Not for my anxiety; I knowI wasn't to blame for that.But I never really considered how muchit all affected Chip.
"Shit, Rory.You act like…like you thought your own friends just up and forgot about you.AndI don't mean Lacey and those hags.I mean your real friends.Theguys you'd known since kindergarten.Us."
"I'm sorry," Imurmur.
"No, Rory girl.I'msorry.I thought youneeded distance, so I gave it to you.I thought you'd call me whenyou were ready.But I never should've let it drag on so long.Ishould have found a way to get in touch."
"I should have calledyou."I know I wasn't ready before, but at least since I startedtalking to Michelle again, I should have tried to call Chip.AndNick and Perry too.
Chip sighs."Well, we'retalkin' now.That's what matters, I guess.But just know, we werealways thinkin' of you.We never forgave the people who hurt you."His lip twists up into a small, wry smile."Not even when Emmersput her hand on my crotch out by the lake and whispered that hermouth would feel even better."
My eyes widen and my lastsip of soda spits out with my laughter."You didn't cave for ablowjob?Well that's real loyalty right there."
His smirk grows."My willpower has gotten much stronger I'll have you know."
"God I'd have loved to seeher face," I admit.
"Well, it looked a littlesomethin' like this."He drops his mouth open and sets his featuresinto indignant shock, batting his eyelashesdramatically.
I giggleuncontrollably.
"Then she told me I didn'tknow what I was missin'."
"And what'd yousay?"
He sighs, his face growingsomber once again."I told her I did.That I was missin' my twobest friends.Not head from some skank who helped run one of 'emoff."
I blink at him for a fullminute before I get up from my chair and wrap my arms around hissurprisingly broad shoulders.Chip hugs me backfiercely.
****
Therest of the evening isexponentially lighter.With all of the unsaid between us nowfinally said, I actually feel like I have my old friendback.
Eventually we call it anight and make plans to meet outside the courthouse at 8:45 thenext morning.
Sam isn't in his suitewhen I get upstairs.He isn't in my room either.My heart plummets.I try calling him, but his cell goes straight to voicemail.But I'mnot worried, just disappointed.Because I know he's probablywalking the beach clearing his head.And I know it's because ofme.
I'm the reason he's hereright now, testifying and lying on a witness stand.Listening to metestify about the horrors of that night.
All of his friends are backhome, partying, celebrating.Yesterday was the last day of school,Monday is his Athletics Awards dinner, Saturday is our senior Prom,and next Tuesday graduation.These are the things that should be onhis mind.Not this.
But there's no help forit.We fell in love.And good or bad, Sam is going to be there forme, I know it, even if he wasn't a witness himself.
I take a long shower,trying to wash away the day, trying to remove the image of Robin'sglare, the memory of my father's accusations.
I slip on a camisole andthe boxers I stole from Sam on our first night of spring break, andgo lay down on the balcony in a chaise lounge.Even though Samisn't here with me, it feels like he is.I can feel his support,his love.
I'm tired from the longday and from not sleeping last night, and so I let my eyes closefor a little while as I wait for him to return from hiswalk.
I must fall asleep becausemy hair is dry by the time I become aware of his scent, of hisstrong arms slipping beneath my knees and back and carrying me tohis bed.I don't even open my tired eyes, I just cling to him as heslips into bed beside me, and let myself drift off.In my barelyconscious state I'm only vaguely aware of his whisperedreassurances, promising me everything is going to be okay.I don'tknow if it's because I'm half asleep, or if seeing my old friendhas affected me, or even if it's just Sam's love finally caressingits way into my psyche, but for the first time, I'm actuallystarting to believe him.
Chapter Nineteen
"Sam."
I sit on the edge of thebed, trying to coax him awake.Sam's midnight blues lazily blinkopen to find me leaning over him, my hair hanging around my facelike a curtain.He is beautiful when he sleeps.His lashes—too longfor a guy, especially one with his rugged features—fan out over hischeeks, accentuating his sculpted bone structure.He's almostangelic, and I'd rather sit here on the bed and watch him sleepthan disturb him.For a moment I forget why I even have to wakehim.
He brings his hand up andthreads his fingers through the hair at my nape pulling me down fora long, slow kiss.
