ll work it out.” Ashlynn replied, revealing her bare shoulders once again with another exaggerated shrug of indifference. “Ash’, I don’t think…” Adam began. The door opened, inviting Lindsey and Heather in from the cold where Ashlynn could see them coming but Heather didn’t have a clear vantage point on the table yet. Lindsey hadn’t taken nearly enough of Heather’s time. It was time for the simple and direct approach. “Have you technically told Heather that you love her yet?” Ashlynn asked, another smile of satisfaction lining her face. Clearly, she knew the answer to that; and, in her delusional imagination, it still made Adam fair game. “I was just about to,” Adam replied, the reality of the situation dawning on him as the pieces fell together, “when Lindsey made her little outburst that dragged Heather away.” “What a funny coincidence, huh?” Ashlynn asked, swatting Adam seductively on a shoulder. “Not funny and no coincidence, either.” Adam replied, swiping her hand away sternly and beginning to back away from the table, “Ash’, seriously; I love Heather and, regardless of the months of Hell that her friends have been putting us through, I already know that she loves me. It just works!” Ashlynn seemed pensive for a moment. It was time to formulate a new plan. “Have you ever wondered,” she asked, leaning across the table for confidentiality and intimacy, “how Maria and Travis got together so suddenly after ‘Traver’s’ big split?” “If I had spared it any curiosity, then I think that I’m beginning to get an inkling of how that worked.” Adam answered, “For the last time, Ash’, I’m serious…” Ashlynn knew where the conversation was going and began to push her chair back to dismiss herself from the table around the same time that Lindsey was returning to her lone booth (lo and behold, without the hint of a tear in her eye). “Thanks for hearing me out anyway, Adam.” Ashlynn dismissed herself, “Really, very much appreciated.” Then, before another word could be passed on the matter, she leaned across the table (right in front of Heather) and ambushed Adam’s face. Simple and direct. “He’s all yours.” She announced to her friend once she came up for air and flounced away, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Ashlynn was gone from the scene, Heather took her seat back, and Adam wanted to crawl under a rock. He hadn’t technically done anything wrong; and he still felt personally responsible for everything that had happened. After all, as Ashlynn had just pointed out, three simple words that Heather had been waiting for could have nipped this whole mess in the bud. “Heather, I-“ he began. “Sorry for interrupting.” Heather said to him, narrowing her eyes, “Did I miss something important?” “Not entirely, no.” Adam answered, “Ashlynn was just…” “I saw that part.” Heather interjected, ready as ever to collect her jacket, leave Adam with the forthcoming bill, and walk out of his life. It was too late to simply explain that what Heather had just witnessed had been staged in hopes that that would be the end of the matter; and too late to play along with the illusion of infidelity and apologize for the elicit act (particularly, considering that a similar, actual illicit act had been the final severing blow to “Traver’s” relational ties). There were only four words that were going to stop Heather from disappearing from Adam Hurst’s life forever. There came a time when being “crazy about her” wasn’t enough and he was slowly learning that that time had long gone. “I love you, Heather; I have since I met you,” Adam announced to her, squeezing her by the hands, “and nothing that anyone else says or does is going to change that.” XII “I just love that the two of us are just hanging out like this again.” Lauren chirped at her old pal, the two girls trading gossip over sips of wine, “That’s just so awesome, right?” “Three of us.” Sammy mumbled over his Oberon. “Beg pardon?” Lauren asked, snapping her head around as if shocked to discover a third party sharing their table. “Yes, it is.” Sammy amended, swallowing back the exaggerated sip of the drink. Taylor had heard Sammy the first time and grimaced. As the third-wheel, she knew that she was distracting Lauren from the issue at hand and part of her really wanted to help Sammy out. Still, she also knew for herself what people said about Sammy’s chances with a girl like Lauren Claye and, without putting too fine a point on the matter, everyone was right! Lauren and Sammy, Sammy and Lauren, “Lammy.” Try as the poor boy might, the fates did not go around handing out favors like that! And if Sammy wouldn’t listen to reason, pack up what was left of his dignity, and move on, perhaps he needed the truth of the matter to come along and smack him in the back of the head. All at once, Taylor snapped to full attention and Lauren followed suit. Sammy, facing the wrong way, didn’t quite know what had gotten their attention… A smack in the back of the head that nearly plunged Sammy face first into his food caused him to whip around at full attention to face none other than Tyler Kerris, grinning down upon the table with a clinched smile. “Tyler!” Taylor squeaked, “I thought that you were busy tonight!” “Check your phone, baby.” Tyler answered through all thirty two teeth. Taylor fished through her purse for her phone to discover the message that she had missed over an hour and a half before <6:15; Message from: Tyler Kerris> “Don’t you go making any new plans for tonight yet, baby! I got out of work early! Need to get cleaned up and such for tonight. Pick you up at 7:30ish? Let me know.” “You were working today.” Taylor mumbled, chuckling a bit to herself over the misunderstanding as she closed her phone shut. “Had to pull in a few extra bucks,” Tyler replied, inviting himself into the empty seat, “you know how it goes, girl.” “Awesome!” Lauren gushed, “So it’s me, you, Taylor, and…uh…” Tyler guffawed. Taylor kicked the late arrival under the table and glared daggers at Lauren. Sammy inaudibly mouthed “Sam” under his breath to help her along. All was silent for a few more moments, save the scratching of silverware until the scrape of Lauren’s chair. “I left something in my car, Sam.” She announced, “Help me look for it?” Sammy’s eyes could only go wide in confusion. He became even more confused as Tyler had decided that the request had been of him and pushed back his own chair to escort Lauren back out to the restaurant parking lot. In both of their absences, it was Taylor’s turn to set Sammy’s head on straight. “You, my friend,” she speculated, “need some serious help.” “That was a little weird, wasn’t it?” Sammy asked, glancing off in the general direction of the door. “No, Sam; it wasn’t.” Taylor answered, “Lauren and I are girls; we forget things. You could have at least volunteered to go help her search her car for…” “Taylor,” Sam pointed out, “I distinctly remember driving out here. L.C. doesn’t have her car; or rather, she does, but it’s back where her interview was. All that she had with her tonight was her jacket and her purse; and she had both of those.” “You don’t think…?” Taylor began, her eyes wide with concern, “Lauren and T-Tyler?” “Tyler wouldn’t do that to you,” Sammy reassured her, “right?” “Well, they tried something once before; but that was before he met me.” Taylor replied, “Yeah; he wouldn’t.” “Right,” Sammy replied, “and Lauren wouldn’t do something like that to me either.” Silence. “Right?” he prompted. “Sammy,” Taylor sighed, “there are a lot of things about Lauren that you’ve been too blind to understand. I saw the way that she was treating you tonight and…” “Really; because I missed that part completely.” Sam interjected. “Sam,” Taylor declared, “Lauren never viewed you as suitable dating material and people like Lauren Claye never will until you go through a serious personality overhaul!” “I’m starting to get that.” Sam replied, “but, answer this. Why would she want me to take her out tonight? She called on me.” “Because all that she remembered about February 14 was that she had a job interview and she wanted to be treated to the most expensive, glamorous place in town.” Taylor explained. “So she called on the guy who could not only afford it,” Sammy sighed, discarding his dinner napkin on the table, “but would go out of his way to blow that kind of money on her. I’m her meal-ticket.” It was really starting to pain Taylor to have to do so; but she nodded. Sam understood. XIII With sufficient prodding from the management to guide their way, Heather and Adam exited Farrino’s as one of the last couples to do so. It was finally clear that Adam felt for Heather what she felt for him; because he had the guts to say so. Therefore, the second half of the date had been salvaged from a complete loss. Still, a new set of issues had been placed out on the table that needed to be addressed. Adam turned his car’s engine over and the vehicle pulled out of the parking lot before he flipped off the radio to announce that he had something to say. “I know that you saw and heard some things tonight that might have distracted you from the romantic ambience of the evening a little bit.” He began. Heather’s next words were meant for Adam but she addressed the windshield. “Yeah; not the least of which being ‘Taravis’ being paraded in front of us like that.” Heather answered, “Not to mention, of course…” “My using that as a jumping off point to badger you about ‘Traver,’ knowing how that ended up.” Adam added, “That was a reckless mistake. Just to be clear though, Heather, it’s not that I’m jealous of your exes or anything; I really don’t like that guy, though.” “Just so we’re both clear,” Heather answered half to the windshield and half to Adam, “the distaste is mutual.” That part was out on the table. Still, they were only maybe a few more blocks down the road before: “Heather, tonight, back there with Ashlynn, …” Adam began. This time, Heather rotated her head around to face the driver. “…was nothing that I haven’t seen before and nothing that you should feel the need to bring up ever again.” Heather announced. Then, with all of that out in the open anyway, she sighed before continuing. “Look, Maria threw herself at Travis while we were together; that’s how they ended up as they are now. The difference being that Travis was kind of into it and, therefore, was more than willing to go along with it. Besides, tonight did sort of put you in the mood to actually say a thing or two I’d been waiting to hear from you.” “Yeah.” Adam replied, “So, in a twisted sort of way, maybe we owe the girls some thanks.” “They won’t hear that ‘thank you’ from me any time soon.” Heather quipped, “Adam, it’s nights like tonight that really go to show what friendships mean to people. Personally, I’ve never felt this enlightened.” “You mean about us?” Adam asked, “Listen; you knew long before I said so what you meant to me. My actions must have revealed something to you and I—“ Heather held up a hand for silence and shook her head, a smirk cascading her face. She wasn’t talking about her and Adam. “We’ve been just fine ever since we got together,” Heather reassured him, “and, tonight, my friends’ actions revealed plenty about them.” Adam nodded, back to the silence of the situation. Two months into dating Heather, he had finally discovered the words that she had been waiting to hear for several weeks. He did love her, he had since he had first met her and certainly since they had first become a couple, and he finally told her so. Heather, in turn, no longer had to tell Adam how much he meant to her. The fact that she had just gotten done giving him the benefit of the doubt when things did actually look pretty bad for him and Ashlynn spoke volumes. Besides, it had been clear that night that it had been pretty tough for Heather to learn that her friends could be so awful as what she had witnessed. The events of the evening just added up to the fact that, with Valentine’s Day Eve in the trenches, “Headam” was still going strong. Heather’s relations with her friends, however, had been severed and would take quite a while to repair. XIV Lauren and Tyler exited the restaurant for the parking lot in silence. Seeing Sammy out with two girls that had been his own during different periods of his life, Tyler would have been more than ready to wring the little geek’s neck. The fact that it was Valentine’s Day eve hadn’t exactly made matters any better. Someone owed Tyler an explanation as to what he had just seen and it had been up to Lauren to make their excuses and get Tyler out of the restaurant. “…Ty, I really think you’ve got this all wrong.” Lauren was saying to him from the privacy of the parking lot, “If you would just listen to...” “That little spaz was with my girlfriend, Lo!” Tyler replied. Clearly, Lauren wasn’t amending the situation as well as she’d hoped. It was time to stop talking to the rich guy from the perspective of his friend; and start talking to her ex from the likeminded perspective. “You’re the one who cancelled on Taylor on Valentine’s Day by text message without telling her why!” Lauren seethed, “And I didn’t tell Sammy to invite her along.” “Whoa, whoa.” Tyler interjected, shaking his head and chuckling, the drama of the evening forgotten in his point of view, “I’ve got to wrap my mind around this picture. It’s Valentine’s Day, you’re at dinner with Sammy Moore; and you considered it a date?” “I would have liked to.” Lauren replied, shrugging, “It is Valentine’s Day. But then Taylor strolled along and…” “You like Sam?” Tyler interjected again, his smirk deepening. “Run that by me one more time, Ty?” Lauren replied, acidly. “Lo, I was with you guys for close to five minutes and you never even looked at the little freak!” Tyler howled, practically on the cement laughing at the fact that Lauren could ever go out of her way to be enamored by Sam Moore. “Well, it was the least I could have done to be polite to Taylor.” Lauren pouted, “Neither of us asked someone to blow her off on Valentine’s Day.” “Erroneous.” Tyler interjected, “I never thought that I’d see the day that you’d fall all over yourself over a geek, L.C.” “Well, I tried dating the debonair rich bastard but the relationship fell flat on its face.” Lauren pointed out, “I had kind of hoped that things would work out better for Taylor.” Tyler considered the meaning behind her words from what he could understand and realized that there was nothing left for him at the Blue Palm anymore. He gathered up what remained of his dignity and prepared to walk away. “Last piece of friendly dating advice, kid,” Tyler informed her, “Next time you’re out on a date with some four-eyed loser, if you’re going to try being polite to someone, you could try being polite to the geek who took you out in the first place.” “I might be the one who’s out with a book-geek,” she announced, smirking where she sat, “but Tyler Kerris just had a sincere concern about someone besides himself.” With that, Lauren realized that there was nothing left to say to Tyler. She got up from her place on the sidewalk, dusted herself off, checked her reflection in the restaurant windows, and turned to go back into the restaurant and finish off her date right. Tyler, in turn, watched as his ex walked away and delivered one final parting shot on the issue at hand before leaving. “I’ll say one thing that the guy’s got going for him,” came the opinion, “he’s loaded. Too bad he’s so damn pathetic as to splurge on everyone besides himself.” Lauren had been reaching for the door but froze. At the last moment, she whirled around. She had only wanted to explain the misunderstanding of seeing Sam with two girls whom had once been claimed as Tyler’s. If Tyler Kerris refused to listen to reason, that was his problem. “I see your point and I’ll raise you that the best thing that Samuel Moore has got going for him,” she announced, “is that he’s not Tyler Kerris.” Lauren had spoken her peace. She pried open the restaurant door, disappeared inside, and left her ex in the middle of the lot looking every bit the jerk that he was truly viewed as. Tyler, alone in the parking lot, watched his ex’s receding back for a moment, then turned around to head back to his vehicle and head home, defeated. Only a ring box rested on the ground where he had once stood; a ring box that, had Lauren been facing the right direction, would have been reflected in the window. Lauren had a new vantage point on the table; and discovered Sammy and Taylor practically hand-in-hand. It was enough to give her pause and to raise her awareness of some of what Tyler had said upon seeing Sammy and Taylor together. When Lauren had been inside with them, it had all seemed pretty innocent to her. Now that she had left “for her vehicle,” it didn’t seem so innocent anymore in her absence. Lauren fluffed up her dress, fixed her hair again, and took her seat across from Sam. “Sorry about that, everyone.” She announced. “It’s fine, Lo; no worries.” Sammy replied, scraping his chair back, “I’ll get us a couple of boxes, pay up the tab, and we can be on our way. Congratulations again on the potential job opportunity. Taylor, always a pleasure.” “Thanks for bringing us out here tonight, Sam.” Taylor replied, smiling her appreciation and beginning to pack up her purse. “Tay—“ Sam began. “Hey, Taylor,” Lauren piped up as if Sammy had never been there and certainly never started to speak; then, the last words that anyone had expected to hear from her: “Could you give us a minute?” “Take all of the time that you need, Lo.” Taylor replied, “It’s getting late enough that I should be heading back anyway; give you guys at least part of your own Valentine’s Day back.” It was half-expected for Sam to contend that there was nothing to worry about; that Taylor was always welcome any old time. First of all, he still sort of owed it to her from all of the times that Sam had been graciously invited along with the power couple. Secondly, to let anyone believe that they were guilty of something was completely uncharacteristic of Sam. Still, he had nothing left to say to her. Taylor gathered her jacket and collected her purse. “Always a pleasure; both of you.” She announced, making her escape out the door. Sam watched her leave; and in that moment, his brain caught up with his mouth. In all of his excitement over Valentine’s Day, and all of his self-pity over what had resulted, he hadn’t considered Taylor’s feelings over having to leave with the impression that she had ruined everything. “Do you think that she’ll…” he began. “You can clear things up with her tomorrow if you still feel the need.” Lauren interjected, “Sammy, I think we really need to talk about at least some of what happened.” “Being out here didn’t measure up to the low expectations that you had about me?” Sam asked, his tone revealing more venom than he had meant to express. He took a couple of deep breaths, calmed his nerves back, and proceeded from where he had left off: “Listen, Lauren, I’m sorry that tonight didn’t go like you’d wanted but at least you got to see our old friend, Taylor.” “If I had looked forward to being out with Taylor,” Lauren replied, “I would have called Taylor. Sam, there’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now and…” “No need to explain anything.” Sam interjected, “You don’t like me the way that I like you; you needed a meal-ticket and an ear to express your excitement to over a job opportunity. Taylor explained it to me and I understand that now; you’re welcome, by the way. “L.C., sometimes guys like me deserve at least one chance to reveal to girls like you what they really mean to us. Anyway, we’ll take the rest of this to go and I’ll get you home to celebrate with your friends if you want. There’s nothing really left for us here.” All was silent at that table for a moment. The beautiful girl had gotten a successful job interview and a good meal out of the day and the campus bookworm had spoken his peace. Come tomorrow, Lauren would be on the next bus to easy street; Sam would be forced to do the walk-of-shame amongst his peers; any number of whom had warned him a million times a day that his chances at dating Lauren Claye were zilch. Lauren fluttered her beautiful lashes open and shut around her eyes several times, averting her gaze from Sam. “Done yet?” she finally asked to shatter the silence. “Yeah,” Sam replied, “three years of friendship, and one disaster later, I think that that’s all that I have left to say.” “Good.” Lauren replied, crumpling up her napkin and setting it back on the table, “Because this little ‘bookworm’ needs to have his brain straightened out.” The next thing that poor Sammy knew, his lips were intertwined with Lauren’s in a lip-lock of passion that nearly knocked the poor boy out of his seat. “What was that you were just saying?” Lauren asked once the couple had come up for air, “Something about Taylor going out of her way to explain to you how I felt about you?” “Uhh…I don’t remember.” Sammy answered, dreamily. Either this Valentine’s Day eve had just taken a turn for the very best for Sammy or there was an alarm clock scheduled to go off. XV Taylor felt like a complete fool. It had been more than just a misunderstanding when Tyler had cancelled on her last minute; because of something as innocent as his work hours. It was more because of what those extra work hours had been used to purchase and the fact that she had kind of chased Tyler away from the restaurant, leaving only a black silk box in his wake. All of his trouble of the extra work hours and the time and consideration it had taken him to find the ring; and Taylor had spent her Valentine’s eve dinner with Samuel Moore! In the process, she had also sort of messed up Sam’s date but that took a lower seat of importance. At that moment, the female half of the campus couple was driving one handed and autodialing her cellphone over and over again. She would explain the mistake to him; explain that she had been wrong to misunderstand. He would tell her where he was at that moment. They’d meet up, speak face-to-face about their future, and everything would be happily ever after. Taylor spotted Tyler’s car near a wooded area. She parked her own car suddenly and got out to investigate the prospects… The bluff jutted out a good distance above the beach. Lying in the sand to enjoy the ocean breeze that said beach had to offer and analyzing the prospects of the stars were Heather and Adam. Adam gazed out into infinity, supporting his head on his palms while Heather rested her head contentedly against his elbow. Neither of them had said a word since walking down to the beach for some stargazing, their prime excuse to not end the evening too soon. Neither of them had anything more to say to one another about what had happened back at the restaurant. About Adam’s badgering Heather about Travis in a moment fueled by the inappropriate mix of drunkenness and jealousy. About the fact that Maria had dangled Travis in Heather’s face. About Ashlynn’s attempt to split-up the couple and keep Adam for herself. About Travis, Maria, Ashlynn, or anyone else that had nothing to do with “Headam.” “Travis and I never did anything like this.” Heather observed. Neither member of the couple had anything to say about dinner, about Maria, or about any of Heather’s other girl friends. All of Adam’s analyzing of the prospects of the vast limitless sky, somewhat comparable to their relationship, came crashing back down to Earth. “Dinner set my wallet back a little bit, Heather.” Adam admitted, “Otherwise...” “Adam.” Heather interjected. “Yes’m?” Adam answered, turning his head to face his date; and catching that laughing glint in her deep green eyes at the same moment that the moonlight caught it just right. “I said,” Heather repeated, chuckling harmoniously, “I love it out here; just you, me, nature. No worries; no concerns. You know, Travis and I…” “Yeah; I heard everything from ‘…Travis and I…’” Adam interjected, grimacing. There had been a time not too long ago when Heather would have wanted to hear more. That night, she didn’t see the need anymore. If Adam spent so much energy apologizing for the fact that her friends were so obnoxious, something that they wouldn’t even apologize for, he was certainly apologetic over his own misunderstanding. Besides, the words that she had been waiting to hear from him for weeks had been said and his affection for her had never rung truer than at that moment, just cuddling beneath the night sky. Adam merely gazed back up at the sky. In all of that silence, Heather didn’t even need to face the sky again. As the ocean breeze of a California mid-February eve swept over her, she was content just burrowing closer to Adam in all of their intimacy as the little protection that he provided against the breeze. That moment, the intimacy that they shared, was perfect and the world couldn’t tell them otherwise. “You know,” Adam piped up, “you’ll have to face your friends again tomorrow.” “Adam,” Heather murmured, burying her head further into his elbow for extra comfort, “Tomorrow can certainly fend for itself.” With those famous last words, Heather drifted off as near to Adam as she could possibly get. Adam, in turn, stretched out beneath the night sky and closed his own eyes, his mind at ease. XVI Sammy pulled back up to where Lauren’s vehicle was still parked; and noticed that their perfect evening had ended with the analysis of a parking ticket in her vehicle’s window. “Lo,” he said to her, pointing and causing the girl to lift her head. “Wha—oh my god!” Lauren chuckled, lost in a state of advanced hysterics, “My perfect Valentine’s Day just ended with a parking ticket!” “A ticket that doesn’t need to be dealt with until tomorrow.” Sam pointed out. “Hey; it won’t be Valentine’s Day anymore!” Lauren giggled; then, back to seriousness: “I had a great time tonight, Sam.” “Seriously?” Sam asked, stroking Lauren’s hair casually, “you wanted to be out with me?” “What does everyone seem to find so surprising about that?” Lauren cooed, raising her head from the driver’s shoulder. “I don’t know; it could be that when we used to go out in groups, you would usually choose to ignore me or the fact that you never answer when I call.” Sam murmured, “It could also have something to do with what everyone keeps telling me my chances with you are.” “Have you ever considered that maybe you were asking the wrong people?” Lauren asked, stroking the back of Sam’s neck, “Sam, I’ve always appreciated the fact that you loved me. It just gets kind of hard to act on it when we’re never out together alone.” Sam considered the conundrum, recognized it as the same conundrum that Adam and Heather kept complaining about, and fully realized for the first time that his affections for Lauren had been shared. It didn’t explain why she consistently ignored him when he called just for an excuse to hear her voice but that could be hashed out in the long run. “How much longer are you going to be in town?” Sam asked of his passenger. “Maybe the week; maybe less.” Lauren replied, her voice somewhat more distant than it had been as if a new realization had just set in, “Sammy, that job opening they were interviewing me for; it’s in North Carolina.” “I thought a few hours ago it was a ‘potential interview’.” Sam replied, his tone playful; until the light caught Lauren’s face, revealing a seriousness that she never registered when out with friends. “Yeah, it was more ‘potential’ whether or not I’d jump for it.” Lauren answered, “I know it’s a great future opportunity and all; but you… “You graduated, Lauren.” Sam interjected, “You need to consider what’s best for you.” Lauren considered that answer and smiled gratefully before brushing the driver innocently on the cheek and exiting the vehicle for her own, taking her rose and candy… XVII Tyler gazed out over the bluff where he now leaned precariously. He gazed out over the beachside where some happy couple or another was stargazing and frolicking about the surf. He wanted to beat the snot out of both members of that or any other “happy” couple. Tyler had picked up extra hours at a job that he didn’t even care for. Tyler had used the extra money involved to make a fairly damn important investment in his future. Tyler had shown up at the restaurant with the ring in toll. Tyler was welcomed by the sight of his girlfriend out with Samuel Frickin Moore! “Tyler!” The brooding debonair turned his head around cautiously to look. In turning his head, he caught sight of the first person that he usually wanted to see every day. In identifying Taylor Kristenson running toward him with no ring box in sight, falling off the edge of the bluff by accident was starting to sound less and less appealing to jumping off of his own accord. Taylor wasn’t sure if Tyler had heard her the first five times. Not that she could blame him if he didn’t even want to see, much less hear, her ever again. The misunderstanding as to why Tyler had cancelled on her in the first place had been based on her own idiotic conclusions. Then she had taken her stupidity a giant leap further and asked Sam out instead. She had disrupted his date with…no; this was about her and Tyler exclusively. It was her mistakes and her own misunderstanding and it could have cost her her boyfriend. Taylor skidded to a halt inches away from Tyler, having seen the ledge and not wanting to take her idiocy a huge shove further by pushing her boyfriend over. She then dug gingerly in her jacket for the satin box. “Tyler, I was an idiot!” Taylor gasped, by now sufficiently out of breath, “You cancelled on me tonight and I didn’t have the common sense to contemplate why.” “You and my ex were out with Samuel Moore.” Tyler sneered, his smug leer falling away as his face was concealed in darkness, “Some of our peers saw you two out with Samuel Moore instead of me. Do you have any fricken idea what that does to my reputation?” “You’re right, Ty; you’re absolutely right.” Taylor replied, grimacing, “I-thought you’d like to know that I found the ring though. In the parking lot; as I was leaving.” “The ring?” Tyler repeated, “My reputation is trashed and you’re talking about a ring.” “Our reputations are both trashed; I’m the one who had to play the third wheel to Sammy and Lauren’s cute little pity date.” Taylor informed him, “And I did not come all of the way out here to talk about either of our reputations or a ring. I came out here to talk about our future; and the answer is ‘yes’.” She had said “yes.” The campus power couple found their places in one another’s arms on that bluff underneath the starlit vastness of space, inches away from plunging over the bluff to the beach. Then the two of them walked back to their vehicles, hand in hand. XVIII If Samuel Moore had thought it was hard to say goodbye to Lauren Claye at graduation the year before, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Now, on a Tuesday morning, she was on her way to the airport to fly out to North Carolina and get settled before starting a new job; he was on his way to Chemistry in the middle of the University of SoCal. There were three bright spots out of the whole sorry situation that was Sammy’s constant longing for Lauren. They had at least been out together once so he had technically had his experience with dating her. She had acknowledged that his appreciation for her had been reciprocated. Best of all, she had agreed to the terms of a long-distance, long-term relationship (best utilized, of course, if she answered her phone in order to keep in touch with her new long-term, long-distance beau). Let the world say whatever they wanted about “stringy, (non)single Sammy.” The world would remind Sammy that he was the book-type and Lauren was beauty incarnate. What did the world know about them? Lauren liked him at least as much as he liked her; and that made all of the difference. “Lauren Claye,” he could hear from right behind him, “is in love with a geek.” “Her loss.” Replied a female voice that not twelve hours ago, had asked to be the “third-wheel” in the middle of a dating scenario just to relieve her precious Valentine’s Day. Sammy craned his neck around just in time to spy the well-documented, almighty “Tylor” approaching him. Sammy had half of a mind to recount what Lauren had said after Taylor had finally left but it still wasn’t in his nature to intentionally humiliate someone by proving them wrong in public. Tyler and Taylor, as audible as they had been, were still a few people back and hadn’t seen him yet. Sammy ducked behind the nearest shrub and the almighty campus “power-couple” sashayed toward the student union without a care in the world outside of themselves and with “the Hope Diamond” documenting Taylor’s slender ring finger. “I almost want to be happy for them though, you know?” Taylor was saying. “How do you figure, baby?” Tyler responded. “Well, if you and L.C. had stayed together,” Taylor answered, flicking her wrist so that the sunlight would intentionally catch her ring, “this precious little cut wouldn’t have looked half as good on her finger.” “Couldn’t agree more, darlin’.” Tyler scoffed, opening the door for her, “Only for you.” The couple was gone and Sammy rose up from behind his shrub and absently dusted himself off, shocked at what he had just heard. The world was entitled to say whatever they wanted about “Lammy;” but it was entitled to its uneducated opinion, not the opinions of “Lammy’s” peers. Besides, and this was crucial to his point, they could say what they wanted about “Lammy,” could certainly say anything about Samuel Moore. Still, Lauren would forever be off-limits to unsolicited criticism. Especially from her ex-boyfriend and the little princess whom had gotten herself invited along just to trash Lauren and Sammy behind their backs barely a day later. It was almost enough to cause Sammy to throw his civil rules out the window and confront the two of them. If he wasn’t already late for class. XIX The auditorium where she practiced was the same auditorium where she had run through stunts and routines several hours a day, several times a week, for several semesters. Still, the place ought as well have been a war zone to Heather Morrison that day. First of all, practices, as an unspoken rule, had been private for as long as she could remember. That day, Heather wandered in to practice, determined to forget what had happened the night before, and nearly tripped over Travis King. Heather could ignore her ex for all that he was still worth to her, offered him a curt nod of acknowledgement rather than a recanting of the rules and a map to the door, and swung her legs over the platform to mount the stage. Most of her friends were ready and willing to practice. The elite four had stashed themselves in a corner of the auditorium to trade gossip. Heather could have blown them all off for what they had proven themselves to be worth to her in the past couple of months; but their behavior was difficult to ignore. “Girls.” Heather called, straining to sound amiable but stern. The response from who had once been viewed as her closest friends was all too predictable, considering the private joke between all of them. Maria, Jen, Ashlynn, and Lindsey scattered from their gossip in a fit of unsuppressed giggles. Maria pointedly waved to Travis as she fell in line. Lindsey and Jenny were busily whispering to one another. Ashlynn paused beside Heather before getting in line. “So, Heather,” she announced, “I so totally forgot to ask; how did the rest of your little private date go last night?” “Get back in line, Ash.” Heather told her. Ashlynn merely smiled sweetly, shrugged, fluffed up her gym shorts, and disappeared into her place in line. With the lines having formed again, Heather turned her back to the crowd, ignored Travis, and began running through the usual rotations, fairly certain that she was being followed. The first whisper and forthcoming giggle told Heather otherwise. While not pausing in her rotations, Heather craned her neck to face the crowd behind her and the whispers and giggles died down. Go figure. She had shown up for practice, insistent on forgetting everything that had brought her to Tuesday, February 15, and she had shown up at practice with a huge target on her back. A target roughly the combined size of Adam Hurst and her. Then, before she knew it, Heather was no longer on the platform. A sharp pain, followed by a chorus of whispers, giggles, and guffaws, told her that she was no longer on the platform. The surrounding darkness told her that she had shut her eyes. Upon opening her eyes, Heather discovered that she was on her hands and knees in the middle of the auditorium, trying her best to pick herself up off of the ground. There was a time when she would have been helped back to her feet. That day, a few cell phone cameras went off to record her clumsiness instead. The head cheerleader finally managed to get up, dust herself off, and turned to face the crowd as they immediately grew silent again, though the unmistakable smirks were still there. “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow, girls.” Heather announced over her shoulder, never bothering to turn back to face the line of smirking faces behind her; or Travis’s in front of her. “Falling for me all over again?” He chortled under his breath, “I always knew that you’d come crawling back to ‘Traver.’ They always do.” “Goodbye, Travis.” Heather replied, letting the auditorium door slam behind her. She wasn’t in the mood to let anyone see her face, to see how they had affected her, and certainly in no mood to see Travis that day. A concert of giggles followed her out of the auditorium. Adam was swelled with more self-pride than he was trained to deal with as he went to dinner that night. Heather loved him; though he had already known that. He had even discovered the exact words to tell her so himself rather than relying on her interpretation of his actions. Besides, there was still the little issue that Ashlynn (another campus cheerleader) had tried to sneak him away from Heather. However, he was, of course, prouder of the sense of chivalry to stick to his guns, stick by his girl, man up, and speak up that he did, in fact, love Heather. Then, he snuck into the student union passed Tyler and Taylor and discovered a single disheveled girl. She sat alone, away from the usual crowds, and glanced down to face the table, refusing to meet anyone in the eyes. Adam would have thought better than to walk over and try to strike up a conversation, having already almost been stolen from Heather. Still, there was one factor that caused him to approach; the same fact that had directed his attention in the table’s direction in the first place: that beautiful girl purposely separating herself from the crowd was Heather Morrison. “Long day?” Adam asked, inviting himself to sit down. Heather almost sent the boy away in all of the misery that had defined her evening. She was three seconds away from explaining that she had a boyfriend just to get a little privacy restored to the situation when she realized who was sitting across from her. “Hi.” Was all that she said to Adam, dabbing gingerly at her eyes if only to mask the misery that she had been through. “Hey,” Adam replied, “how’d practice go?” The girls had intentionally invited Travis to practice to rub in Heather’s face one final time that they weren’t together. The same girls had giggled and gossiped about her right in front of her. Then they proceeded to giggle, gossip, and laugh some more as she collapsed from the platform under the weight of all of the pressure of her life. “It went.” Heather informed her new visitor. Still, when Adam didn’t go away right away, the whole sorry story came pouring out all over the table. “Sounds like Miss head cheerleader had kind of an off-day.” Adam murmured. He knew that such a statement only amounted up to “sympathy” and wanted very much to be able to say more. Still, Heather had recognized the statement for sheer “sympathy” and appreciated Adam’s time to sympathize with her. “It could have been a lot worse, you know.” She admitted, taking another swipe at her eyes and nose, “You could have left with Ashlynn last night.” “You’ll get through this.” Adam informed her, ready as ever to pack up what was left of his dignity. He loved Heather; no less than he ever did. Which only emphasized the point that, in order to protect her dignity, Heather needed to have a suitable squeeze on her arm; and the head cheerleader could not go walking around campus with the class bookworm. It was time to make some sacrifices for the greater good. Adam pushed his chair back and got up to walk away until a slender hand settled its way onto his shoulder. “We’ll get through this.” She announced, “Tomorrow will be another day. I guess it’s just pretty disheartening to learn the hard way who your friends are and aren’t.” “You’ll deal with your friends again tomorrow; and tomorrow can fend for itself.” Adam replied, “I take it you’ve been sitting around the student union long enough. Are you hungry?” Heather forced a damp smile; the first in she couldn’t remember how long but certainly her first that day. “Starved.” She answered, ready as ever to forget her ex, forget her “friends,” and enjoy a nice dinner with the boy whom had cared enough for her to stand beside her through it all. |
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