Fearless (The Story of Samantha Smith #1) (42 page)

All I could give them were lies.

But wasn’t that how I’d lived for nearly three years?

Somehow, I managed to make it to finals week without exploding from ice cream overdose. I didn’t have anymore mentoring sessions with Christos. I told him I was too busy, and apologized about the kids at the library. Luckily, they took a break from lessons for most of December, so I missed only one weekend. I felt terrible for them. How many people could I manage to let down altogether? The list was growing.

The final exam for Life Drawing consisted of Professor Childress giving everyone detailed evaluations of our most recent work during office hours. He encouraged me again to consider a double major in art and accounting, or at the very least, a minor in art.

I wasn’t sure how either would go over with my parents. I dreaded bringing up the topic with them over winter break.

On Wednesday of finals week, I sped through my Fundamentals of Accounting exam. It was so easy. I knew I had aced it. My parents would pat me on the back when they saw my grades.

I waited for Madison to finish before turning in my booklet, so we could walk out together.

“How’d you do?” I asked her after we walked up the stairs of the lecture hall and went outside.

“Okay, I think. I’m hoping for an A, but I can’t say for sure. You tore it up. I saw you whip through the questions.”

“Yeah,” I said with no sense of accomplishment.

“Want some lunch?”

“Okay.”

We walked outside the building that contained our lecture hall and onto the cement pathway.

Christos leaned against a tree on the opposite side, waiting.

Madison looked at me. “Rain check on lunch?”

“Uh, I guess?”

“You should talk to him, Sam. I know he’s been all whacked since Thanksgiving. Jake told me Christos is miserable.”

“Jake knows?” I whined.

“Of course. Jake and Christos are totally close. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Shit,” I hissed.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Sam, but something doesn’t add up. You and Christos are perfect for each other.” She looked at me, waiting for a response. “What’s really going on?”

I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t tell anyone.

“Whatever it is, Sam, I don’t need to know. But Christos does. You
have
to talk to him. I’ll see you later.” She walked off, leaving me stranded, twenty feet away from Christos.

I couldn’t bring myself to cross the chasm between us. Because fucking Taylor held me back.

Christos broke the barrier, walking despondently toward me, stopping a few feet away. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I felt like a shitheel douche prick-stick to the asshat power.

“I miss you, Samantha.”

He wasn’t saying agápi mou anymore. I didn’t know whether to feel relief or loss. Who was I kidding? It was deep, painful, agonizing loss.

“I’m dying inside,” he said earnestly. “Having you torn away from my life is like having my skin peeled off. We crossed a line a few weeks ago, you and I. I dropped all my defenses for the first time in forever, maybe for the first time ever. I was living life honestly, giving my true self to the world. No bullshit, no facades.”

His face quivered with intense, barely-restrained emotion. But he wasn’t letting it stop him from pouring it all out. “Samantha, when you dropped out on me, I was in so much pain, I can’t begin to describe it. It’s like you had become my armor. You protected that vulnerable person I had allowed myself to become from the sharp edges of the world. I knew I could put my old armor back on, my old habits. But I didn’t want to. I still want what we had. I want to live freely, open to the world. I don’t want to hide afraid behind protected, dishonest behavior. I want you, Samantha. I love you, and I want the love I know you have for me. Above all else, that’s what I want.”

Why was it that all I could notice while this man poured his heart out to me was the fact that groups of students were passing by, possibly listening in on what he was saying to me without fear of judgement?

Because I was a fucking liar, and he epitomized fearless honesty.

I turned on my heel and walked away from him.

“Samantha?” He followed close behind. “I’m not giving up on you. I need you, and only you. I will wait for you,
agápi mou
.”

I started to run. I was crying. I needed to get away.

Taylor.

I ran into the first women’s restroom I could find and locked myself in a stall. I bawled for a long, long time. I’m sure whoever came into the restroom heard me crying. I didn’t care, as long as I didn’t have to look anyone in the eye.

When I finally went outside, Christos was gone.

Possibly forever.

That evening, I packed my bags before bed and showered. I had a six a.m. flight the next morning back home to D.C., care of the Ronald Reagan Airport. I called Madison to confirm she could still drive me, even though it was butt fuck early. She said of course.

I slept like crap that night. No surprise there.

In the morning, when Madison texted me she was outside, I grabbed my bags and locked up my apartment. It was dark outside.

I didn’t see her car anywhere.

A ’68 Camaro pulled into the parking lot.
 

Christos.

Madison was a traitor.

I got another text from Madison.

Is he there yet?

I texted her back furiously.

Treason is punishable by death. Where r u?

Snuggled under my covers

Get over here, now!

U better go with Christos. U don’t want to miss ur flight. C u after winter break! Luv you!

I would begin concocting murder plans for Madison over break. There would be no evidence of her demise.

Christos got out of his car and leaned against it, arms folded. “Need a ride?” He wore a leather motorcycle jacket, boots, and jeans. He was so damn sexy. Damn him. His hair was disheveled and he had the perfect amount of sexy stubble to make me swoon. I wasn’t letting him get away with blatant manipulation.

“No, I can drive myself.”

“You don’t want to park at the airport. It costs a bundle.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Let me drive you. I mean, we’re still friends, right?”

I took a deep breath, released it. “Fine. But I’m only letting you drive me because were friends. How long did you and Madison plan this?”

“She called me last night. Jake gave her my number.”

“That bitch, I knew she was a conniver.”

He chuckled. He walked up the stairs and took my bags. “I’ll carry those for you.”

I followed him down the stairs and waited while he put them in the trunk.

He opened my door for me.

“Thank you, Christos.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed my door for me, climbed into the driver’s seat, and we drove off.

We barely talked on the twenty minute trip to the airport. There was zero traffic on the freeway at four-thirty.

When we got to the airport, he turned into the parking structure.
 

“Why are you parking? You could just drop me off.” That’s what my parents usually did.

“I always hate it when people do that. It’s nice to have someone you know walk you to security and wave you off.”

I couldn’t disagree, not that I knew from experience. But it sounded good.

He found a space and we walked to the terminal. According to the monitors, my flight was on time.

“Which airport are you going to?” he asked as he scanned the monitor.

“Ronald Reagan.”

“Which airline?”

“United.”

“Looks like you’re on time then.”

 
I only had carry-on bags, so we walked to security.

“Well, thanks,” I said. “I should get through security.” The line was short, but I was uncomfortable. I braced for some sort of desperate, last minute plea.

“Okay. Have a safe trip.” He smiled and walked away.

That was odd. Whatever. It was probably for the best.

Security took about five minutes to get through. I bought a muffin and a coffee on the other side. I sipped my brew and nibbled on my muffin until my flight boarded.

I had a seat near the back, next to the window. An old woman took the aisle seat. There was an empty seat between us.
 

“Good morning,” she said. “What’s your name?” She was way too peppy for the hour and her age.

“I’m Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Gladys. I hate flying this early, but my son lives on the east coast. I’d rather arrive when it’s still light out.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Are you going to see your parents for Christmas?”

“Yes.”

“I bet they’re looking forward to seeing you. They’ll give you a big hug and smoother you with kisses when you get there, won’t they?”

She had no idea. How about a handshake and curbside pick up? I flashed her a fake smile. Gladys was going to make this a long flight.

“Is this seat taken?”

“Christos!” I almost hit my head on the overhead compartment when I jumped.

He flashed his grin at Gladys. “Do you mind if I squeeze in?”

“Not at all, young man.” Gladys unbuckled and stood up, allowing Christos to squeeze between us.

He plopped into the seat. “Hi.”

I looked around desperately for a flight attendant. But what was I going to do? Christos held a ticket in his hand.
 

“Passengers, please take your seats,” a female flight attendant said over the loudspeaker. “We are now fully boarded and preparing for takeoff. Please fasten your safety belts and make sure your tray tables are in the upright and locked position. Please follow along while we walk you through our safety procedures.”

Shit. I was stuck.

Christos buckled in and grinned at me.

“Did you just buy that ticket?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he grinned.

“Geez, how much did it cost?”

“It was only four hundred bucks for a one-way. That’s almost the normal price. I think they were trying to fill the flight. It’s pretty empty.”

“What about your car?”

“I’ll leave it in parking.”

“Aren’t you in short term? How much is that going to cost?”

“I don’t know. A few hundred bucks?”

“You can’t do that! You shouldn’t be here, Christos!”

“Why not?”

“Because…because, you can’t fly home with me!”

“Who said anything about flying home? I told you my mom lived in New York. Maybe I’m going to visit her.”

“But we’re flying to D.C.!”

“So? I’ll rent a car with a GPS and drive to Manhattan. It’ll be an adventure.”

“Jesus, Christos. You’re crazy.”

“Nope. Fearless.”
 

“I think they’re the same thing.”

“Maybe they are.” He smiled.

Christos and I spent the flight talking. It couldn’t be avoided. It was better than having Gladys remind me of how much I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my parents. They were the last people I wanted to bawl my eyes out to about everything that had happened. I was looking forward to two weeks of quiet, solitary misery. I knew how to do that just fine.

I’d have to wait until I parted ways with Christos in D.C. He managed to include Gladys in many of our conversations, and it turned out she was pretty funny. Despite my best effort, I always had fun with Christos around, no matter how hard I tried not to.

When the plane landed, Christos and I disembarked together. The cold air seeped into the airplane before we were on the jetway. I had already forgotten how cold D.C. was in the winter. While we waited for the passengers ahead of us to disembark, I put on my heavy coat and a wool cap.

I knew my parents would be waiting at the curb outside baggage claim, so I went that way. When we got to the rental car counters, Christos didn’t stop.
 

“Aren’t you going to rent a car?” I asked.

“Do you think I should?”

“What do you mean? I thought you were going to see your mom.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Ahh, yeah. About that.”

“Were you not actually planning on going to New York?”

“Maybe not.”

I was shocked. Had he flown across the country with me on a whim, totally unprepared, simply to be with me? He was a lunatic! “You’re not even dressed for the east coast! It’s freezing outside.”

He examined my winter-wear outfit. “You look really cute with that cap on your head,” he said.

“Christos! This is so not right. You can’t come to my parents house!” Why was I saying that? I was just playing into his game. How did he get away with this behavior? It wasn’t going to work on me. Nope, no way.

“I can get a hotel. Close to where you live.”

“No!”

“Come on,
agápi mou.
”

“Don’t say that.” But I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to tell me it over and over again, every day for the rest of my life. I wanted a 24/7 soundtrack of him saying that to me in his perfectly accented Greek.

“I love you, Samantha.”

Crap, that wasn’t fair.

“Sam?” It was my mom.
 

I turned around.

“Your father told me to come look for you. I thought maybe you’d forgotten about waiting for us at the curb. He told me you didn’t forget things like that, so something must’ve been wrong.”

“Hi,” Christos waved at her sheepishly.

“Who’s this,” my mom asked, confused.

“This is Christos.”

Christos offered his hand and my mom shook it warily. “I’m Linda Smith. Pleased to meet you.” She was
so
totally confused.

“He’s my friend.”

“From school?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh!” Relief washed over my mom. “You go to SDU?”

“Yeah.”

“You look a little old for college.”

“I’m in the graduate program.”

“Oh. Do you live in D.C.?” Mom was still completely lost.

“No. My mom lives in New York. I thought I’d fly in with Samantha for fun. Drive to New York.”

“The roads are terrible. Didn’t Sam tell you?”

“Probably, but I thought it would be fun anyway,” Christos smiled.

“Uh, all right, it was nice meeting you, Christos. Sam? Are you ready to go?”