chapter twenty-three
Living was hard, but I was alive and that had to count for something. Right now, it was harder than normal. When I got home and my mom saw my freshly slapped cheek, she went through the roof like a rocket.
“We should file a police report, Steven.” She followed my father around the kitchen island. Little pieces of hair stood out from her twist like a dozen tiny fingers lining her temples. “How dare that woman hit our daughter?”
Dad grimaced. “I think contacting the police isn’t the best course of action right now.”
“I have to agree, considering it was the mom of the girl they think I killed who smacked me.”
“Samantha!” Mom whirled toward me, face aghast.
“What?” I threw my hands up. “It’s true.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been taking your medication?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, sitting down on the stool. A step outside the kitchen, Scott was eavesdropping. Not as if it was necessary. Anyone within five miles of our house could hear Mom. He made a face at me when our gazes met.
Dad leaned against the bar, lowering his head so we were eye to eye. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m just surprised.”
“Your entire cheek is bloodred.” Mom placed her cool hand against it. “Hitting our daughter is unacceptable.”
Pushing off the counter, Dad placed his hand on Mom’s lower back, but she quickly stepped away. “I think it’s best if we let this just die down,” he said, dropping his hand to his side.
A snowball’s chance in hell right there. Mom looked as if she wanted to lie down and die first, but Dad eventually got her calm. Surprisingly, Mom wasn’t drinking, which meant this was the perfect opportunity to really make her go crazy.
“So.” I drew the word out obnoxiously, earning a look from Mom. “I got a dress today for prom.”
“Oh.” Mom blinked and a faint smile appeared. “Did you? In town?”
“Yes. It’s a really pretty vintage dress from this thrift store. It’s in my room.”
“Thrift store?” she repeated slowly.
From the other room, Scott choked on his laugh. I kept my eyes focused on our parents.
“How much damage did you do on the Black?” Dad asked, referencing his credit card. I dug into my pocket and handed over the receipt. His brows shot up. “Honey, our daughter is perfect.”
She peered over his shoulders. “That’s all? I have to see the dress.”
Taking a deep breath, I slapped my hands down on my thighs. “And I have a date.”
Excitement lit her usually serious hazel eyes. “Did you and Del make up?”
There was another strangled sound from the other room, and I was two seconds from body-slamming Scott. “Uh, no…we didn’t make up.”
“Then who are you going to prom with, princess?”
I glanced at Dad. “I’m going with Carson.”
Mom sucked in a sharp breath and stared at me. It was almost as if I’d admitted to being part of a terrorist cell. “Samantha…”
“Don’t.” I stood, prepared to do battle. “I want to go to prom with him, and I’m going. He’s a good guy and there’s not a thing that’s wrong with him. And I swear to God, if the fact that his dad works for us is mentioned, I will lose my shit.”
“Samantha!” she snapped. “Language.”
Choosing the moment to make himself known, Scott strolled into the kitchen, clapping. “Hear! Hear! I second and third that.”
Mom folded her arms. “Scott, go to your room.”
He sat in the stool I was standing beside. “Carson is a really good guy. Better than Del the Dick.”
“Scott!” She was nearing stroke territory.
“Honey, I think…this is a good thing,” said Dad. When she started to protest, he gave her a meaningful look. “Let Samantha make her own choices. Just like you did.”
“That’s not the same,” she argued.
“If I remember correctly, your father didn’t think much of me, because I didn’t come from the right side of town.” He smiled, but something moved across his face. A quick grimace twisted his lips. “And Carson is a good boy. We’ve never had a problem with him.”
I bounced back on my heels. “Then it’s settled.”
Mom opened her mouth, but Dad jumped in. “It’s not like they’re getting married, for god’s sake. They’re just going to prom. That’s all.”
Suddenly, as I stared at my father, I understood what he wasn’t saying. Maybe it was because somewhere deep inside me I knew how he worked, what he truly believed. His acceptance of Carson wasn’t because he was that different from Mom, but because he saw this thing with Carson as temporary. I knew that if I announced that it was far more than temporary, he’d be joining Mom on the rocket blasting through the roof. No matter what his background was.
“Enough talk about my sister’s dating habits,” Scott said, drawing my attention. “Julie was telling me that Cassie’s mom was saying some crazy stuff.”
Back to that. I groaned. “Yeah, she kept saying that I was like ‘him,’ and I think she believes I know what happened, but I’m pretending not to.”
“Him?” Mom frowned, messing with those damn bangles.
“I don’t know.” I sat back down, shoulders slumping. “But she did say she warned Cassie to stay away from me.”
Scott rolled his eyes as he started rearranging the pears and apples in the fruit bowl. “That’s funny, because everyone needed to be warned to stay away from Cassie.”
Brushing his hands aside, Mom fixed the fruit back to the way she had them. “I really do think we should report this, Steven. The poor woman is obviously unstable.”
Dad shook his head, distracted. “We don’t need to involve the police.”
“But she’s making outlandish—”
“No police!” He slammed his hand down on the bar, causing all of us to jump. Exhaling roughly, he shook his head. “I’ll talk to Lincoln and give him a heads-up, if that makes you feel better.”
Mom stared at him, her cheeks heightened with color. “Yes. That would,” she said, her words clipped.
I glanced at Scott, who shrugged. An argument was definitely brewing, and I wanted to make a clean exit before it really got going. Watching them glare at each other and knowing that I was partially the cause of it sucked. Unnoticed by them, Scott and I slipped off the stools and out of the kitchen. The moment we rounded the corner, their voices went up.
“What do you think about them fighting?” I asked as we headed toward the basement.
Scott tossed an apple up in the air and caught it. “Who knows?” Throwing and catching the apple again, he looked at me. “But they took the Carson news surprisingly well.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, but I was distracted by how Dad had reacted to the idea of police. It had been the first time I’d seen him lose his cool, but I had a feeling I just didn’t remember all the other times.
Two Saturdays later, I stared at the bottle of pills for panic attacks. A nest of butterflies had taken up residency in my stomach and now stirred, sending warring darts of panic and excitement through me. Dr. O’Connell had said the hallucinations and memories were most likely triggered by anxiety.
And going to prom with a boy I had seriously fallen for had my nerves stretched thin.
Turning the bottle of pills over, I swallowed. Taking one of these would ensure that I didn’t freak out, but I’d be numb to everything: the first time Carson took my hand, danced with me, or—hopefully—kissed me. I wanted to feel it all, not just coast through it. And I was doing fine. No notes. No hallucinations. No memories. I didn’t need these pills.
Decision made, I placed the bottle back in the medicine cabinet and closed the door. My reflection suddenly stared back at me. I’d spent the better part of the afternoon and evening doing my hair and makeup so that it would look perfect.
Brown, smoky eye shadow covered my lids, accentuating the green f
lecks. Opting for a faint shimmer instead of blush, my cheekbones looked higher, more defined. A glossy coat on my lips gave them that ready-to-be-kissed look. As Julie had suggested, I’d had my hair done with her earlier in the day. Curled into thick ringlets, my hair was twisted up by the stylist and artfully arranged. A few tendrils hung loose, framing my face.
A throat cleared, and I turned. Mom stood in the doorway of my bathroom and smiled a little. “You look beautiful, honey.”
“You think?” I ran my hands down the sides of the dress.
She nodded. “You really do.”
I smiled back at her. “Thank you.”
Mom turned her head, but I saw the wetness gathering in her eyes. “Your date is waiting downstairs, getting interrogated by your father as we speak.”
My eyes widened, and the butterflies took flight, trying to claw their way out. “He’s here?”
She backed up, letting me slip past her. I grabbed my clutch and made it to the door before she stopped me. “Carson looks very nice, Samantha.”
Surprised, I glanced over my shoulder. There were no words. Hell was having a snowball fight.
“Have fun,” she said. “You deserve it.”
“I will.” I blinked back tears. No way was I ruining all this makeup. “Thank you.”
Mom ushered me out of the room. Nerves taking over, I almost didn’t go down the staircase, but she whispered words of encouragement and down I went, feeling like one of those girls in the cheesy teen movies.
Dad had Carson cornered in the sitting room off the foyer, and I grinned. Both of them had their backs turned, but what I could see of Carson in a tux so far, I liked.
I liked a lot.
Carson must have heard my heels clacking on the floors, because he turned around, a small, plastic box in hand. Our gazes locked, and the look in his eyes curled my toes. Then his gaze dropped and the naked approval in his expression had me wishing we were alone.
But we weren’t.
Dad cleared his throat. “You look lovely, princess.”
“Wow,” Carson murmured, his eyes drifting slowly back to my face, leaving scorching heat behind. “Sam…”
“Hey,” I said, my gaze dropping to the box. “For me?”
Carson swallowed as I moved to his side. His fingers shook slightly as he slipped a beautiful lily corsage that must’ve cost a small fortune out of the box and onto my wrist. I lifted my lashes, and found him staring back at me, his eyes an intense cobalt.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I flushed. “Thank you. So do you.” And he did. The tux fit his broad shoulders and looked good against his sunbaked complexion. Magnificent.
Surprising me again, Mom actually wanted to take pictures. We posed for a couple of shots, and the small of my back tingled from the slight pressure of his hand. Through the whole process, I felt as if I were floating.
We escaped after Dad gave my cheek a quick kiss and Carson another hard look. Stepping out into the early-evening spring air, Carson found my hand and squeezed. “I’m not sure I want to go to prom.”
“What?” I let him lead me over to his father’s truck. “You don’t want to go?”
He opened the door for me. “I’m not sure I want to share you with anyone.”
I laughed. “I’m all yours.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” He waited until I climbed in and then bent, kissing me softly on my cheek. “I’m really, really going to hold you to that.”
A fine shiver danced over my skin as I watched him close the door. He flashed me a quick, almost wicked grin before he jogged around the front of the truck. Once behind the wheel, he turned to me.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he admitted, the tops of his cheeks flushed. “That you are with me.”
A good kind of burn moved up my throat. “I can’t believe it took me this long to be here with you.”
chapter twenty-four
We met Scott and Julie at the Cashtown Inn for dinner. Reservations for the place had to have been hard to come by, but Dad had apparently pulled some favors and got the four of us a table in the packed dining room. Over a candlelight dinner, everything that had been going on faded into the background.
I hadn’t laughed so hard in so long, and I don’t think I’d ever felt this good before, sharing a way-too-fancy meal with my brother and his girlfriend, Carson’s hand around mine under the table.
And none of the other kids at the inn said or did anything that indicated there’d be any problems. If anything, most seemed shocked when Carson and I headed out, hand in hand.
“You ready to do some dancing?” Julie asked, looking sexy in her shimmery dress and bob.
I nodded, grinning up at Carson. “How about you?”
He moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Lowering his cheek to mine, he smiled. “I’m going wherever you are.”
Scott glared at us. “I’m not sure I like this.”
“Oh, shut up.” Julie grabbed his arm, tugging him toward the car. “It’s time to party.” Grumbling, Scott let her pull him away. She looked over her shoulder, mouthing “Hot” before she smacked my brother’s butt.
I laughed, leaning into Carson. He made a sound that caused a deep flutter in my chest, and his arms tightened around me. “If we don’t leave right now for the dance,” he said, his lips brushing my ear, “I’m pretty sure we’re not going to make it.”
My cheeks were flushed the entire way to the hotel holding our senior prom. With my arm wrapped securely in his, we headed through the back entrance, following the steady beat of music and laughter to the ballroom.
I tightened my grip on his arms once we stepped inside. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting the only light over the pack of moving bodies. Lilies adorned the small round tables; what looked like garlands of roses decorated the stage under the banner. Small bushes and indoor trees were decorated with twinkling lights. The place was beautiful, surreal.
Almost immediately, friends greeted Carson. I smiled, loving the ease with which Carson dealt with people, the casualness and open friendship. People gravitated to him and, through him, to me. Several shocked looks greeted us, but I didn’t care. There wasn’t anything that could ruin this.
Julie and Scott reappeared, and before Carson and I could share one dance, she tugged me onto the floor. “Dance!” she demanded, throwing her arms up in the air.
Laughing, I obliged and learned that I wasn’t a bad dancer. Catching the beat easily, I moved to the music, losing myself in the fast rhythm. A sense of familiarity crept over me and, with it, a twinge of guilt, but I shook it off in favor of just enjoying the moment.
When the song ended, we headed back to where we’d left the guys. I bumped into a small brunette in a black dress. “Sorry!” I yelled over the music.
She turned around, eyes widening with surprise. “Sammy? You came?”
“Lauren, you look great.” And she did. The dress fit her lithe body perfectly.
I expected her to hurl an insult in my direction, but she gave me a quick hug. “You do, too. Who did you come with?”
“Carson Ortiz.” Pride shot through me. I came with him.
She blinked, but her smile didn’t falter. “That’s really awesome.” Someone called her name, and she glanced away briefly before turning back to me. “Maybe we can get together soon? Catch a movie?”
“I’d like that,” I said truthfully.
“Great!” She gave me another hug. “See you around.”
Smiling, I headed back to Carson. I caught a quick glimpse of Candy grinding on Trey in a dark corner. Both looked a little tipsy. Ignoring them, I slipped my arm around Carson’s waist from behind. “Dance?”
He turned, leaving his group of friends without another word. We moved onto the dance floor, finding an empty spot. Then he slid an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. Our bodies