~ MEGAN'S POV ~
The morning came quickly as I walked to the kitchen, putting on the usual coffee for Sam and I. I could hear her moving around in her room along with her alarm clock that played her classic rock while she got dressed.
It had already been two days since we had been completely alone in this apartment and things were going surprisingly well. It was scary, really, because nothing involving Sam went well for long.
Oh that sounded really bitchy.
I began my morning routine as I showered and dressed, gathering my things and checking my phone for any possible texts or calls. The only thing I had was a text from Shawn saying everything was going well and asking how Sam was doing.
Nothing from Nikki.
I rolled my eyes at the thought of her, realizing Nikki wasn't the one to text and call me every day. She never was like that, especially now. She would be in town Friday, which meant that was the day she would possibly reach out to me.
But did I really want to see her? What good would come out of meeting up with her besides getting to see her flawless face one more time? And why would she want to meet up anyway?
I walked out of the room seeing Sam fixing her usual, allowing me to take her in quickly before she noticed me. She had actually dressed a little heavier today, with her long-sleeved T shirt hugging her torso in all the right places. Her jeans also hugged her legs, complimented with a pair of boots, giving her the typical Sam Carson "don't fuck with me" look.
She turned softly, sipping her mug as she looked at me, making something deep inside me shiver. She ran her hand through her soft messy blonde hair as she leaned back on the cabinet, "Morning."
I smiled at her good mood, knowing she didn't have them often if she was up before noon. I walked closer, pouring my coffee, "Morning Sam."
"Slept better last night?"
I nodded, wondering how she managed to be so cool with our situation. Maybe she was used to me being here, which was understandable, but I was still adjusting.
"Much better, what about you?"
She put her coffee cup down, "Megan, I had the weirdest fucking dream ever. I was screwing some chick on a pool table and the walls were melting, and then you walked in and like, assigned me homework. It was so weird."
I couldn't help but laugh, "I think your subconscious is calling me a cock-block."
She shrugged, "Remember that time you picked me up from Jinx for my birthday? You were a cock-block then."
I recalled the memory well, remembering how awkward and disappointed I had almost been whenever Sam had almost left with that random girl. I sighed in slight embarrassment, "Yes, I remember, I'm sorry."
She laughed, sipping her coffee as she shrugged it off, "She was pretty disappointed."
"You were too."
She nodded, "Well yea, I mean it was my birthday and my history teacher shows up in my brother's car, cock-blocks me, and then forces me to go to school the next day. Of course I was disappointed."
Now that she had put it that way I felt bad doing that to her, "I was a bit harsh."
She laughed sarcastically, "Just a tad."
I watched her eye me down like she was a expecting something else to come out of my mouth, but realized I had nothing to say. I was a little embarrassed that I had done that to her on her birthday, and how harsh I had been the morning after. What had possessed me to do that?
"So, have you heard from Nikki today?"
I looked up from my mug and into those same haunting eyes that always seemed to be glowing with curiosity. It was odd, the way she continued to bring up things about me. I shook my head, "No, why?"
She shrugged, seeming uninterested but I knew better, "Just wondering."
I raised my eyebrow then, wondering why Sam was always so curious about things involving my love life. She used to constantly ask me about my relationship with Shawn, and now that ship has sailed and it was now about Nikki.
Did she care or was she just trying to carry a conversation?
So I played her little game right back, "How was Emma after practice yesterday?"
She nearly choked on her coffee then, placing her mug on the cabinet and looking up at me. She thought I hadn't noticed yesterday when she and Emma mysteriously disappeared after the Shay incident, which I also witnessed.
She tried to play it off, "Uh, well, you know. Good."
I smiled to myself, seeing Sam nervous was actually quite funny... and kind of cute.
Oh get a grip Megan.
I continued to ask about her day at the field, "I saw your little incident with Shay, can you explain that to me?"
I had barely seen anything, just Emma pulling Sam away from Shay and dragging her off of the field and to the locker room. I was curious as to why Sam had been looking as if she was about to give Shay a good slap in the face.
Sam shook her head, "She's been staring at me and giving me these evil stares for a while, so I confronted her about it and we kind of... had it out?"
I just looked at Sam, wondering why she would snap so easily under Shay's simple stare. She was harder than that, and much more stern and concrete. There had to be something else bothering her that she wasn't letting in on.
I smiled, "I didn't pin you as a fighter."
She shrugged, "Yea well, I didn't pin you as a history teacher either."
I laughed a response, "Touché."
I thought about Sam's response to Emma, as if she had been caught doing something illegal. It was funny, how haunt she was around me when it came to talking about sex with Emma. We all knew, but why was she embarrassed over just Emma? Was it because she could possibly have feelings for her which made her feel guilty?
I was suddenly curious, and maybe a little jealous.
No, you are not jealous.
I looked at the clock, "Well, we better leave if we don't wanna be late."
Sam groaned, "Ugh."
I laughed as we locked up the apartment and walked out, preparing to part our separate ways. It was weird, how I didn't look at Sam like a student, at all. I looked at her more like an annoying roommate now, someone who managed to be a little too bitchy but also quite sexy and interesting at the same time.
Anything but a student, which was really bad.
She opened her car door, looking at me, "Wanna race to school?"
I rolled my eyes, "No Sam."
She shrugged, smirking in the process which gave her a sexy flirtatious look, "You're right, I'd whip your ass."
I laughed, dismissing her, "I'll see you in fourth, Sam."
~ ~ ~ ~
I continued putting grades into the computer during third hour, wishing this hour would end already. The students were busy working on the assignment that was due at the end of the hour and I was busy entering the few final grades of the month.
I was flipping through fourth hour's tests, entering the grades as I went until I stumbled onto Sam's. I peered down, seeing the bold red C- written in the upper right-hand corner, wishing she would've done better. She was improving, and she now held a very high D in my class, but I knew she was better than that.
She just didn't try.
I flipped to the last page of Sam's test, seeing a note written at the bottom as I read curiously.
"Dear Miss Adams, *wink,wink*, maybe you could give us an easy Bonus Question at the end on the next test so I know I'll get at least one question right? That would be pretty awesome. Sincerely, Your Favorite Student. AKA Sam."
I laughed to myself, wondering how I had missed this the first time I went over her test. I heard the bell ring then, dismissing the class as they dropped their assignments into the basket on my desk. I stood, walking to the door like I did every day to wait for my fourth hour, including Sam.
I don't know why, but the anticipation of seeing her got to me, knowing she would be rounding that corner any second. I didn't want to say I was looking forward to seeing her, because that shouldn't be true considering she's a pain in my ass. Although, something about her kind of brightened my day, I just had no idea why on earth I would feel that way.
I felt my foot tapping nervously on the floor as I leaned against the door waiting for the tardy bell to ring, which seemed to take forever.
Why was I so impatient today?
Then the bell rang and Sam hadn't rounded the corner, which meant she would be either late to class, or she was skipping. I rolled my eyes as I closed my door behind me, walking to my podium as I counted the seconds she was late.
Where was she? She knew better than to skip my class, if she was skipping at all.
I spoke, "Your assignments are on the board, it's due at the end of class. If you don't finish it's for homework."
I heard a few mumbles of disproval as I walked swiftly to my desk, attempting to resume what I had been doing but my mind was elsewhere. Where in the world was Sam? I felt myself growing annoyed as more minutes ticked by, and she was now nearly five minutes late for my class.
Then to my relief I heard her knocking on the door and I rushed over to it, feeling suddenly as if she needed a good chewing out for being late. She knew not to take advantage of me being her teacher, and if that's what she was doing I was going to have to set her straight. No pun intended.
I opened the door, seeing Sam holding a folded napkin with something inside as I slowly closed the door behind me. She looked absolutely innocent but I knew better, Sam was never innocent.
She held out the napkin to me, "Doughnut?"
I took the napkin, looking at her with a stern look, "You're not off the hook because you brought me something sweet. Where were you?"
"Wanda, I uh, had to go see her for something."
I raised my eyebrow, "The counselor? Why?"
She scratched the back of her head, shrugging, "Um, I kind of displayed a bit of aggression in my third hour?"
I sighed heavily, not even wanting to know what happened anymore. I spoke, "Sam, really?"
"Look, he touched me first and you know I don't like random ass guys touching me. He should've known better."
I opened my door, "Well, you're finishing this assignment today, even if it means staying after class. You should've gotten a tardy slip."
She groaned, walking inside and taking her place at her desk, allowing me to watch her curiously. Sam hadn't been aggressive in any way since I had met her, not until now, which was worrying me. Why was she all of a sudden growing short tempered and trying to beat everyone's ass? Was there something stressing her out?
I resumed grading as I listened to the clock tick, allowing my mind to blank out as I tried to get something done today. I felt my eyes twitching to look up at Sam, and I glanced seeing her working on her assignment. She flipped through her book quickly, as if she wanted to finish this assignment before the class ended.
I should threaten to make her stay after more often.
I wasn't going to tell her she could finish it for homework because I knew she wouldn't, like the rest of the class. I hadn't seen her do homework once since I've met her, and I knew that wasn't going to change.
And she needed the grades desperately.
The hour passed quickly and soon the bell was ringing, and to the looks of it Sam was packing up. Had she really finished the assignment in only one class period?
She stood, slinging her booksack over her shoulder as she readied to walk out, but not before I called her back.
"Sam?"
She looked at me, rolling her eyes and mumbling something to herself as she walked over to me. She leaned on the desk, smiling fakely, "Miss Adams."
"Did you finish your assignment?"
She looked into my eyes, as if trying to convince me she wasn't lying when she answered, "Well yea?"
I held out my hand, "Let me see it."
"No."
"Why not?"
She huffed, "Why do I have to stay after class and finish? It's not fair."
I smiled, "Because I know you're not gonna finish it at home. Sit and finish."
She groaned as she pulled a desk closer to mine, retrieving her incomplete work and beginning on it again. I watched her as she struggled with a question, probably the one that had prevented her from finishing.
I questioned, "Need help?"
"No."
"You look like you do."
She looked up, "I can figure it out."
I answered, "The answers on page 176."
She flipped to the page while glancing up at me, reading and then finally figuring out the answer. She crossed her arms, leaning forward, "Can I ask you why you helped me cheat?"
I shrugged, "It's not cheating, I'm helping. And besides, you were never going to get it because you refuse to read the material. Skimming won't help in my class."
She rolled her eyes, "Megan, if you wouldn't be my perfect, hot-teacher fantasy, I would hate you as my teacher."
I laughed to myself, "Flattering. So the only reason you don't hate me is because I'm pretty?"
She snapped her fingers, "Exactly."
I was hoping she was joking with me, because for some reason I took slight offense to this. I don't know why, but her response hadn't been what I had wanted to hear. But what exactly did I want to hear from Sam?
She noticed when I fell quiet, which must've made her feel slightly bad because she answered back. "Megan, I was joking."
I looked up into those familiar haunting eyes, realizing I was giving her the wrong impression, the one I should be avoiding. I sighed, redeeming myself, "Yea well, the only reason I like you is because you have a really nice coffee maker."
She laughed, "Yea, it is pretty nice."
I resumed occupying myself while Sam continued to work on her assignment, but it took me everything I had not to keep talking to her. I couldn't explain it, but I genuinely enjoyed conversations with her. Of course, I did hate when she brought up my personal life, but other things were fun to talk about with her. She was a good conversationalist for a nineteen year old.
Then again, I didn't look at her like a student, and sometimes she could act older than she really was, which didn't happen often. She was immature at most times, yes, but she could be different, and she's showed me that.
She must've felt my eyes on her then, because she spoke, "I can feel your eyes on me."
I felt myself blush then as she looked up at me, putting her pen down into her book. She smiled, which made something in me shudder, something I didn't like, at all.
I shrugged it off, "Just weird to see you actually doing work."
She leaned on her hand, looking at me, "Do I really have a choice?"
I shook my head, "No, you don't."
"You're such a dictator."
"I am not."
"Are too."
"No."
"Yes."
I rolled my eyes, "You need a little discipline in your life."
She raised her eyebrow, letting an obnoxious smirk grow on her face, "So you're into that kind of discipline, huh? Dominatrix?"
If I could've reached over and slapped her, I would've, "No, I'm not... a dominatrix, Sam."
She was nearly choking on her own laughs now, "You want to... discipline me?"
I groaned, "Shut up."
"Yes ma'am."
I stood, "Sam, seriously."
She held up her hands, "Calm down, no need to go get your whip, or whatever you use to fulfill your sexual need."
I felt my skin growing hot, wishing she wouldn't enjoy getting under my skin so much. I knew she was joking, but for some reason I didn't like her joking about sex, specifically with her. I knew I shouldn't be so serious, but for some reason it was to me.
She sighed, "Are you mad?"
"A little."
"I'm sorry, I was just messing with you."
I sat back down, attempting not to get all teachery with her because I knew she would call me bipolar. In a sense I really was with her, because I would catch myself talking to her like a normal person that I would pursue rather than a student, which she was to me. I would grow mad at myself and then take it out on her, and she didn't deserve that because I played along, and then change my mind.
So I decided to play it off like a friend, "It's okay."
She just looked at me, which worried me because she looked awfully shocked. She spoke, "Did you just forgive me like it was nothing? You never do that."
I forced a smile, nodding, "Yea, I know. I'm just trying to make this relationship more tolerable for the next month."
"Which means you're trying harder to tolerate me?"
I nodded, "Exactly."
She crossed her arms, leaning back, "Am I really that bad?"
I saw something in her change, like she was embarrassed but also ashamed of herself. It was a weird look to see on Sam, because she was awfully cocky and hard-ass most of the time, and in all actuality it made me feel bad for her.
I shook my head, "You just speak your mind, there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, you just need to try and think before you speak."
She seemed relieved at my response, which made me feel a bit better because for some reason I hated seeing Sam upset. It was scary, because she never let anyone see her sad, and when she did it was like seeing a ghost. It made you feel obligated to make her feel better because she had that effect on everyone, and she didn't even know it.
She sighed, as if she felt a little bit better with my answer, "You know, I used to be a lot worse than I am now. I used to be a real bitch, someone who fed off of getting under people's skin. I was pretty fucked up a couple years ago."
It was weird hearing this, especially now, because Sam's shell had been extremely hard to crack, and now she would randomly spill some of her personal life with me. I enjoyed hearing about her, mostly because she never really let me in all that much so it seemed to be a treat when she did.
I just found her so mysteriously interesting.
I questioned, trying to keep her talking, "Why?"
She shrugged, "My parents, obviously. They made me pretty hard really fast, especially my mom. I still believe she hates me, genuinely, just because I'm not the perfect child she wanted. I wasn't like Shawn. I wasn't straight A, valedictorian, captain of the softball team. I was too much like my dad, carefree, selfish, and a little too tomboyish. I never wore her stupid dresses or jewelry she would buy me, and I never primped myself with a lot of make-up. So she slowly began to shut me out, and when she found out I was gay... well, that was the icing on the cake. It was like I was dead to her."
Listening to her rant scared me, because she had been staring at my desk the entire time she spoke, like she was no longer here. I felt my heart clench in my chest at her last sentence, realizing she had sounded so broken speaking about her parents. I could see it was eating her alive on the inside, but I was afraid she didn't even realize how sad she was about it.
It was like she was trying so hard to bury the sadness and depression behind everything in her heart that pertained to her family.
She groaned, "I really hate how much you can get out of me."
I smiled, "I'm not judging."
She shook her head, leaning back in her seat, "Now that I've poured my heart out, kind of, you have to cough up some information too. It's only fair."
I felt my heartbeat grow slightly, immediately feeling nervous now that Sam wanted to hear something personal about me. She already knew my sister had committed suicide two years ago, and that my ex-girlfriend dumped me on the street. What else did she want to know?
I questioned, "What exactly do you want to know?"
She leaned forward, bringing her face closer to mine, "I want to know what kind of financial situation you're in."
I felt something in me grow cold, knowing she must've learned this from Shawn. She wanted to know why I was really living with her, which was something that was actually kind of important. I knew it would possibly come up eventually, I just didn't really know how to explain it to her.
I crossed my hands together, preparing to explain, "When Lacey took her life my parents were in the middle of a divorce. We weren't a very well-off family to begin with, but divorces aren't cheap. I was helping my mom pay for the lawyer and live on her own because she didn't have a job, on top of paying back my school loans and everything else. I'm in a lot of debt right now, Sam."
She stared at me wide-eyed, as if not expecting any of this. I mean, how could she? She was only nineteen, and she had no idea where I had come from.
She spoke, "How are you going to get out of it?"
I knew she was worried just by the look on her face, which flattered me, "Work my ass off and pray that a miracle happens."
She sighed, "Have you... asked Shawn?"
I shook my head, "I can't ask him for money, I'm not asking anyone for money."
"What about family?"
I laughed, thinking how useless any of them really were, "My mom's broke, my dad's barely making ends meet. The only one I could possibly reach out to is my grandfather, but my evil step-grandmother is a total bitch and won't let him give away any money."
She questioned, "Evil step-grandmother?"
"My grandma died a while back from cancer and this woman came into my grandfather's life when he was vulnerable, not to mention she's a lot younger than him. Fucking gold-digger bitch is trying to persuade my grandpa into giving her all of his will."
Sam just stared at me, as if my life wasn't a big bowl of drama to her it now was an even bigger bowl. My family life was complicated too, and she knew that now. There was a lot more going on under the surface, a lot more than just Lacey's suicide.
Sam questioned, "How much do you owe?"
I swallowed, "Twenty-thousand."
***A/N***
Hope you guys enjoyed the new POV, it was refreshing for me! Not to mention the new drama introduced thanks to Megan. Happy Reading!
-Lauryn