Page 1 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

PART 1

Young Love

Prologue

I was one of the lucky ones.

I met the love of my life when I was just fourteen years old. We had all the time in the world, we were in no rush to get where we were going, and we had the world at our feet.

Those were the perfect conditions for young love to grow and thrive.

Sammy Ricardo and her folks moved to our little town at the beginning of ninth grade. She was all knees and elbows, long and lanky limbs, but with big green eyes and long brown hair that almost touched her ass. One single taste, one look into her beautiful eyes, and I was a goner. The first day Sammy nervously walked into first period science with her books clutched to her chest and her gaze downcast, was the day my young life changed.

She wouldn’t know it yet, but she was it for me.

She wouldn’t know it, or at the very least, she wouldn’t acknowledge it for three full years after that day.

Sammy Ricardo was a tough nut to crack, but that didn’t worry me. For a guy my age, with all the energy a teenager possesses and unlimited time to get stuff done, I didn’t fret for a single second about the uphill battle I had ahead of me.

Samantha Ricardo would marry me one day. I just knew it to be true. And she’d be worth every single second of waiting.

“Dude.” Angelo elbows me in the ribs. “You’re drooling. You having a stroke or something?”

I nod as Sammy slowly moves down the center row of our classroom in search of her seat. There’s only one spare chair left and it’s directly behind me. Fuckin’ A. “She’s beautiful.”

Angelo’s eyes follow mine. “Miss Caine?” He nods toward our young teacher. “Yeah, she’s smokin’.”

“No, not Miss Caine. Sammy.”

“Oh.” He drags his eyes from our blonde and beautiful twenty-something year old teacher and stops on Sammy again. He nods his head in that way people do when they’re saying ‘eh.’

“She’s okay.”

I drag my eyes from the beauty queen striding toward me and I look at my best friend to check if he’s gone momentarily blind. “She’s okay? Have you lost your damn mind? She’s stunning.”

“Okay, well,” he murmurs under his breath as she passes within three inches of me. I actually, literally lean into the aisle like a total creeper just for the chance to catch a whiff of what would become my favorite smell for the rest of my life. “I guess it’s a good thing she’s not my type. She’s all yours bud.”

“Yeah.” I smile at that. She’s all mine.

“Though you might wanna ease up sniffing her before she slaps you with a restraining order, bro.”

Her shy eyes meet mine as she moves past, then she takes a seat behind me, noisily dragging the lab stool out and shuffling in nervously and dropping her books to the surface. I angle in my chair to keep her in my sight, though I’d prefer to literally turn around and rest my elbows on her desk and my chin in my hands. “A restraining order? Nah, she wouldn’t do that. She’s cool.”

“You don’t even know her!” Ang’s words are too damn loud, and not only does Sammy look up, but so does our entire class.

“You boys okay back there?”

Angelo and I turn back toward our teacher and nod as we take our pens and books out of our bags. “Jesus. Pipe down, Chachi. You’ll freak her out.”

“Me?” He turns back, and like the prisoner I already am, I turn too. Sammy’s eyes meet mine and a beautiful rose blush fills her cheeks. “I’m not the one declaring undying love for someone I have literally never met.” His words are almost silent, I can barely hear them, and unless she’s related to Superman, she couldn’t have heard him either, but the blush continues to saturate her cheeks. She’s so beautiful.

“Be cool.” I hit his arm. We both turn back to the front and leave the beautiful girl in peace... For now. “She’s gonna be your sister one day, Ang. Make sure she likes you. I’d hate to have to kick you out of the band.”

Angelo scoffs at my words, but he goes back to studying Miss Caine’s ass as she writes on the black board and I start mentally preparing Sammy’s and my life together.

Step one: Introduce myself.

Step two: Ask her to marry me.

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