I woke up in the morning, I almost thought I was a dream until I got up and saw my mom's note that she left saying that she knew that I snuck out last night and then I was going to be in big trouble when she got home from work.
I sighed and crumpled up the note and threw it into the garbage. So he did kiss me. Yeah... that happened. I Clutched my phone before pressing typing in his number and calling him.
I could've just walked over across the street and knocked on the door. But that involved looking him face-to-face, and I was not prepared for that whatsoever.
"Morning." He groggily said.
"What did you mean by fate?"
"What?"
"Remember? Last night when you said that it was fate that we were in the closet, at the party, playing the game?"
"Uh- yeah. I remember."
"What did you mean by fate?" I repeated my original question.
"Just come over for breakfast crazy lady. I'm making pancakes for the bros. Come over. Don't be a loser." He hung up. I looked at the phone before huffing and stomping to my room to change.
He somehow always convinced me to do things by making fun of me—But in the most minuscule way. He was just call me a loser, a dumb ass, a pussy—and then I would do anything. Like go over to his house the morning after he kissed me.
Does he even remember?
I stayed in my pajamas, put my hair put up in a ponytail and marched over there and knocked on the door. Josh open it and rubbed his eyes.
"Hey Neighbor! How's your morning?" He smiled, a small gap in his teeth.
"Fine, all good. Sam invited me over for pancakes?"
"Come on in," he held open the door, stepping to the side. I walked in and wiped off my bare feet on the welcome mat.
"He's cooking right now, chocolate chip, blueberry, or plane?"
"Plane for now."
"Sammy! She wants plane!" He yelled to the kitchen. Jake was setting up the table and glared at Josh.
"Shut up, you're so loud." He placed a mug of coffee down.
"Whatever crabby pants." Josh ran upstairs.
I walked into the kitchen, my bare feet slowly pressing down onto the linoleum tile that's blade over the dining room in the kitchen. Sam had his back to me, facing the stove as he flipped some pancakes.
"Morning," I muttered. His head spun around and he smiled at me.
"Good morning, how'd you sleep?"
"Not good, I couldn't sleep."
He furrows his brows and went back to tending the food, "Why is that?"
I glance around and saw Jake and Josh weren't around at the moment. I walked closer to him and whispered, "What do you mean? Isn't it obvious?"
"No?"
"So...we aren't going to talk about it?"
His jaw tightened, "No, we aren't. I was fucked up, I shouldn't have done that."
"You did. And we need to talk about it," I crossed my arms. He sighed and slapped two plane pancakes on a white plate and held it out, "Syrup is on the table."
I slowly grabbed it, pretty much in disbelief. How could he completely skip over the subject? I could feel my blood start to boil, the irritation slowly building. He acted, and now he won't speak on it, brilliant.
I scoff and walked to an open chair, dropping the plate onto the wooden table top. I grabbed a fork that was set out and cut off a chuck.
Josh hobbled down the stairs and grabbed a plate and sat next to me. The Kiszka's were always people who knew how to read others minds. I mean— not actual superpowers or anything— but they were good at reading people, understanding them.
Josh glanced my way as I slowly Adaway at the pancake.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Fine."
"You lie." He furrowed his brows and quite aggressively snatch the chunk of pancake off of the fork he was holding.
I smiled, "I'm fine."
"I don't believe you. You aren't a good at lying." Josh scarfs down his food while I picked at mine.
"Maybe ask your brother?" I suggested.
Josh looked through the kitchen at Sam, "What's the matter with Neighbor Girl, Sam?"
Sam glanced at me, "Do you actually want me to be honest?"
"Whatever-" I roll my eyes.
"Yes." Josh insisted, "I must know all of the drama that overwhelms my brother—and his friend, who is basically a sister."
"We kissed." Sam mumbled.
"SAM!" I shove myself out of my seat.
Josh slowly smiled and looked back and forth between the two of us, "That's cute. Totally sensed the sexual tension coming to a head." He waved his hands around, "Saw it coming, saw it coming."
"Why are you yelling?" Sam snapped.
"You don't just fucking tell people that!"
Josh pointed a finger at me, "Language."
Sam turned off the stove and said, "You didn't say I couldn't— so it's your fault for not being clear with your consent on the matter."
I gritted my teeth, "Fuck you."
"Language." Josh added in.
"Shut up!" Both Sam and I shout.
The rest of the summer me and Sam had completely avoided the topic of the kiss. It was as if it never happened. I tried not to think about it, but when I would I would get flustered.
I wondered why he did it if he so obviously didn't like me. Because if he did he would've broken up with Stephanie and tried to date me. Or something of like that...which he didn't do.
It was the first day of junior year, I cut my hair, change my style a little, Sam grow his hair even longer, and dressed in more of a 70s look...which I didn't mind because he pulled it off.
James and I never talked sense. Steph is still dating Sam, calling him bae and sucking his face as much as she can in front of me...like I care.
Carly and I aren't really friends anymore, I heard she's trying to get with James again. Not surprising son she's kind of a slut.
It was September, The summer tried to hold onto it's warm days as the fall creeps in through the mornings and the nights, putting a chill through the air. I zipped up my hoodie over top of my shirt and ran out to Sam's car across the street. There really was no point in me having my own car since me and Sam went everywhere together.
But, what did it matter?
I threw my backpack in the back seat and huff. He looked at me and smiled, "Morning."
"Morning." I rubbed my arms," It's kinda cold out there."
"Eh, I can't really tell if I'm being honest." He pulled out of the drive way.
"How was the anniversary dinner?"
Sam rolled his eyes and turned the corner, "We had an argument about how much I was willing to spend on her for special occasions. When she damn well knows I'm broke because my job hasn't given me a raise in two years. Which is highly needed."
"Seems like you think well of yourself."
"I'm the best waiter you'll ever meet. I get hella tips. Tips the other waiters and waitresses dream about. Last night I got a one-hundred tip from this sweet old man who complemented my bow tie."
"One-hundred! That's a lot are you sure he's not trying to pimp you out?"
"No, this man was a business man. And I work at a fancy ass restaurant anyway."
"You sure?"
He hesitated before he spoke, "Now that you say that I think he was wearing leopard print."
I giggled, "He thought you were pretty enough to pimp out."
"Doesn't matter. The point is, I'm the best guy they got, I'm scheduled the most every single week. Yet I get paid the least. Everybody makes four bucks an hour well I make two. That's not fair."
I shrugged, "Maybe it's to make it more fair for the people getting paid more? Since you get amazing tips?"
"That's just dumb."
"Is it?"
"Yes." He pulled into school and then got out, "Right back to this hell hole, that summer couldn't have gone any faster."
"I feel like the older we get the faster they go...don't you think?" I reached around to the back seats and grabbed my backpack.
"Yeah, next year we will be seniors—that's fucked up." He got out and slung his backpack over his shoulder.
"I though you would be picking up Steph, but you didn't."
"Yeah. I didn't feel like it." He locked the car—it's headlights blinked twice before shutting off.
"She's going to be mad at you." We walked in together. Sam didn't respond, he just tucked his hair behind his ears and walked beside me.
The day was boring, it was mostly introductory, class and student wise. Which I never really saw the point of. I have it going to school with all of these kids since middle school. There is no point, I knew everything about them that I needed to know.
Evan LeBlont was a bit in my Chem class, he was an easy going person—super annoying. He tapped my shoulder.
"Yo, what's up?" He asked.
I glanced behind me, Evan sat backwards in the blue, plastic chair just a table behind me.
"Hey Evan."
"You free tonight?"
"I'm...no, I'm not." I lied
"What's got you held up?"
"I just am hanging out with Sam."
"You can do that any time...wait Sam who?" He furrowed his brows.
"Kiszka...and I can but these plans were set in stone a few weeks ago."
"Okay, hope ya have a good time," he smacked the back of his chair and got up.