Page 6 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

Twenty minutes later, the guys and I are cruising in Ang’s old Dodge Charger while Pearl Jam cries about car accidents and dead lovers, and we pull up out front of the ice-cream parlor that boasts a six-foot plastic ice-cream cone out front. Luc kicks it on the way past as he grumbles about the weird smile the plastic statue shoots at us, and Marc smacks him on the back of the head because we know the owner of the parlor, obnoxiously known as Ms. Dixie, will beat our asses for touching her ice cream man / possibly inanimate lover / fake boyfriend… Again. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s called the cops on us for assaulting her man. And it’s definitely not the first time my dad has had to fake a professional face and tell us off while inside he’s laughing about how creepy Ms. Dixie is about the damn statue.

We walk into the black and white floor and walls checkered parlor, and while the rest of the guys wander to the booths on the far wall, my eyes instantly land on Sammy’s. She knows I’m here too. I’m unable to take my eyes from hers as they stare right back at me. Her bottom lip moves between her teeth, that perfect rose blush fills her cheeks, and her hands shake as she attempts to scoop ice-cream while she watches me.

Yeah. She’s not unaffected by me.

“Hey there, Turner. How you doin’ today?”

My eyes snap momentarily to Sassy St James, with the long blonde hair and big boobs that I think for sure are at least half padded bra, then I shrug my shoulders in answer and look back to Sammy. I walk the last few feet toward the front counter and wait for her eyes to meet mine. “Hey Sammy. How are you today?”

Her hands continue to shake as she rings up the kid before me, then she rights the cutest – ugliest – little hat to ever grace her head. “Hey, I’m doing alright. What can I getcha?”

“Sleep well last night?”

The blush continues to color her cheeks as her eyes flitter over my face and chest. She nods softly. “Yeah, I slept well. I heard you and the guys put on a good show last night.”

“You asking after me, Ricci?” I shouldn’t tease her. I should just shut my damn trap and let her ask after me, but just the thought that she may be curious enough has my heart doing somersaults.

“Um, no,” she stammers and starts nervously wiping the clean counter. “Sassy was there, and she wouldn’t shut up about Luc when she came in today.”

Sassy wanders by us, scoffing and snapping a towel on Sammy’s ass. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sammy smiles a genuine we’re both on the inside of this joke and we’re the only ones here smile, and my stomach starts cartwheeling too. I want to be in on all of Sammy’s inside jokes. I want to be Sammy’s everything.

My friends and brothers may call it bullshit, they may call this a passing phase or a shiny obsession, but I know the truth. Love at first sight is a real thing, and I know with everything in my body that Sammy was destined to be mine. This shit was destiny, she was mine before she ever even walked into my lab class, and even if she’s not quite aware of it yet, I am and I know the damn truth.

I lean forward closely, so close, like I’m gonna tell her a secret, and like she expects me to whisper, she leans forward too. She smells like candy, like a rainbow of skittles. “I wanna take you out Sammy. One date. Take a chance on me. Don’t live a half-life. You’ll always regret it.”

Pulling away slowly, she shakes her head sadly and wipes the clean counter again. “I can’t. My parents would never allow it.”

“Are you not allowed to date, period? Or is it me?”

She nervously bites her bottom lip again. “Both?”

“What’d I do to your parents? They don’t even know me.”

She shrugs, not coldly, but as though she has simply accepted her fate. “They think they know you, and you’re officially on the no-fly list. I’m sorry.”

She’s breaking my damn heart. “Ricci--”

“And if you keep bothering me at work, I’m going to get fired.” Her desperate green eyes are pleading. “I begged my folks for this job and I need the cash. Don’t ruin this for me.”

My hand dives into my pocket and I pull out a twenty, the biggest note I have on me, and I shove it onto the counter in front of her. “Can I have a glass of water? Keep the change.”

She rolls her eyes. “Water’s free, Turner. Go take a seat and I’ll bring it over.” She picks the cash up and thrusts her hand back toward me. “Take your money. My treat.”

She laughs nervously at her joke, but I step away. “Whatever you’re so desperate to save for, I want to help. Keep the twenty, I’ll take the water when you have a moment. Don’t rush.”

I walk away before she finds a way to give my money back, but I watch her from the corner of my eyes to make sure she pockets the twenty and doesn’t give it to Sassy or throw it in some community tips bowl. That’s not how this is going down. That was my money and now it’s hers. Not Sassy’s, and absolutely not Dixie’s.

I sit down in a large booth with the guys and a couple girls from school that pounced as soon as they sat, and I lean forward and start organizing the sugar packets. The group have messed up the table, ripping napkins and spreading the sugar packets. I’ll be damned if Sammy has to clean up after these pigs.

I absentmindedly tidy and watch as customers trickle in and out and Sammy serves them with a big fat fake smile, then ten or so minutes later, she grabs a glass and starts filling it with tap water. Giddiness rolls through my stomach. It’s my turn.

The people at the table around me laugh and joke and reminisce about the party last night and parties of times gone by, but they’re just white noise in the background. What I really hear in my mind is the song I wrote for Sammy, and I watch her stride toward me without even realizing she’s matching her steps to the beat in my head. It’s a slow song with a deep bass, something a couple might choose as a first dance on the day they marry.

As far as I’m concerned, it’ll be the most romantic song ever written, because it’s about her and me.

Sammy’s brown hair doesn’t hang loose today. Dixie makes the girls wear it in a low ponytail and then plops an ugly hat on top, but she looks beautiful anyway. She looks amazing. She hasn’t changed all that much since the day I met her; her teeth have straightened a little and her hair has been cut and grown out a couple times, but she’s still all legs and long arms and clicky knees.

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