Page 21 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

“Douchey name.”

She giggles in my arms. “Totally douchey. But anyway, the guy has a daughter. Guess how old she is and who’s gonna be on babysitting duty.”

My mouth pulls up into a sneer, because I know what this means. We already barely spend time together. We have the hour here in the mornings, then class time. Then sometimes we get a bit of time together in the afternoon, but we’re both so busy with school, work, the band, and life, plus her parents don’t like me, so we don’t really get a lot of time together. “Wait. Is she gonna go to our school?” There’s still the vague hope she might go to the other high school in this town, but Sammy’s shaking head has my heart dropping again. “Is she gonna snitch? If she’s gonna be up your ass, will she tattle about us to your dad?”

“I dunno.” Her breath comes out on a sad sigh. “I hope not. I… I just don’t know.”

“We still have tutoring though, right? And here. She won’t follow you here in the morning, right?”

“Right. We still have this.”

I kiss her shoulder. “We’ll make it work. No matter what, we make it work.”

She turns her face and presses a juicy kiss to my bicep. “Okay. You gonna swim with me again today?”

“Hell yes.” I stand quickly and rip my shirt over my head as she giggles. The water is cold as fuck in the mornings, but it’s one hundred-percent worth it, because I get to hold her soft body against mine with her legs wrapped around my stomach for most of the hour while we kiss.

– Sammy –

Megan Montgomery

“Samantha, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Arthur Montgomery is just as douchey as Sam and I stereotyped him to be. He wears a three-piece suit to brunch at my house on a Saturday morning, and he brought a bottle of scotch as a host gift. Like, really? He’s not even coming from church or anything. He holds his hand toward me, a full thirty minutes after he arrived, as though he’s only just noticed my presence - which he has, because he was too busy brown-nosing to notice me.

His daughter hung around a few feet behind him the whole time they’ve been here. Long light brown-blonde hair, slim dancer’s body, skittish eyes; I silently kiss my freedom goodbye, because I know, if anybody’s going to be a snitch, it’s going to be the daddy’s girl Megan Montgomery.

This is my senior year, the year I should be having a little more fun, not babysitting a skittish snob and not spending time with Sam. Dammit, I probably should have listened to that know-it-all in the ninth grade. I threw three years away because I was scared.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and take Arthur’s hand in mine. “Mr. Montgomery. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

He turns to locate his shy daughter, then grabbing her arm, he brings her front and center. “Samantha, this is Megan Elizabeth Montgomery. Megan, this is Samantha. She’ll be happy to show you around your new school on Monday.”

Will I?

Megan with the blonde hair and shy smile shakes my hand. “Hi Samantha. You can call me Meg, if you wanna.”

“You can call her Megan,” Arthur interrupts with a glare. “That’s the name your mother and I gave you, god rest her soul.” Arthur crosses himself, and Megan bites her lip, but she nods softly and squeezes my hand kindly.

“Hi Megan,” I step back and wipe my palms on my own fancy skirt. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She does the tiniest little curtsy and peeks up beneath her lashes. “And you too.”

“Are you looking forward to your first day at school on Monday?” Small talk. I hate it. I was raised to spout it off under pressure, but still, I friggin loathe it.

She smiles shyly. “Of course. Daddy and I are excited about our new adventure. I hope to be accepted into the gifted program soon. I have a meeting with the principal on Monday, and hopefully after some written exams, I’ll be placed in the appropriate classes.”

Jesus. This is almost painful.

“After the written exams,” Arthur scoffs. “They have her transcripts. She should be accepted on those alone.”

“It’s okay, Daddy. I don’t mind the tests. I like them.”

My own father walks back across the room toward us, with small glasses of sherry in his hands and a dirty grin on his face that means he’s about to get his own way on something. He passes a glass to Arthur, then he looks at me. “You girls should skedaddle. Take Megan to your room or go for a walk into town. Maybe even Dixie’s.”

Arthur smiles. “That’s a good idea. Stay out of trouble, girls.”

My father continues to grin. “They’re both good girls. Sammy won’t lead Megan astray.”

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