What about calc test?I text Sam.
I can meet you after.
But I have my therapy session at five thirty.
We pull up to the diner before I can reply, so I jog over to where Sam is getting out of Andrew's car with Tuck and Dave.
"Damn, Ror." He shrugs off his jacket and holds it over both our heads to protect us from the rain. "Don't you have a jacket or an umbrella or something?" he chides.
"No,Dad,it's just a little rain," I tease, and we both tense, aware thatdadsare a sensitive subject for both of us, and the truth is the rain is a sensitive one for me. Whatisn'ta sensitive subject for me?
Once under the awning Sam shakes out his soaked jacket and I wait for him.
"I have a doctor's appointment at five thirty. I can't miss it," I tell him.
"I gotta drive Bits at four and pick her up at five," he replies.
"Bitsis some nickname," I observe, earning a playful elbow to my side.
"Hey. I couldn't sayBethwhen she was born. I was only three. I called herBits, and what can I say? It kind of stuck. Give me a break, will ya?"
I laugh. At least it's a reasonable explanation.
"Want to meet up at like seven? You could come over for dinner. My mom will be there, andBitswould love to meet you." He pulls the door and holds it open for me.
I actually consider it. If it's a family dinner then we won't be alone. And after my freak out in the library, the fact is, Sam'shadme alone. If he wanted to do something about it, take advantage of it in some way, surely he would have already. But then, Sam has also made it abundantly clear he has no romantic or sexual interest in me - that he's only ever wanted me as a friend. I should be comforted by the fact that he isn't attracted to me. I know that.
I ignore the small pang of disappointment that tightens my chest, and remind myself that friendship is all I want, too. It's all I can handle. That’s if you call accusing him of luring me down to a pond to have exhibitionist sex, and now, of intentionally trapping me in a deserted library with nefarious intent, "handling it". For the millionth time I wonder what the hell appeals to him about a friendship with me in the first place. Maybe there's something wrong withhim.
And how fucked up is it that I'm searching for some character flaw to explain Sam wanting to be my friend?
It's utterly unfathomable that I'm actually starting to trust a guy, butI am. I also try not to dwell on the fact that if his sister would want to meet me, it means he's mentioned me. Why this pleases me, I don't know. We're friends, so it's normal if he's mentioned me in passing. I only hope it wasn't in a passing conversation about how I freaked out and more or less accused him of trying to trap and assault me. In inwardly cringe at the memory.
The truth is I'm curious about his sister. In fact, I'm curious to learn anything I can about Sam. After all, he knows more about me than anyone other than my mother and psychiatrist.
Yeah. I decide dinner at his house isn't such a bad idea.
"Okay, but you better get me ready for that test," I warn, teasingly poking him in his chest with my index finger.Damn, that's muscular.Just like the rest of him.
"Yeah?" he asks, eyes wide with both a hint of surprise and a whisper of hope.
"Yeah," I confirm, and Sam breaks out into a triumphant, lopsided grin.
It was barely over a month ago that I told him I couldn't handle being at his house even with his family there, and I know he reads the significance in the fact that I'm agreeing to do just that. He doesn't say anything more about it, though. Instead, he slings an arm casually around my shoulders as we both scan the diner for our respective groups of friends.
"There," Sam nods in the direction of the booth in which our friends have apparently decided to eat together, and leads us on.
I don't think anything of Sam's arm around me until Carl's only vaguely surreptitious look silently accuses me of a secret affair. I roll my eyes before scooting in beside her, Sam following behind me.
It's only two minutes later that Chelsea walks in with her friend Lily, and Dave calls out for them to join us.
And they do.
Chelsea slides in next to Sam, and we all scoot over to make room. Dave gets up and grabs a chair, situating it at the head of the table to make room for Lily.
Carl and Tuck flirtatiously tease each other while Chelsea chats away with Sam, careful to hoard his attention. Andrew eats with one hand so he can keep Tina tucked close with the other. Dave makes eyes at Lily, whose batting eyelashes and hair flipping over her shoulder make it obvious she's receptive to whatever he's offering. It isn't surprising; Dave is handsome like his friends, though he has the sense of humor of a perverted clown, making it difficult to take him even remotely seriously.
Suddenly I feel like the odd man out. Invisible again. And for some reason, right now, it bothers me.
