Wow! This took some time. I had some personal and career related things come up. My apologies. I hope you enjoy the next chapter. More to come. Comment, vote, email me through my author's page.
-Eden McCauley
*****
Samantha knelt to undo the laces of her beat-up converse sneakers. Black smudges dotted the white strip making it look dingy and uncared for. The laces were soft and puffy from too many encounters with water and overall the shoes had seen better days. Pink and purple writing covered the back of the heel and these names were exactly why she hadn't gotten rid of the footwear.
She and her friends had cried together when they heard the news that she would soon be moving. She had looked at the faces of the girls she had grown up with that now she had to leave behind. It was a somber occasion until Tiffany had suggested that they give Samantha something of them to take with her.
They picked out their favorite sharpies from her art collection and wrote their names with hearts and stars decorations around the heels of her black and white converse. She cried as they worked, knowing that their names would never be enough to fill the emptiness she was going to feel.
The day they left her mother gave her a lavender, cloth-covered journal. "This helped me through some of my toughest times." Her mother smiled. "It can help you, too."
Samantha had stacked the diary in a box marked "Miscellaneous: Samantha." She found the writing poignant, like it summed up her current life. Hello, my name is Miscellaneous Samantha and I'm a jumble of things.
The first week of her life at her new school was a train wreck of poorly funded programs with poorly thought out lessons and the constant anxiety of running into Alpha Bitch #1 and her synonymous side-kicks. Each night, after barely touching her food, she showered, brushed her teeth, climbed into her bed and cried herself to sleep dreading the next day.
Until Friday.
The messy haired boy with the easy smile and the soft, genuine eyes had made her feel, for a moment, that she wasn't alone. That someone did care. That things could be okay.
Who are you fooling? The voice in her head asked. To think he would have anything to do with you?
In her anger she had torn through her boxes and flung her clothes around the room in a maelstrom of movement and fury. When she could no longer lift her arms she collapsed; the weeping eye of the storm. Eventually, she dared to open her eyes and through the haze of her tears what should she see but the soothing lavender shade of that cloth covered book her mother had given her.
She didn't write in it. Not for many months. But, she held that book to her chest and clung to it for dear life.
When Monday rolled around she awoke with an aching jaw from grinding her teeth in her sleep. In her dreams the brunette had become a monstrous demon with clown makeup and syringes for fingernails. Samantha was drained and ready to throw in the towel.
Her mother drove her to school, as usual, and Samantha cringed as she got out of the minivan to find her brown-haired, brown-eyed nemesis waiting on the sidewalk. She clenched her jaw once more. She hurried past the group of girls but when she thought she was clear and away, a hand touched her shoulder.
Samantha whirled around in a spark of anger ready to let loose her hatred upon this drab world she'd been dragged into. She halted before a sound escaped her lips. The brunette was looking at the ground, her hands twisted in front of her, and her shoulders shook ever so slightly.
"I'm sorry, Samantha." The brunette spoke in a quavering voice. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you and I shouldn't make it any harder."
Samantha was stunned.
"I don't expect your forgiveness, because I don't deserve it, but, I want you to know that I am sorry and I'm not going to be bothering you anymore."
"None of us will." The black haired girl beside her spoke softly. "We're all sorry."
Samantha didn't reply. She was too stunned. She turned slowly and walked into the school, amazed that a boy she'd met only once for such a brief time would do so much for her. That he would keep his promise to her.
Samantha threaded her fingers with Owen's, holding his hand in hers as he led her wherever he wanted her to go. Honestly, she couldn't care less. With her eyes turned up to study his determined face she let herself be steered and he took great care to make sure she never bumped into anything.
A door opened on old hinges and her spine tingled as it dawned on her that this was really going to happen; if she wanted it too.
Tearing her eyes from his features she was greeted by a separate room decorated in soft pastel pinks, reds, and purples. The bed was full-size with two pillows and pink duvet embroidered with purple lilies. The four posts of the bed were carved wood and filigree designs sat deep in the material. Somehow, the room felt like it was designed with her in mind.
She turned to face Owen and found him looking at the ground, his cheeks tinged pink.
He mumbled something so low she couldn't quite hear it.
"What?" She asked softly as she took his hand between both of her own.
He took a deep breath and looked further away from her. "It makes me think of you."
She looked around the room a moment before she released his hand.
He cringed as if slapped until her hands cupped his face. She turned his mouth toward hers and as their lips met she melted against him. Her breasts pressed against his ribs as he pulled her harder against him. She could feel his cock against her stomach and she opened her lips for his tongue.
Owen's cock hurt. It ached from the night's activities; the more turned on he got the worse the pain. Looking into Samantha's eyes after the stunner of a kiss he decided that she was worth all the pain and more. He rested his hands on her hips and kissed her again, pressing his lips to hers and feeling the silky slickness of mouth on his.
They broke apart, breathless, panting, and shyly staring at the floor.
Samantha fingered the wave of hair spilling in front of her face. "What do we do now?" She asked softly.
"Whatever you want?" Owen replied in a voice more steady than he felt.
"I don't want to script it. It should feel more natural, right?"
"This is natural." Owen replied. "This queasy, excited, burning feeling of uncertainty and desire is the most natural response to being naked and alone in a room with someone you want to sleep with."
"So, you feel it, too?"
"How could I not?" He swept her hair from her face and tucked the strands behind her ear. "I'm in a room with someone I have wanted for a long, long time and I'm nervous because I want everything to be perfect for her."
Samantha smiled at him. "It is perfect."
It was Owen's turn to smile. "So, what happens next is that we take our time and if at any point you want to stop, we stop." He was serious as he made his promise to her.
"Can you promise me you won't stop instead?" Samantha licked her lips. "I know what I want and I don't want you stopping until I get it. Can you do that?"
Owen's mouth was bone dry and incapable of sound so he nodded instead.
"Good." Samantha crawled onto the bed. "Then, I'm all yours."
"I hope she knows I'm counting this as her use of her champion reward." Sarah complained. "Stealing away the hunk from all of us."
