Page 40 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

“No,” she grumbles, “we are not. He’s friends with Scotch. And I’m friends with you. That’s it. That makes us nothing more to each other than, say, eighth cousins, six times removed.”

I laugh and turn back to continue with my hair. “I don’t know why you two hate each other so much--”

“We don’t hate each other. We’re just… strangers to each other. And I have no desire to get to know him. He’s grumpy, he’s two years below us, and I have a boyfriend who, unlike yours, does mention sex. I don’t need to get to know him.”

I purse my lips at her reflection in the mirror. “You know, besides Sam, Marc might be one of the sweetest guys I know. He’s truly a gentleman. He’s ‘just’ my boyfriend’s brother, but he’d drive to the ends of the earth if I called him and needed help. He’s so protective of his little sister, and Sam’s sister too.”

“Yeah, and he’s also fifteen, so he isn’t actually driving anywhere. He also has a habit of calling me a whore. I’m happy where our friendship is; that is, there is none.”

Shaking my head softly, I shrug my shoulders. “I think you’re missing out on a good friend, but whatever, this is your life.”

“Yup. It is. On a separate note, did you wax your vajayjay for tonight? Give that boy a clear landing strip. It’ll be his first time too, so you gotta help the guy out.”

“Jesus, Meg. Can you shut up?”

– Scotch –

Prom

Not only is tonight prom night for us seniors, but Luc and Marc will also be there, because our still unnamed band was voted by our student counsel to play for the night. Ang and I will both work on and off through the evening, but we’re also here to have fun. While Luc and Mark can’t carry the whole set, they’ll do well enough, with Marc on vocals and guitar, and Luc carrying the beat.

Ang asked a girl from the grade below us as his date, and though I’m happy he asked someone, I know she’s not someone he’s genuinely interested in. He simply needed a date, and she’s a nice girl and agreed.

Ang and I drive across town in his old Charger, with Misty in the front passenger seat, and me in the back with Sammy’s corsage and a gift I bought special for tonight, and as we pull up at Meg’s house, the fancy gates swing open and allow our entrance. Angelo drives around the circular driveway and pulls up at the bottom of the stairs that are at least fifteen feet high. This house is huge, triple story and opulent… and absolutely out of my family’s price range.

Putting the car into park, Ang climbs out and folds the front seat forward. Climbing out behind him, he claps me on the shoulder and smirks at my goofy smile. “I called you crazy, but you did it.”

I continue to smile, because I’m so fucking happy it hurts. “What did I do?”

“You creepy-guy looked at a girl, decided on the spot you loved her before you were even old enough to get your period, then you stalked her for years, only to find out she was in fact cool, and she loves you back. That was the biggest bullshit gamble I’ve ever seen in my life, yet you pulled it off.”

I laugh, even as my gut flips with nerves. “Biggest gamble of my life, Ang. And I won.”

I walk up the front stairs, slowing as I watch the double doors open and Sammy walk out shyly looking like Miss Universe. I literally clutch at my chest as my heart swells almost painfully, and I study her from her long hair hanging low with soft curls, down a slim sparkling gown that shows so much skin it’s almost indecent, but in a beautifully classy way. I watch as she does a shy twirl, and I swallow as her bare back is out for me to see. I love how the straps crisscross over her shoulder blades, but then the slinky material exposes her down to sweet dimples low on her back – dimples I’ve already seen a billion times while down at the lake. Her skin is milky white and unblemished, though the gold fabric of her dress gives her skin a sun kissed glow. My mouth waters at how beautiful she is, and my hands itch to touch her. Soon, so soon, and she’ll be in my arms and we’ll be dancing.

I step forward, climbing the stairs until I can take her hand, then tug her until her soft chest bumps up against mine. My nose drops instantly to her fragrant hair, and my lungs fill with all things Sammy. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the whole world, Ricci.”

She breathes deeply and smiles her stunning smile. “Thank you. You look so handsome.”

I step back half a foot, lift her hand between us and gently slip a corsage over her delicate wrist, admiring how the ivory flowers complement the golden tone of her gown and light tan perfectly. Beautiful. Nerves whip around inside my stomach as I dig around in my pocket. Pulling out a small box and holding it between us, I swallow heavily. Sammy’s breath hitches, but her eyes dance with happiness as they flick between my hand and face. “I got you something, Ricci. Something I hope you’ll accept.”

“I’ll accept anything from you.”

“Anything?”

She nods softly. “Anything. I’ll always say yes to you, because you love me like no one else ever will. I trust you with my life.”

Jesus. She slays me. “From the girl I begged for two minutes of your time for years, to blind faith in a matter of weeks?”

She nods again, softly and a little jerkily. “Yup. Because you’ll never let me hurt.”

“No.” She’s one hundred percent correct. I’d walk in front of a bus to protect her. “No, Ricci. I’ll never let you hurt.” I flick the box open and reveal the small silver ring. A heart shaped face with a tiny gem inside the same bright blue as my eyes. Hopefully she’ll think of me every time she looks at it. “This is a promise ring, Sammy. A promise that I’ll make you happy for the rest of our lives, and a promise to marry you as soon as possible.”

Her eyes continue to dance as I take the ring from the box. Taking her right hand, I slide it onto the finger that would mean so much more if it was on her left hand. “A month until you turn eighteen, Ricci. From that day forward, my question changes from ‘will you date me?’ to ‘will you marry me?’ I’ve had years of practice, and I know you’ll have my name soon.”

Her hand moves softly, twinkling the tiny faux diamond, and her long hair falls over the front of her shoulder as she admires her ring. She looks back up at me with emotional eyes. “Stupid teenage hormones have me shouting ‘yes’ in my head.”

“Good. Hold onto that thought, because you’ll need it soon.”

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