Page 14 of With You

“You forget we were still teenagers when we met,” she chastised but the smile stayed on her face. “High school me wasn’t all that different. I kept my head down, eye on my future, wore a lot of black.”

She was probably just as feisty then, throwing that same scowl at every overconfident boy that thought they could win her over. I’d like to think that she even beat the crap out of one or two of them.

“What about you? I bet you had all kinds of awards and accolades. Let me guess, valedictorian, technology award, most likely to succeed, perfect attendance?”

She wasn’t wrong, I had all of those and more. Winning those awards didn’t feel half as good as Sam teasing me, though.

“More or less. Athletics certainly weren’t my forte as you well know. Much to my father’s displeasure,” I added bitterly. Graham Ross certainly never let me forget what a failure I was in that arena.

“You don’t mention them much, your family. Do you ever talk to them?”

We’d never spoken about my family. It was my least favorite subject and since Sam came back into my life our conversations mostly consisted of work or her calling me an idiot for whatever stupid thought I’d chosen to say aloud that day.

Now she was asking me something real, she seemed genuinely interested in my answer. And because this was Sam, I’d give her anything she asked.

“Not since I left for basic. My relationship with my family even before then was already,” I searched for a better word choice than fucked up, “strained.”

“Siblings?”

“One brother, Whit, he’s older. Mom and Dad are still together, too. But it’s that weird waspy kind of marriage, maybe they loved each other at one point but now it’s more for show than anything. My dad and I had a falling out when I informed him of my enlistment and he not so subtly told me I was dead to him, my mom followed his lead.”

“Damn, Roe. That’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, really. I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.” Except for the one night I’d had with her. Nothing has ever made me as happy as that.

“I never knew my dad, it was always just me and my mom.” I knew that, of course I did. I’d made it my obsession to gather every piece of information pertaining to Samantha Hebert and hoard the precious pieces of her in my mind.

“Did your mom ever tell you who he was?” Her shoulders tensed and I regretted the question. Sam was often like an unbroken horse—beautiful and wild and incredibly skittish when it came to talking about herself.

“She did, he was her boss actually. She was his assistant, young, naïve and thought he loved her. He told her he did, anyway. Told her that he was going to leave his wife, too. When my mom got pregnant with me, he dropped her, she lost her job, had to leave her home. As far as I know he’s still married. Seems like we have shitty dads in common,” she smiled at me with commiseration.

“What an asshole. You and your mom deserved so much better, Sam.”

“Thanks, I think you deserved better, too. I’ve missed this.” Her change in subject threw me.

“Missed what?”

“You, our friendship. I never meant to hurt you, Roe.” Her eyes dropped and she scratched at a splinter in the wooden table top.

I swallowed, my throat uncomfortably tight. Of course, she didn’t, Sam wasn’t an intentionally cruel person. I’m sure if she’d known my feelings, she never would’ve even suggested spending the night together. Which would’ve been the worst thing that ever happened to me. Although, I’d be lying if I said her rejection didn’t still hurt all these years later. I laid my palm on top of hers, gaining her attention.

“You never lost me, Sam. We may have spent some time apart, but I was always your friend. Still am, in fact.”

We stared across the table at one another and an invisible weight lifted as we came to terms with our past. There was no erasing what happened but maybe our friendship could have a second chance.

“Are you guys finished?” Sam pulled her hand out from under mine at the question. A group of kids were standing next to our table with full trays of food and drinks.

“Sure, go ahead.” I grabbed our trash and stood up, lifting my right leg over the bench seat and then my left. The kids fell on the table, claiming it for themselves before someone else came along.

“Back to the hotel?” I asked once we’d returned to our car.

“Back to the hotel,” she repeated, that wall going back up slightly.

I didn’t care, though. Sam had opened up to me, let me in and admitted that she missed how close we once were. It was a step in the right direction for both of us.

When I turned the key in the ignition, the song on the radio was one of my favorites and I turned up the volume, singing along terribly every time the chorus started, making her laugh and roll her eyes.

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