Page 11 of The Four Leaf

What is wrong with me?

I bite down on my lip and spin on my heels to leave. But the moment I touch the doorknob, one singular word stops my movement. It rocks my world and tears down everything I thought I knew.

It changeseverything.

It’s a heady moan, full of lust not even I can misconstrue. And when he says it again, I come undone.

“Samantha.”

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe the only thing holding me back from letting down my guard and really pursuing Sam was me.

I watched her deny at least twenty guys on that app, and each one appeared to be the same flavor, just in a different colored suit. Perhaps she’s bored, like I was before I figured it out. Before I realized the things I needed to make me feel like me.

It’s clear in the way she responds to me–her body’s natural reactions.

Her big doe eyes, her throbbing pulse, the pungent scent of fear and want, wafting in the air. Sam wants the excitement.

She craves it.

Which could mean she may very well desire what I have to give.

My heart swells in my chest, the idea that things don’t have to be a desire but could be a reality, making my blood soar.

Tonight, I’ll make it happen. Find a way to tell her everything.Showher everything, and then go from there. It’s been daunting to be lost in what-ifs, what could bes, and maybes. At least after tonight, I’ll know.

We both will.

I unlock the door to the spare room. There were plenty of times we had to have sleepovers up here while our parents worked late into the night. Most of the time, we would stuff ourselves with popcorn and watch the latest Disney channel movie, or play board games. On some occasions, after Willow fell asleep, or got lost in her phone, talking to her latest girlfriend, Sam and I would wander the halls.

We’d look into the few rooms yet to be renovated and talk about what we imagined happened in the past. The types of people who would come stay here. We’d even come up with stories when we found little knickknacks.

One of the last times we searched the rooms, Sam tripped and fell hard into an old dresser. She’s always been a little clumsy, but that was the day she solidified the “Bambi” nickname. I laughed after helping her up and used it for the first time.

“Come on, Bambi, get yourself together.”

Her brown eyes flare before she chucks something small and round at my face. “Shut up. The carpets are crumpled. You should have caught me.”

A heavy rock of guilt drops into my stomach as I bend to pick up the object. It’s a dainty gold ring. Plain without all the frills, but on the inside, a script runs across the band.

My lucky charm.

“You’re right, Sam.” I take a step toward her and pull her soft hand toward me. She stands perfectly still, her shuddered breathing the only sound in the room. I slip the ring onto her thumb and twirl it around. “A promise to always catch you when you fall. Both physically and in life. My best friend to the end.”

I winced when I heard my own words out loud, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. She was all bright smiles and batting eyelashes. Her aura lit me up from the inside and her response fueled my decision to follow dreams I shoved away as just that–dreams.

“And as your best friend, I promise to always support anything you do. I know you were meant for bigger things outside of these walls, and I’m excited to be standing on the sidelines, cheering you on.”

With a weary sigh, I turn on the water. She still wears the ring. It’s on the middle finger of her right hand. Not once have I ever seen her take it off, which, in a way, irritates me more when I truly consider what it could mean.

I should have trusted her with this part of my life sooner. Saved myself the torture of wondering what we would be like. What we’dreallybe like.

After testing the water, I step inside and try to force my body to relax. To not think of everything that’s happened today. But the more I try to empty my thoughts, the harder I have to work.

To be honest, I’m only so strong when it comes to Sam. Always have been. It’s the only part I like about having to leave for games and training–the forced space. It gives me time to breathe, to not overwhelm myself with wanting to forgo my fears and fall into her.

The hot water pelts into my tight muscles. I expect the pent-up tension to begin melting, but when it doesn’t, I attempt to focus on the heat. On the way the warm droplets glide over my back and down my legs.

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