NORMAL (28 page)

Sam smiles wistfully. "What are friends for?" he replies, and I laugh.

"I knew you'd say that!" I admit, and Sam's wistful smile grows into a full-fledged grin. I'm glad the mood is lightening up. I gesture to the plate on the coffee table. "So, taste my muffin, you deserve it."

Sam's eyes widen in shock. "Oh, what Dave would do with that one," he says with a chuckle as I replay my words in my head and, once again, turn crimson on him. I push at his chest playfully, but avert my eyes, embarrassed.
I must learn to think before I speak.

Sam takes the plate and takes a healthy mouthful, downing half the muffin in one bite. "Mmm," he moans.

I love the sound. Even more than the sound of his laugh. And I watch him as he eats, positively riveted at how his adam’s apple moves up then down as he swallows, how his perfectly chiseled jaw rolls in rhythm as he chews, and
God
, how he licks the crumbs from his lips. I think of how strange it is to find such a mundane thing so fascinating.

"So," he says, when he's finished the first muffin in no more than three bites, "speaking of Dave... I wouldn't be too worried about that meeting with the dean," he says.

Well what the hell does that mean?
"What? Why not? And what on earth would it have to do with Dave?" I ask.

"Well, apparently Lily was with Chelsea yesterday..."

Yes, I know this. I was there.

"She says she had no idea what Chel was gonna do, but anyway, long story short, she told the dean it was all Chel's fault. Everything."

"Why would she do that?" I ask, skeptical.

Sam picks the plate back up and starts on the second muffin. "Well, I'd like to say she had a crisis of conscience, but more likely-"

"Dave." I cut him off. "You had Dave convince her to tell the truth."

Sam narrows his eyes at me. "Well, I may have explained to him the merits of using his influence with Lily to get her to do the right thing," he admits. He pauses. "And... Chelsea's been suspended for two weeks. So she won't be back until after break," he explains. I open my mouth to speak but he holds his hand up to stop me. "And before you try to get out of going away with us, she's not coming anymore. Her mom grounded her. Cancelled her trip."

In a flash I register my shock that Chelsea's not coming, my relief, and my shock at my relief that I can still attend a trip I wasn't sure I wanted in the first place. I also wonder how it is Sam seems to anticipate my concerns, to know what I'm thinking. I had that with Cam, but Cam's and my friendship was the product of fourteen years of being inseparable. I've only known Sam a few months, and when I met him I had walls up so thick I'd never have thought anyone would break through them.
How in the hell did we get here?

"Ror?"

"Yeah?" I realize I've been quiet for too long, but I don't know what to say.

"You'll still come... right? I mean, I want you there. It's our senior spring break. Chel won't be there, and that's her own damn fault, so you have no reason to change your mind about it," he insists. "I know you're worried about it, but you'll be fine, okay? It's going to be fun. You'll have your friends, and we'll have a blast."

"Yeah, I know I will. I do wanna come," I assure him, aware that I sound unsure, but my uncertainty has nothing to do with the trip, not now that I know Chelsea won't be there. It's Sam that has me confused, it's Sam that always has me confused these days, I realize, as I try to rally to get my feelings in check.

"I mean it, Ror." He leans into me, staring intently to emphasize his words.

I nod, but can tell he's not convinced.

"What is it you're worried about? Is it
him
? Is he still down in Florida?" he asks, and I'm momentarily stunned.

"Who?
Robin?
"
I ask, puzzled.

Sam narrows his eyes, his entire demeanor morphing in an instant, his jaw clenches and his nostrils flare. And pitiful me can only think,
he also looks adorable when he's mad.

"Is
that
his name?" he practically growls. I say nothing. "You're not still in contact with him, are you? Is he bothering you?" He's getting worked up, and I don't want him to get upset - not for me. I don't deserve any more of his defense. I shake my head emphatically.

"No, of course not. He can't anyway; I have a restraining order. But it ain't him. Linton's nowhere near Miami, anyway," I explain. "They may as well be in different states."

Sam visibly calms, but his brow furrows thoughtfully. "Do you still have feelings for him? I mean, I know these things can be complicated. My mom-"

"No, Sam. I hate him. Truly," I say slowly and carefully.

Sam scoots closer to me in an instant. "I'm not going to let him hurt you again," he vows, but I shake my head. I've heard that before. And it didn't work out well - for me or my protector.

"It ain't your job to protect me," I whisper. Sam glares at me.

I don't know if my words have angered him or what, but they're true. As much as I might wish things were different, I'm not his, and he's not mine, and we can never be more than friends. I wouldn't even know how to be with him if he did want me, Robin and his way of things is all I know, and the reality is, Sam doesn't want me anyway. Not as anything more than a friend.

"Nevertheless," he replies, equally meaningfully, "as my
friend
, I'd appreciate if you were to tell me if
Robin
does bother you again, in any way, okay?" The contempt in his voice as he says Robin's name is enough to strike fear into anyone.

I nod, never breaking eye contact. The lie comes more easily than usual for me. I need to focus not to bite my lip, but I handle it. Because I have no intention of doing this, of course. I know I've let Sam come to my rescue several times now, but I would never put him at risk by allowing him to fight
that
battle for me. Nothing good can come when teenage boys full of testosterone get all riled up in defense of someone they care about. But I also don't expect Robin would ever try to contact me again anyway, so it's a harmless lie.

"It may not be my right to protect you, Ror, but I'm going to do it anyway."

I'm pretty sure I said it wasn't his
job
to protect me, and I'm vaguely confused as to how such a burden could be referred to as a
right
. Sam rakes his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes for the shortest moment and when they open again, they've shedded their intensity. "Friends look out for each other, right?" he asks, his voice lighter.

"Right," I whisper, and Sam offers me a faint smile.
Friends.

"I got you, Pine."

April, Last year

I
haven't been sleeping. The nightmares started a couple of months ago, not long after that first night Robin decided it was time we slept together. I'd never really had bad dreams before. Not like this. I wake up in a cold sweat,
sometimes sobbing, sometimes screaming, my pillow drenched from tears. A couple of times the noise woke my mother, whom my dad has convinced that I'm just upset that Robin will be leaving for college in a few months. She consoles me by saying he'll only be an hour and a half drive away, that in a little over a year I'll join him in Gainesville.

The truth is, knowing he'll be leaving is the only thing that actually consoles me. Maybe some distance is what we need. Physical distance at least. He'll go in July for football training, and the closer we get to summer, the more possessive he becomes.

I barely see Cam. I once told myself I wouldn't stop hugging my best friend to appease my boyfriend, but now, it's just so much easier to comply with Robin's demands.

He flipped out a few weeks ago when I'd hugged Cam at school. It was the anniversary of his father's death, and I tried to explain that to Robin, but he just wasn't hearing it. He said I'd embarrassed him - that I was his girl, and that I didn't belong in another man's arms. He shouted at me, saying that if I needed a hug, that he'd give me a damned hug. Only using a lot more expletives. And then he did give me a hug. He squeezed me so tightly I couldn't breathe, and only when I'd started crying and panicking did he let go. It left bruises on my arms and rib cage. Now I only hug Cam when we're alone, which is so rare these days, but I find such solace in his arms that I find myself looking so forward to those times. I tell myself that next year Robin will be gone and everything can go back to normal.

It isn't all bad though. Robin is a doting boyfriend. Most of the time he's affectionate and even sweet. He buys me a different bouquet of flowers every Saturday before taking me out, he drives forty five minutes out of town to pick me up breakfast from my favorite bakery every Sunday.

But he also gets pissed off at me much more easily than he used to. He just loses his temper. He says he's under a lot of pressure with graduation and then football training coming up, and I get that, I really do. But a few times he grabbed me so hard that my arm bruised, and once he'd even yanked out a small clump of my hair when I'd tried to walk away from an argument until he cooled down.

Because once he cools down, he's my Robin again. He's so contrite and affectionate that I know he really is sorry. He even bought me a beautiful necklace with a white gold football shaped pendant with a small solitaire diamond. I thanked him, but told him I didn't need gifts, I just needed him not to lose control. Because when he loses control, it terrifies me. He just tells me how sorry he is and how much he loves me and that I know he'd never really hurt me. And I used to believe it, but now... I mean, he
has
hurt me.

Even that isn't the worst of it. Because at least when he pushes me around, eventually he catches himself, he apologizes, he tries to make it up to me.

What causes my nightmares is that night after Marcus's party. And the nights it's happened again since. In fact, every weekend I'd spent at the Forbes', Robin has forced himself on me at least one of the nights I stayed over. Sometimes both nights.

It's the same every time. We kiss, he tries to go further, I tell him
no
, and usually he backs off. Except on those nights. On those nights, when I tell him no, he just loses control. He pins my wrists, I fight back, I sob and plead, I beg him to stop, and he never does. And every time he forces his way inside me, I freeze. I stop fighting. Every damn time. And I still don't know why. And Robin's noticed too. He says I just like to play hard to get and I stop fighting him off when he's inside me because I like it. Because I "like it rough".

But I know I don't like it. It hurts. Every time. He keeps saying that eventually I'll start liking it more, but I think I actually hate it more and more each time.

When I freeze, I start thinking about other things. Happy things. Memories usually - It makes it go faster, I think - and the happy memories usually involve Cam. And then afterwards I feel guilty. Even though rationally I know that Robin has done something awful, thinking about another man - even if not necessarily in a romantic way - while my boyfriend "makes love" to me, as Robin calls it, is just plain wrong.

I also realized that Robin hadn't worn a condom that first night. When he didn't wear one the second time either, I eventually asked him why. He said that he's going to marry me anyway, so it doesn't matter either way. He didn't elaborate, but just the thought of getting pregnant at barely seventeen, and with Robin's baby, sent me running to my doctor for birth control pills. Thank goodness my mom understood and came with me. I didn't tell her Robin won't wear a condom, just that I wanted to be extra careful. I also didn't tell Robin I take the pills, I'm not sure how he'd react.

Now that it's spring, the weather has gotten hotter again. It'll get hotter still as summer returns. I spend all my time at school, with Robin, cheering at basketball games - the only time I really spend with the girls - or trying to sneak in time with Cam.

But Cam has noticed something is off with me. I catch him casting suspicious glances my way at school or when we're all out, and though I plaster on my fake "everything is okay" smile, Cam's a tough one to fool. At least for me. He knows me too damn well. It's like that damned wasp sting all over again.

I've all but completely stopped wearing anything but jeans, except when Robin starts to complain, and then I'll wear a dress on a day that I know we won't be alone together. I hope that if I wear skirts less frequently, people won't think that I "want it", as Robin put it. That Robin won't think that I want it. Because I don't. But today and Friday there are basketball games after school and so I have to wear my uniform.

I grab a banana for breakfast and am about to head outside to wait for Robin to drive me to school when my dad surprises me by calling me into his study. "That you, Sleepin' Beauty? Come in here a minute, will ya?"

I dutifully obey. "Yes, daddy?" I stand in the doorway.

He puts down the documents he'd been poring over and removes his reading glasses.

"Bobby mentioned that Rob invited you to go down to Gainesville with him this weekend," he says. He's right, Robin has to drive down for a kind of orientation program with the athletics department and he wanted me to spend the weekend with him there, but I told Robin that I didn't think my parents would go for it. "I think it's a good idea. I mean, you'll be goin' there in a little over a year and all you've ever seen is the football stadium. And we haven't been to a Gators game in what? Three years?"