The Creeping

Sam’s bedroom brings on a deluge of memories. It’s almost exactly as I remember: walls painted in forest green, with the silhouettes of pine trees in brown; his twin bed draped in a navy comforter with white piping along its edges; two nightstands stacked precariously with books; and a giant bulletin board above his desk, covered in photos, pictures of cars from magazines, and band logos. It used to display photos of us; now I’m not in any of them. I inch closer to see who is: a group of boys on a camping trip; a mousy brunette sitting on his lap grinning at the camera; a bunch of girls and boys in matching yellow T-shirts huddled in a pyramid; a perky blonde in a low-cut tank top with her arms wrapped around Sam’s waist. I don’t recognize a single person in any of them. It makes me feel left out; ridiculous since he’s the one who should feel that way.

I prop my hands on my hips and try to imitate Zoey’s purr and honeyed smile. “Well, I guess now you wouldn’t need me to pull you in for a kiss, since it looks like you’ve had loads of experience.” Sam fills the doorway, where he’s leaning watching me. “Who are these sluts?” Inwardly I cringe at saying “slut.” Zoey says it a lot, but only because she tries to own the word. You know, take it back from all the people who put girls who like sex down? I use it in the bad way. I’m instantly ashamed.

“Who are you talking about?” Sam asks.

I flick my hand toward the bulletin board, completely aware of what a wicked witch I’m being. “Is Anna what’s-her-face up here?” I ask. Just thinking it makes me want to rip the pictures down. Nice to meet you, jealousy. I seriously need to get a grip. I shouldn’t even be here. Who am I kidding? Zoey will lose her shit over today. And how is this fair to Sam? Once this nightmare is over, we’ll go back to the way we were. I’m Stella Cambren; he’s Sam Worth.

Sam’s jaw tightens as he stares at me. There’s no trace of the glint in his eye or the smirk that guys get when trying to make you jealous. He actually looks . . . angry.

“Stella, you’ve had nothing to do with me for five years. For five years I’ve tried to show you that I care about you, and you’ve shot me down every single time. I’ve made friends. Was I supposed to wait for you just in case you changed your mind?” He shrugs with his hands. “I went out with other girls. Don’t call any of them that word. Better yet,” he adds, steady and low, “don’t use it at all.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. I’m a monster making Sam explain anything to me after I deserted him. What did I expect? That Sam wouldn’t be able to make friends? That there would never be a girl who saw what ten-year-old me saw that day at the cove? And why do I care anyway? Why do I feel like the girls on the bulletin board stole something vital from me, when really, I threw it away?

I drop to the edge of his bed, covering my face with my hands. I wish I could make my awfulness disappear. Why can’t Sam just get it? I didn’t choose him. He was supposed to hate me, not spend the last five years proving that I chose wrong. Proving that even though I threw him away, he would never ever do the same to me. Believe me, I get it.

Sam drops to his knees at my feet. “It’s okay. It’s been an insane couple of days.” He pats me lightly on the knee and then withdraws his hand.

I wallow in the darkness of my palms. “I don’t know who any of those people are. I only guessed who your friends were at the bonfire because of how they were dressed. I don’t know if you have a girlfriend . . . or if she’s the girl you left with the other night.” Jealousy threatens to choke me as I inhale. “I used to know everything about you. With my eyes closed, I could pick your footsteps out during silent reading whenever you got up from your desk, and I’d ask for a bathroom pass and we’d talk out in the halls.” I stare at him. Only Zoey’s face is more familiar than Sam’s.

Sam knits his brow and rocks back on his heels. “I might not always like you, but I could never hate you.” I try to blink away the tears; they’re too fat. Sam jumps to his feet and taps a photo on the bulletin board.