Fifteen

Not even really caring about class starting, I run after Sammy as fast as my legs can take me.

"Sammy, wait!" I yell as she turns a corner. She runs faster in response, and jumps into the nearest women's restroom.

I stand outside, not wanting to cause a scene and possibly get in trouble for violating Title IX. Instead, I knock on the door.

"Sammy, can we talk? Please?" I beg.

"Go away."

"You can't stay in there forever," I tell her sternly.

"Try me," she says, clearly through tears.

To make matters weirder, a girl, likely a freshman, walks over to try to enter the bathroom. As soon as she notices me knocking and yelling, she turns around and keeps walking in the other direction. Oops.

"Listen, I just want to talk. I want to explain it to you," I tell her, desperate.

She opens the door very suddenly, and I double backwards.

"What is there to explain? You not only lied to me, but you started dating the guy I obviously liked?" she confronts me angrily.

I go silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry. I was scared to tell you that I'm gay. And I started liking Austin out of nowhere. I didn't do it just to spite you, Sammy."

"Tell me, what day did this start?" she asks, crossing her arms. I look at the ground, not really wanting to respond.

"Listen, it doesn't--"

"No, tell me when it started," she insists, annoyed.

I sigh. "It was the day you told him you liked him."

"Unbelievable," she says, storming off.

Is it really so bad that I started dating the guy I love?

I head back to class after her, and stay silent the whole time. It's a total repeat of last month, as if I hadn't gone through enough stress with her.

The whole way home, I couldn't stop thinking. I was torn; I should be able to be with Austin, he doesn't belong to anyone else. But the timing did suck.

If I put myself in her shoes, I know I'd be just as upset. If I asked Austin out that day, he said no, and Sammy swooped in and took him, I'm not sure I'd ever recover. I can't imagine the way she feels.

As soon as I get to my room, I start brainstorming. I close the door behind me, pull out all the art supplies I can, and try to use as much of my puny brain as possible. I work tirelessly, until I can't work anymore.

It's complete.

"Dylan, I don't want to talk to you," Sammy says sternly after picking up her phone. She had no choice, she left me to go on voicemail at least five times before that.

"Sammy, I want to make it up to you. Can I come pick you up?" I ask, pleadingly.

She sighs deeply. "You're the last person I want to see right now."

I frown. "I know. I want to make things better."

"Whatever, but it doesn't mean I'm going to forgive you."

"I understand."

I instantly drive over to her house, and wait for her to come outside. She gets in the car willingly, but glares out the passenger window the entire time.

I don't bother to start any conversation with her in the car. I knew it'd be hopeless to try. So, I continue driving.

Once I park, she looks at me, a little confused.

"Why are we at this park?"

"Come here, follow me."

*

Sammy and I head out on a field trip with the rest of our art class. They ended up deciding on this park in town, holding some beautiful waterfalls, streams, and ponds. The late March breeze hits us, but the pretty scene helps us stay distracted enough from it.

"Have you ever been here?" Sammy asks me as the group follows our teacher down a trail.

I shake my head. "I wish, this is a pretty nice place."

We all stroll down as a group, heading to where the water pools at the bottom. Sammy and I stick to our own little pair, while the other cliques talk amongst themselves.

All year, of course, Sammy's been having to deal with Rachel, an ex-friend of hers, being in the same class. Back in eighth grade, about a year ago, the two of them had an extremely rough fight, and neither have recovered since then. Since then, Rachel's picked up a new group of friends, spending time with the more popular art girls.

They hadn't gotten into any kind of confrontation up to this point. Merely passive aggressive maneuvers and bitter glances.

Today, that track record changed.

Once the teacher had us split off to find different sceneries to sketch, she went off with a group of students, leaving Sammy and I to explore where we were. What we didn't realize, however, was that Rachel was close by.

Sammy points out a small creek and squats down to feel the water. Out of nowhere, Rachel pushes her forward, making her fall into the stream.

"Hey, what's your problem!" I yell as I lend my hand to Sammy. She takes it, and gets back up. Her shirt got all wet, and ended up dropping her notebook in the water.

"Sorry you can't take a joke, loser," Rachel laughs, walking away.

"Are you okay?" I ask Sammy, trying to help her reorganize her stuff.

She gives me a light smile. "Yeah. Thank you for helping me up."

"I wouldn't leave you hanging."

*

I lead Sammy down to the same creek that Rachel pushed her in nearly two years ago. She looks at me and glares a little.

"What, are you gonna push me in? Is that why you brought me here?" she jabs.

Instead of saying anything, I hand her a piece of paper. She looks at it, her facial expression transforming.

"Wow... is this supposed to be me?" she asks, softer. I nod.

Before I left, I finished a sketch of her that I'd been working on back in January for an assignment. Though I abandoned it then, I knew I had to finish it and follow through.

I depicted her with beautiful, flowing hair, adorned by a flower crown. Though I didn't have time to add any color, I made sure to present her the way I saw her: beautiful, strong, and happy.

"I thought you ditched this back at the beginning of the semester," she says, staring at the page.

"I wanted to finish it. I want you to see how you look, not how you think you look," I tell her.

"I don't look this pretty, you're buttering me up," she says, laughing gently. I shake my head.

"Sammy, I know you're gorgeous, and I'm not even attracted to girls. The reason, I think, that I wanted to date you, was because I love you so dearly. But just platonically."

She smiles, but then goes back to frowning not long after. "Then why'd you do all this to me? Why'd you swoop in like that? Do you not care about me?"

"Sam, of course I do. Austin called me over, not the other way around. I didn't time it that way on purpose, I promise," I admit.

She furrows her eyebrows. "So, Austin totally brushed me off for you."

I look at the ground, figuring out the words to say. "Listen, Austin didn't mean anything by it either. He realized he didn't want to risk anyone else's feelings because he was too scared to admit his sexuality. That includes you."

"You're just saying that."

"No. He told me he was mad at himself for leading you on, and for hurting anyone's feelings."

Sammy sighs and sits down on a rock. "I need time to process this situation. I don't know if we can go back to normal yet, Dylan. I'm mad, and I'm upset."

I pat her on the shoulder. "Take as much time as you need. But know that I'll be right here when you need me."

"Thank you."