Fearless (The Story of Samantha Smith #1) (41 page)

“No.”

He skimmed my jawline with gentle fingers, then kissed me on the lips.

“I hate to kiss and run, but my grandpa still needs help.”

I couldn’t hide my pout. This was the first private moment we’d had all night. Some Thanksgiving. I rolled my eyes at myself. I was being such a baby. “Okay. How late are you going to be?”

“At least till one a.m. The caterers stay until then. I may have to stay later.”

“Really?” I whined.

“Sorry, Samantha. It’s a tradition.”

“Okay,” I sighed.

He kissed me again. “All right, I’ll see you later. I’ll be around here somewhere.”

He walked off, and I was alone again.

I wandered the party for another hour or two. I saw Tiffany hanging on Brandon. He did his best to keep her wandering hands off, but she was insistent. I actually felt bad for him. I remembered what Brandon had said at the gallery about the relationship between his family and Tiffany’s, and his commitment to not getting involved with her. Poor guy. Tiffany exuded desperation and was unrelenting with her grabby hands. I don’t know why. I’m sure she could find some available guys somewhere. She was more than beautiful enough. Maybe she had worked through all the eligible bachelors already, like Christos had said.

The party was still crowded, and I really didn’t know anybody that I wanted to talk to. My buzz had worn off by that point, and I didn’t feel like drinking anymore. That was when the loneliness really set in.

I remembered how intimate things had been at Madison’s house. Their loving energy was unbelievable. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t exciting. It was grounded and connected. This huge party was chaotic and noisy and disconnected. I was hoping to spend Thanksgiving evening with Christos and his grandfather and maybe a few other people. This seemed like a big social event.

Then I remembered the phone call with my parents. That was the complete opposite of this. Too quiet. Too cold. Too nothing. I’d always dreaded Thanksgiving at my parents’ because it was so exquisitely uncomfortable for no apparent reason.

Now that I had a bit of perspective, I could draw distinctions. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that just like The Three Bears, one was too hot (Christos’ extravaganza dinner party), the other was too cold (my parents’ house), and one (Madison’s family), was just right.

Was I still in the wrong place?

Was I in some honeymoon phase with Christos? As we spent more time together, would I discover that he was too busy with family commitments and social gatherings like this? Too busy to make time for me?

Was his grandiose talk of my art career and selling paintings at galleries pulling me into a world I didn’t want? A world that was the direct opposite of my family’s, but equally bad?

No, that couldn’t be true. Christos was devoted to me. We spent more and more time together, and it was mostly just the two of us. I couldn’t imagine a better boyfriend.

And the way he handled Brandon’s advances? Because it was pretty damn obvious Brandon was trying to snake charm a kiss out of me. Christos had caught him. But Christos was so easy-going about it. So unlike Damian.
 

Christos always managed to do the right thing by me. Christos was as close to perfect as I could possibly imagine. He had been so honest with me about everything. He had told me about his mom and dad and his deepest, most private pain.
 

I was the one with the problems. Because I was still lying to him. I held back the worst part of myself because it was too awful to share. Christos would hate me if he knew the truth.

The truth about Taylor.

Sadness and loathing swept over me. I was disgusted with myself. Christos was laying his heart bare to me and I was holding back. I didn’t deserve him.

I didn’t deserve anybody.

I made my way to the front door. I needed to go home and be alone and sort things out.

I heard Christos call my name as I dashed out the front door. He was trapped behind the crowd of revelers. I ran to my car and drove home before he could stop me.

I didn’t want him to find out how horrible I was.

Taylor.

For the remainder of the Thanksgiving weekend, I avoided my apartment and Christos. I searched online for the location of the biggest mall in San Diego, and hit it up when the sun rose.

It was easy to get lost in the insanity of the Black Friday shopping madness. I was distracted from my pain and inner turmoil by the rush of greedy gift buyers.

Despite the whipping activity that surrounded me at the mall, it wasn’t enough to completely quell my need for a fix.

I bought a huge Cinnabon on Friday and indulged in the warm, sugary goodness by myself. It was only a temporary reprieve from my shame and guilt over lying to Christos.

Christos texted and called me a thousand times or more. I couldn’t blame him. I was blocking him out for no obvious reason. He probably wondered why we weren’t enjoying the long weekend together.

But I couldn’t explain it to him. It wouldn’t make any sense if I tried. Because I wouldn’t be telling him the whole truth. I’d be covering up the story of Taylor with a fabrication of weak excuses. Christos deserved better than that.
 

He deserved someone better than
me
.

When I went home that night, I tried to study, but it was impossible. I went to bed early.

Someone knocked on my door around eleven. It had to have been Christos. Madison was still in Huntington Beach at her parents’, and Romeo and Kamiko were both out of town.

The knock came again. I remained in bed, in the darkness, alone.

“Samantha? Are you home?
Agápi mou
?”

He must’ve known I was home. My car was parked outside.

I felt terrible for ignoring him. I dug my face into my pillow and sobbed until he stopped calling for me and went away.
 

I couldn’t decide if I felt worse because I was blowing him off, or better because I was setting him free.

Chapter 23

Saturday was almost a repeat performance of Friday. Shopping all day at a different mall, dragging myself home in the late afternoon to attempt studying, and to eat some ice cream. Ice cream had become my go-to food group in the last two days.

There was a note taped to my door from Christos. It read:

“Please call me, Samantha. I love you. Christos.”

I felt like total shit reading it. I folded it carefully and tucked it inside my sketchbook in the apartment.

I couldn’t focus on my books and notes. I was going to screw up my grades on finals if I couldn’t concentrate.

I considered going to the Main Library on campus, thinking perhaps the public environment would force me to study, but I knew it would be abandoned for the remainder of the weekend. I suspected my sense of loneliness would be amplified while in that public emptiness, so I stayed home. It was much easier to tolerate my loneliness while in the privacy of my apartment, close to my ice cream.

I woke up early Sunday morning. I showered and dressed quickly, intent on more shopping. Something told me Christos might stop by. If he came looking for me again, I didn’t want to be in my apartment.

I grabbed my car keys and opened my front door. I almost tripped on the lump on my doorstep.

Christos lay there under a blanket. He looked frozen. His ice blue eyes peered up at me. “Samantha, what happened?”

“How long have you been here?” I choked out the words.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came by around four-thirty this morning. Your car was still here. So I went home and got a blanket and came back.”

“You look like you’re freezing.”

“Somewhat.”

“Come inside, you idiot. It may be San Diego, but it’s not that warm, silly.”

He stood up and stretched a kink in his back. His spine popped in about twenty places.
 

“You’ve been there for almost four hours?”

“Yeah.”

I made him hot tea and pulled a blanket off my bed.
 

He sat on the couch, swaddled up, sipping tea. “I wanted to say goodbye to you Thursday night, but you left before I could stop you.”

“Uh, yeah,” I said guiltily.

“I was going to tell you to crash in my bedroom upstairs.”

“You were?”

“Yeah. It was crazy on Thursday. Worse than most years. Me and grandpa were slammed. We bribed the caterers to stay later. Paid them double overtime to help out.”

“Wow, that’s huge.”

“I think it’s due to my gallery show. All of a sudden I’m a somebody. The Manos family lineage continues. All that shit.”

“You’re family sure seems blessed.”

“I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use. Definitely don’t use it around my dad.” He sipped his tea. “So what happened to you? I tried calling and texting, but you never answered. I was worried something was wrong.”

I sighed heavily. “Yeah. That. How to explain.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t hold it against you. I love you, Samantha,
agápi mou.
”

Shit, he wasn’t making this easy. I’d been thinking about what to say for two days. I knew it would eventually come to this. Looking into his eyes, everything I’d planned to say now seemed wrong. But I didn’t know how else to put it. He was waiting for an answer.

“Christos, you and I are heading in two very different directions. Your career is already in the stratosphere. I’ve got student loans to worry about, and no matter what you say about how talented I am, I can see that I’m nowhere close to where real artists are at. I’ve taken on a lot of debt, my parents are spending their savings to help pay for my college, and I can’t let them down. I can’t keep focusing on the art when I know it’s not going to pay my bills until way down the road, if ever. I need to focus on what’s right for me now.”

Christos looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “What about your talent? And the mentoring?”

“Maybe I have talent, maybe not. Even you said I have to develop it. I don’t know if I have the time to do my art and an accounting major.”

“Of course you do,” he smiled.

“It may seem that way to you. You can take time off from school at a whim. Your family has tons of money. Mine doesn’t. I need to focus on getting through school as fast as possible, so I can find a job and settle down. Then maybe I can find someone and have a family.”
 

I sighed deeply, realizing how much my words matched my parents’ philosophies. They would be so carefully proud of me.

I thought about Madison, and what her family had. Her parents were totally middle class. But unlike my family, hers had the love that I was missing.
 

Life and love weren’t about tons of money and achieving the Manos family’s stellar level of success. Christos had said it himself: the money had torn his mother and father apart. I didn’t want that happening to me and him. I needed to stop things before circumstances turned our love into hate five or ten years from now. It was the safest path for us both.
 

I didn’t want to risk
ever
hurting Christos. He’d been through enough already, and I wouldn’t chance adding more pain into his life. Not when he still didn’t know the real me.

Taylor.

No need dragging him into my shit.

“I’m totally confused,” Christos said, frowning. “This doesn’t sound like you, Samantha. I feel like I’m talking to a totally different person than the one I’ve gotten to know over the last several months.”

That’s because he didn’t know the truth. He didn’t know the real me at all.

Taylor.

Christos knew someone else. He knew my facade.

He shook his head. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Yes.” My hair hung around my face in a curtain. I couldn’t look him in the eyes.

He put his hand on my wrist. “Samantha, look at me,
agápi mou.
”

Why did he have to keep saying that? I peered up at him from beneath my lowered brow. I could barely face him.

His face tensed and struggled with emotion. “I get it, Samantha. I understand what’s going on. It’s like my parents. You don’t want it happening to us. I get it. You’re afraid.” His tears were flowing now.
 

Shit, he was right about that.

“Samantha, you have my heart. I’m not afraid to love you. I won’t let fear of getting hurt stop me from taking a risk on you. I will throw away all the money and success if it means keeping us together. I couldn’t live with myself if my career pushed you away. I’ll never let that happen to us,
agápi mou.
”

I was crying now too. He was breaking down my resistance. How could I argue with what he’d just said? I couldn’t. But I didn’t have to.
 

Because of Taylor.

Christos’ face opened in total vulnerability. He took my hands in his. “Can you be fearless too, Samantha? Can you take a chance on me?”

I so wanted to. I wanted to believe his career wouldn’t get in the way. I wanted to believe I could become an artist too. Maybe we could have some little house somewhere, and paint for the rest of our lives, raising a family, without all the bags of money and celebrity obligations.

I was crying hard. Christos hugged me tightly, whispering warmly into my ear.

“I love you, Samantha. I love you.”

But he didn’t, because he didn’t know me. I was a fucking liar!

Taylor.

I don’t know how I managed to extract myself from that moment. I think I made some vague promises to Christos that we would talk about it more. I told him I needed to study for finals, which he respected.

The next three weeks consisted of very little Christos and lots of ice cream and studying. I was miserable.
 

Madison knew something was wrong with me, and kept prying, but I wasn’t telling her the truth either. I knew how to hide it quite well. I told her I was stressed about finals, my parents, etc. She bought it. I laid the same line of bullshit on Romeo and Kamiko.

Now I was lying to everyone. My parents, as usual. My best friends, who deserved better. And the man I loved, who had given me his heart.