Page 24 of A Constant Surprise

I hadn’t fucked anyone since Sam and I had our one night together. I couldn’t think of a time when I had gone more than a couple weeks without getting laid, but I was okay with it. I wasn’t even thinking of other women. Even when I got myself off, all I could think of was touching Sam again.

Sam. The elusive drug I that hooked me with one use and then was just out of arm’s reach.

This girl had me wrapped around her finger, and it didn’t bother me one bit.

I didn’t care because I knew she wasn’t trying to make me fall for her. Every time, I would think we were getting a little closer, she’d throw those walls up and shut me out.

Despite that, Sam was the most genuine person I had ever met. I’d watch her get all sappy at the sad puppy commercials, and I’d watch her give her last dollar to the homeless man outside the grocery store.

She believed she was broken, and although I had no idea why she felt that way, I did know that it wasn’t true.

The month of October came and went in a blur. Midterms took up a lot of time, so at the end of the month, I traded in my normal Halloween party for a night of watching scary movies with Sam. Totally worth it. She was adorable when she jumped out of her skin at the scary parts.

November, on the other hand, was one to remember.

Those crisp November nights started off like all the others. Sam and I ate dinner together, watched tv, talked, and laughed. She tried to slowly open up little by little, but I could see how hard it was for her.

One night, I had carried her up to her bed after she’d fallen asleep on the couch. After putting her in her bed, I went to my own room to read in an attempt to wind down for the evening.

About an hour later, the door creaked open.

“Sam?”

She slowly entered with tears streaking her cheeks.

I tossed my book aside. “Sam, what the fuck is wrong?”

She ran to my bed and climbed in next to me trying to calm herself enough to talk. I held her while she tried to compose herself.

Finally, she pulled back and said, “I had a dream about my mom.”

Wow.

I didn’t know much about her mom…just the vague fact that she’d died a few years back after being sick for a while.

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

She just shrugged and laid back on my chest.

Without looking back up at me, she spoke, “Do you remember me telling you my mom was sick?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that’s not really the whole story.”

Again, I sat quietly waiting for her to go on.

“My mom had us when she was young. She and my dad were high school sweethearts and so in love. I was born pretty much nine months after they graduated. After my brothers were born, she was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. She heard voices.”

Holy hell.

“Our childhood was rough because sometimes she was normal, and other times, the voices told her that we were the enemy…which led to some pretty scary encounters when we were little. But finally, the doctors found a medicine that helped quiet her mind. Problem was the meds just made her feel like a shell of a person. An empty shell.

“After she came after my brothers and I with a knife, my dad gave her the choice to stay on the medicine, or he would take us and leave. So, she stayed on it. But she sank further and further into depression. She would have really good days…and really bad ones.

“Sometimes, she was the best mom in the word. I remember playing dress-up with her for hours when I was little. But then, I also remember the times when she wouldn’t get out of bed for days at a time.”

Sam took a long pause like she was choosing her next words carefully.

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