"You can't ignore me forever." Sam was watching me closely, clearly expecting me to say something about what happened. However, I was doing a wonderful job at pretending that things weren't definitely awkward as hell. In order to accomplish that, I just kept telling myself that I wasn't in Sam's house, sat on one side of his couch, facing the side that Sam himself occupied.

Unfortunately, that was exactly where I was.

The drive after school was painfully silent, consumed by the overwhelming feeling that we were both anticipating something. What it was, I didn't think that either of us really knew. On my end, it was probably the inevitable fight we were going to get into when I tried to explain my side. On his, it could have been anything. The jury was still out on that one.

However, it wasn't for long since Sam suddenly furrowed his brow and quietly asked, "Was it that bad?"

I groaned, looking up at the ceiling because it was easier than looking at him. "No. I don't think it was."

"You don't?" I could hear the hopefulness in his tone, and it made me even more nervous than I already was. Who knew what Sam was expecting me to say, but he was obviously relieved.

"It's complicated."

"Complicated? How so?" He sounded even more excited.

Finally, I dropped my gaze to his and sighed. "In every way imaginable. Do I even have to explain?"

"Yes." He deadpanned.

"Well, for starters, you are a boy. I am a boy. At no point did I ever think I was attracted to boys in any way. And on top of that, I hate you. Or at least I thought I hated you. I mean, we've spent all of these years pissing each other off, how is it even possible that you could still manage to be attracted to me? Are you a masochist or something?" Once I started explaining all of the reasons that I was deeply perturbed by the way things were playing out, I found that it was hard to stop. There was too much that I needed to say or else I would explode.

Sam furrowed his brow, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his palms. "What's it matter, though? If you liked the kiss, then you liked the kiss. And who cares if I'm a boy, or if we've hated each other in the past. No one says that we have to hate each other. I'm not a masochist, I just might have terrible taste."

I scoffed. "You're saying that I'm a part of that terrible taste?"

"Yes. You're one of the most dramatic and obstinate people I have ever met. But I guess I find that very endearing, because I've been wanting to kiss since the day I first saw you." Sam told me honestly.

"Are you gay? I'm not gay, at least, I don't think I am."

"No." He didn't even hesitate.

"Now I'm even more confused."

He shook his head. "I was really confused at first, but I honestly learned that I just don't care. I'm not usually attracted to boys, and I've never found another one that I've had any urge to be with. But I've definitely been attracted to you all this time."

"I don't think I've felt the same." I replied, but then I faltered slightly. Just like that, I ended up right back at the internal conflict I was grueling over nonstop. "But..."

His eyes lit up. "But what?"

"But I did like that kiss." My face went red.

Sam didn't even try to hide the grin that broke out on his face. It was a stark contrast to the otherwise ghastly display of bruises. "Then what are you so afraid of?"

"You." I answered helplessly.

His face softened. "I may have the capabilities of being an asshole, but I'm definitely nothing to be feared."

"I've never been with someone before." It was beyond embarrassing to admit something like that to my worst enemy.

"Oh."

"You weren't my first kiss or anything, but I've never been in a relationship or something like that. I don't know anything about it and I don't think this would be a good first attempt." It wasn't coming across the way I wanted to. I was mortified.

"You've been thinking about being in a relationship with me?"

I wanted to slap him. "You're missing the entire point."

"No, I think you might be." He then stood, walking to the part of the couch that I sat on. Sam took the spot beside me, watching me closely with serenity that bothered me. Why was he so calm? Didn't it bother him at all?

Who was Sam, really?

"If you liked the kiss enough to even be communicating these things to me, then I don't see what's the big hang up. I'm not going to beg you to be my boyfriend or anything, but if you're willing to try some sort of trial period then why the hell not?"

I was getting a little bit frustrated, because nothing felt easy about any of it. But he didn't even waver, just waiting patiently for my answer. "Because I don't even know the first thing about what it means to be a part of a trial period."

"It's easy. See?" He tilted his head towards me, and I looked at him. Then without further warning, he placed a palm gently against my cheek. And he leaned down to kiss me.

I flinched away from him, my heart in my throat.

He frowned. "That was going to be so romantic."

I rolled my eyes, standing up and pacing. "I think you're missing my entire point of contention."

"I think you're missing my entire point." Sam crossed his arms, eyes following me as I ran my hand through my hair and tried to sort out my thoughts.

"You said that you've liked me since you first saw me, which was three years ago. I've had a total of two days to process all of this, so cut me some slack." I sighed. Good for him that he was so immune to internal warfare, but I wasn't like him. He was popular and rich — maybe he needed to experience a little bit more ridicule in his life, because most people were more apprehensive to accept big changes.

Especially when the change had far too many potential cons.

He bit his lip. "I'm not trying to rush you, but I'm kind of dying of embarrassment and nerves in the meantime."

I stopped pacing to look at him with pure confusion in my eyes. "You're embarrassed and nervous?"

"Of course I am." He stared at me as though I was crazy. "I basically told myself that I was going to take my crush on you to the grave, because I couldn't live with the humiliation of confessing when you didn't feel the same. I mean, for fuck's sake, you can't tell me that it was ridiculous to do that when you're having your crisis over there."

I said nothing, because he made a point.

"But then when you almost suffocated to death, I realized that it was pointless to pretend to keep hating you. Because I don't know if I'm going to die, or if you're going to die, or anything like that. If you don't want to be with me then at least I found out the truth. It's better than playing this constant game."

The more he talked, the more I felt bad for him. The fact that he liked me all this time, and all I did was fight against him was a bit depressing. Sam seemed to be a very selfless person, whether or not his decisions were the smartest ones he could make. But there he was, admitting that the one thing he did for himself was return my sentiment of hatred.

"I don't think I hate you." I forced the words out, and his gaze snapped to mine.

"You don't?"

"I've been thinking about it a lot, and I don't know why you even started this whole fight in the first place, but some of the things I've done over the years are weird too." Again, the words fell out of my mouth but they weren't quite what I wanted to say. Communication was not easy. "What I mean is that I kind of know way too much about you. Like I pay attention to when you talk in class, or what you wear, or what you do with your hair—"

"My hair?" He quirked a brow.

My cheeks were beet-red. "The point is, I feel like maybe I pay too much attention to you. The second that you became distracted with those druggies, I noticed that you weren't calling to me in the halls. I think I might have even missed it. Which is as crazy as it sounds."

Sam was absolutely beaming, his eyes full of hope and light. Every word that I said only made his grin bigger. It pissed me off to find that it was kind of sweet. "I don't think it's crazy at all."

"That's because you are crazy."

"I concede." He laughed, but then his expression fell away into unease as his eyes lowered to his hands. "But I really am sorry for the way we met. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me."

"So you admit that what you did makes absolutely no sense?"

"It makes no sense to me either. I was a little bit tipsy, and I remember spotting you on those stairs. The way you looked so lonely and silent compared to the party raging around us, it fascinated me. So I watched you, and I knew right then that I wanted to know your name. Your thoughts, your dreams." For what seemed to be the first time ever, Sam's face was caressed by the warm hands of embarrassment. I was mesmerized by the new look on him. A sadistic part of me wanted to see it more often.

"Then why didn't you just go and ask me my name? Why push me?" I wasn't quite sure that his story added up.

"Honestly, Sawyer? I have no fucking idea. I blame my pure stupidity on the alcohol. I guess I was too nervous to talk to you, but then I panicked when you tried to leave." He ran his hands over his face. "I wish I just talked to you like a normal person."

"I wonder how things would have been if you had." I thought aloud.

"Do you think you would like me then?" The demanding nature of his complex hazel eyes left me lost in the possibility of a different timeline.

Maybe....

"Stand up." I told him.

He hesitated, clearly bewildered by my sudden demand. When I just waited for him to do as I said, he finally forced himself to stand. "I'm stood."

"Close your eyes." My heart was so loud it was nearly drowning out my own voice.

Once more, he followed my direction. "Eyes closed."

I could tell that he had an idea of what I was going to do, because the soft whispers of a smile kissed his lips only moments before mine did.

It was a peculiar feeling, to press my lips to another's. To feel his life in the way that he moved against me. The way he moved with me. To have my thoughts silenced and my anxiety melt away as I became engrossed in the heat of the moment.

Our lips parted, and I touched my fingers to my mouth.

"Want to do that again?" Sam not-so-slyly asked.

I huffed. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Of what?" His endless questions were starting to drive me mad.

"That I did like the kiss."

"And did you find what you were looking for, or should we try it again?" Sam was clearly teasing me, but I wasn't entirely sure how much of it was a joke.

"I found what I was looking for, I think." I admitted.

His eyes went wide as he anxiously awaited my response.

"I liked that one too." I quietly answered.

"So what does that mean?"

"I guess..." It was probably going to end in horrific flames, but maybe it would be nice for a little while. Maybe I should at least try it out and see if it was as awful as I expected. "I guess I'm willing to try."

Sam didn't even hesitate as he pulled me in for a giddy hug. "Thank you for at least trying. Thank you."

Startled by his overflowing excitement, I tried my best to ease into his touch. But it was definitely going to take me some time to get used to it. "Don't thank me yet."

"Well I did, and I meant it." He pulled back, face flushed with the heat of exhilaration as he happily and freely studied me. Yup, I was definitely never going to be used to it. "Want to watch a movie or something? You can pick it out."

There was still one last concern I needed to address, but I decided to shove it back down for a little while longer. What would become of us if the druggies found out? Did they already know about Sam's crush? Was that why they singled me out?

But when he gazed at me like a golden retriever, I knew that my final concern could wait. "Okay."

We didn't end up watching a movie, since we spent too long discussing our favorite movie genres. They were incredibly different. Apparently Sam was a massive sci-fi and fantasy geek, which was the last thing I probably ever predicted happening. That was almost more ludicrous than finding out he had a crush on me.

My favorite genres were mysteries and classics. Partially because of how much Millie loved the latter ones, but also because my mother and I used to watch old movies all the time growing up.

It was oddly nice to just be able to talk to him like that.

I wondered how long that feeling would last.

•O•O•