18: The Hope On His Breath

"Chloe, what is wrong with you?" Sam just stepped right past me, staring at the couch where Chloe sat. Turned out that I was right about one of those names, but I wasn't even satisfied to find that out.

"Nothing is wrong with me, he's the one who was all freaked out for no damn reason." She snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest. I was shocked by how easy the words came to her lips. Chloe was definitely more like Jocelyn than I predicted, because she somehow managed to sound exactly like her in that moment.

"Throwing yourself at guys isn't going to get you anywhere." Sam was more pissed off than I was, or at least, more open about his anger. I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to do or say. Thinking about the feeling of her breath on my neck, then her unwanted lips on my cheek, caused another shudder to crawl up my spine. "You can't just expect that every guy wants you to do that."

She seemed frustrated by his words, shrugging her shoulders. "I didn't know he wouldn't want that. I've never met a guy who didn't."

"You've never met a guy who admitted it." Watching them go back and forth caused my eyes to flit between the two. The more I did so, the more I noticed how similar in appearance they were. The same waves in their hair, Sam's only a bit brighter. The same sharp jawline and hooded eyes. My brow furrowed.

The music was too loud, and every few seconds it seemed that someone accidentally bumped into either Sam or me. Chloe just kept to her spot on the couch, annoyed eyes gazing up at us. "You don't have to be such a dick about it."

"I think I do, you never take a damn hint." He was getting more upset by the second. There was clearly some deep-seeded rage burning inside of him like a steadily growing wildfire. I could sense the history between them, though I wasn't sure what. All I knew was that they looked too similar for it to be a coincidence.

"It's not like he told me to stop."

"You didn't give him a chance!"

"What are you so heated about anyway?" Chloe stood up, looking pointedly at him. "You know I think he's hot, and I know you hate him, so what's it matter? Since when do you care about Sawyer?"

"Since we've had this conversation before!" His knuckles turned white as he clutched at nothing. I felt like I was starting to impede on an argument not meant for my ears. "You're not entitled to everything you want in life, people most of all."

"Here we go again." She huffed, placing a hand on her hip and casting her eyes to the side.

"Here we go again? Are you serious—"

His words ended abruptly as I lightly tapped his arm. He looked at me with worry hidden behind his anger. "I'm going to get some air." I told him. Not only did I feel like I was listening to an argument not meant for my ears, but I also felt a bit like I was going to suffocate in the heat of everyone around us.

"Okay. The front will be less crowded." He nodded. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away.

At least he didn't think that I wanted Chloe to kiss me, because that would have been a whole other problem to add to the list. When I finally reached the front door through the growing crowd of drunk people, I pushed my way outside.

It was an instant relief to feel the cold air on my face. The sky was pitch black, hiding the stars protectively away behind thick hoards of darkness. I was glad though, because it would have been even colder otherwise. As far as I could see, there was only a group of three people standing way off to the right side of the yard as they talked animatedly.

I walked off of the porch and turned to the left. It was empty over there, so I went around the thick bushes that were probably filled with flowers during the spring and summer. Once they came to an end, I found a cozy spot in the grass against the house to take a seat out of everyone's view. The music was a distant hum from where I was, and I closed my eyes.

There was a lot on my mind, but that seemed to be my new normal. Before all of this began, the most I had to worry about was my awful math grade or small talk with my parents. How did everything go so wrong so quickly? Druggies, a trial period between me and the boy I've always loathed, secrets kept from my best friend, nearly losing my life, stalkers. I was able to add a deranged girl who had some form of a crush on me. She also seemed to have some history that only made it worse, and I wondered what Sam was saying to her after I left.

Why wasn't he with Jocelyn, anyway? Was he looking for me? Or perhaps he was looking for her. Whatever it was, he probably found what he was seeking, even if it wasn't in the state he expected.

What was going on with us, anyway? We weren't supposed to be into each other in the first place, but it was only growing more difficult to justify staying away from him. And that pissed me off more than anything. I hated not being able to control my life, and especially my feelings. I never realized how much easier it was to not feel anything for anyone rather than deal with what I was at the moment.

But that was when I opened my eyes. I saw a certain someone looking around the yard in search of me.

He turned his head and our eyes met, and I knew then that I was absolutely fucked. It was difficult to get used to his affection. To how bold he could be. I could easily be bold if it meant that I was fighting or arguing with him. But I could not say the same when it came to returning his affection. However, that was the moment I became sure that I genuinely liked him. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise.

Sam was too beautiful. He was too loyal and thoughtful, and it frustrated me to have to accept all of those things as true. When he began to walk towards me, I realized that I was glad to be near him.

He took a seat in the grass beside me. "I'm sorry about her. No one ever tells Chloe no."

"Are you guys related?" I asked.

"Cousins. She's the family that Joss is close to, if you remember me saying that."

I just nodded. It was a relief to be sat beside him again, just as much as it was a relief to be out of that stifling house. There were a lot of questions buried inside of me that I didn't speak that night. About what sort of things she couldn't hear no to, or what Sam said to her after I left.

Instead, I looked up at the blank sky and asked, "If there were no druggies watching our every move, would you be proud to tell people about me?"

He didn't say anything, and I was too nervous to bring my eyes to him. However, I could feel his impending gaze upon the side of my face. It only made me more worried about what he was going to say, and why I even had the balls to ask something like that. What was I doing?

Then I felt his hand on my arm and I used all of my willpower to force my eyes to his. It took only a moment for his lips to find mine in the dark. I guessed he didn't really have to say anything, because I could feel the truth on his sure lips. The promise on his tongue. The hope on his breath.

The way he kissed me was so much easier to melt into. It was a form of affection that felt effortless and simple. I didn't have to think or hesitate or relax. It just seemed to come naturally to the both of us, and it made me forget all of my doubts and worries.

When the kiss came to an end, he didn't pull away entirely. He instead found that same spot on my cheek where Chloe's lips had been only minutes before. His breath warmed me, and I found that I was actually a bit relieved when his lips pressed to that spot.

Finally he was done claiming me, putting enough room between us to allow me to properly breathe.

"I've liked you ever since I first saw you, sugar." He reminded me, and I wondered what compelled him to feel that way. My lack of style? My intellectual struggles? My asthma? "I would tell the whole damn world if we weren't at risk of instant death."

"Yeah, but we're both guys." I frowned. "Isn't the risk of instant death synonymous?"

"Your pessimism will only make me want you more." He tilted his head at me and forced some seriousness into his expression. "I don't know what it's like to be out and in a queer relationship. I wish that I could tell you that it will all be okay and no one will ever look down on us for it, but I can't. All I can say is that the people who don't care are the ones that should matter the most. Besides, I don't think Millie's the type to care."

"She's joked about us before." I told him.

He quirked a brow. "What do you mean?"

"She's made enemies to lovers jokes about us, since I never date and we're always arguing." I explained.

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he started to laugh, first only quietly before it gradually got louder. Sam was soon gripping his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. I just watched, because I didn't find it nearly as funny as he did. But I supposed that it was nice to see him happy.

"Maybe we were destined to be together." He finally managed after calming down and wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Or maybe Millie is just smarter than both of us."

"Rather than just disagreeing with everything I say, there's a far more effective method to make me shut up."

"Do you ever run out of flirtatious lines?"

"Not even when I'm dead."

I knew he was only joking when he said that, but I hated the way he easily spoke the words despite the situation we were in. Wasn't he worried that his words could end up being true? I wanted to scold him for his callousness, but the words failed before they even made it to my lips.

Instead, I mustered up all the surety I could. "You're not going to die."

"Sawyer, everyone dies." He replied.

"I'm supposed to be the pessimistic one, so don't you suddenly take my one defining personality trait." I said. "Everyone dies but we're not even eighteen yet. You're not dying anytime soon, so there's no reason to bring it up."

"You know, I thought that I finally understood death when my grandfather passed." His voice was low and distant as he looked at his hands.

"You thought?"

"Yeah." He replied. "It was sophomore year. Do you remember when I missed almost a full month of school?"

Once he brought it up, I did vaguely recall what he was talking about. At the time it felt like the best few weeks of my life, because no one went out of their way to harass me. Now I felt guilty, nodding.

"I kept telling myself that it was a nightmare, and soon he was going to be right back where he was supposed to be. I tried to convince myself that death wasn't even real, and he never left in the first place. But every time I heard my mom crying, I knew that I was being stupid and selfish. I could barely will myself out of bed most days."

"I'm sorry." I mumbled.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, he was old and it was inevitable." He sighed, looking at me. "I guess I forgot how sudden it all was. The way that he was here one moment, then gone the next. There was so much I still wanted to ask or tell him. It always felt like I had more time until I suddenly didn't."

"What matters is that you loved him."

"I know." He smiled. "When Drake had you in his arms like that, I remembered again. I remembered how fleeting life was."

"Drake?"

"That big man who tried to kill you. They call him Drake. I don't know if it's his name or not, it's the most I know."

"It's starting to sound like you're about to confess your love for me." I joked.

Sam laughed. "Don't tempt me."

I couldn't tell if he was being serious when he said that, but it was enough to have my cheeks flushed. Sam was my biggest fear. He knew what he wanted far better than I did, and he felt things too deeply. I couldn't match his fervor even if I tried.

"Jokes aside, thank you, Sawyer."

I furrowed my brow. "For what?"

"Giving me a chance. I know it's not easy for you."

"Is it that obvious?" I was hoping he wouldn't actually answer that.

But it was Sam, so of course he did. "You tense whenever I touch you. As though you are counting the seconds until I back away."

"Damn, that makes me sound horrible."

"But you still try to match my tempo, and it shows just how much care you are putting into giving this a proper shot. I don't know why intimacy scares you so much, but I haven't exactly made it any easier." Then he wiggled his eyebrows. "And I would like to note that you never tense when I kiss you."

"Alright, alright." I lightly elbowed him. "That's enough. We should probably head back, I'm sure people are wondering where you are."

His head found my shoulder, where he comfortably rested it. "Just a little while longer, okay?"

I didn't have to say anything, because it was implied that I would let it happen. Sam was right, I feared intimacy. And just like him, I really had no idea why. Maybe I was worried that I would give bits of myself to someone who wouldn't return the sentiment. Or maybe it was the pessimism buried inside of myself, always reminding me that it would only end in flames.

Whatever it was, I wanted to conquer it. Not for Sam, but for myself. Even if things didn't work out with the boy leaning on my shoulder, there was going to be someone who might fit perfectly with me. At least, I hoped so.

For the time being, I let the briefest of terrifying thoughts grace my mind.

It would be nice if it ended up being Sam.

•O•O•