Page 96 of So Wild

“It’s been brought to my attention that maybe I’m not the most…open person in the world, and ever since you came back, I’ve been driving myself crazy pretending what I felt for you was just lust or unfinished business.” She glanced up at him quickly and then her gaze dropped back to her shoes. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to talk about everything that happened, but I think we have to. I think that’s what I need to trust you. Or maybe, think about, perhaps, possibly, being able to trust you.”

Scott couldn’t help smiling at her list of backpedalling words. “I agree. We can talk about whatever you want to talk about. Shall I put the kettle on?”

“Um, not yet. I just have something I want to say to you and if we move too much, I’m scared I’ll lose my nerve.”

“Anything.”

She licked her lips. “The day your mum died. I saw you throw my pie on the grass.”

Of all the things he’d expected to talk about, he hadn’t counted on that. The memory of that had him shrinking into his kitchen tiles, going down and back to that hateful day.

“I don’t mind that you did it,” Sam said quickly. “You’d just lost your mum and you must have felt like you were going crazy, I just didn’t knowwhyyou did it. Because…because you didn’t ruin anyone else’s food. Just mine.”

Scott stared at the woman in front of him, seeing her hurt and confusion clearly for the first time. He screwed his eyes up, searching for the right words. “I was crazy. That’s the only way to describe how I felt. I wanted to tear my fucking hair out. Dad had vanished, and mum’s family had gone to meet with the funeral home. I was by myself and I felt like I was going mad. There was a knock on the door but I didn’t want to answer and when I went out later, I found that fucking pie.”

Sam flinched at the anger in his voice.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s not what you think. My mum loved them. The pies. Toward the end, they were the only thing she’d eat. And when she was gone and I saw it lying there on the porch, I just…”

“I get it.” Sam looked up at him and he saw her eyes were shining with tears. “You don’t have to explain.”

Scott took her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. “I do. I was mad at you when I threw it in the backyard. It’s so unfair, but I think I wanted you to come and talk to me, not send me a fucking pie. I know that’s incredibly selfish, but it was what I wanted.”

Samantha’s shoulders hunched over, her gaze on the floor between them. “It isn’t selfish. I saw you from my window and I almost climbed the tree to go to you.”

They stared at each other, and Scott felt his throat grow thick with emotion. She’d wanted to come to him and he’d almost gone to her. How different life would have been if they’d managed it—Samantha at his side at the funeral, no buy­scott­sanderson­aroot.com, losing his virginity to the girl he loved, no move to London, or maybe a London where Samantha sat laughing on his bed as he put up his posters.

“We fucked up, didn’t we?” Sam whispered. “We completely fucked up.”

Scott remembered what Edgar had told him in the rain as he stood trying to smoke his first cigarette. ‘She’s stubborn and you’re shy and you’re both young. It’s not the right time.’

“We weren’t ready back then,” he said. “We felt all these things, but we couldn’t talk about it. It just didn’t work.”

Sam, whose eyes were still shining with tears, snorted. “What about now? I still can’t talk to you, Galahad. I drew a pussy on your face instead of talking to you.”

“And I climbed in your window and had sex with you instead of talking to you.”

Sam shook her head. “Are we idiots, doomed to failure and too stupid to realise?”

Scott laughed. “I don’t think so, you came over, didn’t you? And I’m guessing it wasn’t to tell me that you’ll never trust me, not never, never, never.”

She glared at him. “I might have come here for that. You don’t know.”

“I think I do.” Scott raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Maybe all this drama has just been us getting it out of our systems. Maybe from here on out, we can use our words and be proper adults about things.”

“That would be nice. Boring, but nice.”

They smiled at one another.

Scott inhaled, smelling her perfume. He recognised the sugary pink scent of Britney Spears’ Fantasy, as evocative of the early-noughties as flip phones and The OC theme song.

“The uniform,” he said, brushing his hands over her shoulders. “Why did you wear it?”

Sam ducked her head. “I think I was hoping to go back to another time and place, have a second chance. Sorry, that’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?”

He didn’t think it sounded ridiculous. It sounded like a dream come true. Scott put a finger under her chin and gently tilted. Samantha’s eyes locked on his, hypnotic as double pendulums. “Scott…”

“Don’t get embarrassed. What time do you want to go back to?”

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