clementine

chapter 28: Clementine is 15 years old

My mind, being the confused thing that it was, brought me to this exact moment in the history of Samantha Hall and Trevor Matthews.

It was the Winter Dance back when we were at the end of our freshman year. I have already told you what freshman year was all about – me and Trevor and me and Trevor and Trevor and me. It was all I could think or talk about.

I was fifteen. And I had finally conned gotten the boy of my dreams to ask me out.

Well, that was a few months ago at this point, and even so, my heart still jumped at the sight of him. Now it jumps for different reasons.

I was wearing a silver dress made from authentic silk, imported from somewhere for a high price that was covered by my father's ability to not come home from work. I made sure to tell Trevor what tie to wear.

However, all of my confidence and excitement seemed to spiral down the drain as soon as the doorbell rang. I had been awaiting this night for weeks, and yet, the thought of attending the dance that night had my chest shuddering to keep me conscious.

I had never been more nervous in my life. It was the most traumatic thing that I had ever experienced. How ironic. What a joke that seems, now.

Anyway, as I floated down the stairs, I watched Trevor's sparkling eyes watching me from the doorway. I could have sworn They lit up at the sight of me. Maybe it was just the sight of the dress clinging to my skin

No. I shouldn't do that to myself.

He gave me flowers, and his black hair was slicked back neatly. They were white tulips, I remember, because white tulips were a specialty in a town named and industrialised off the novelty of red tulips. My mother took pictures, and had strung up snowflakes that she and Connor had handmade for the past week.

My first dance. My first real dance, and I had the boy that I had wanted since I was eleven.

When we arrived at the high school auditorium, everything was even better than I could have ever imagined. There weren't just white streamers strung up with silver balloons, but fake snow and thrones of mock ice and beautiful, beautiful girls in dresses and boys in tux's.

Of course, none were as beautiful as us.

Sparing you all of the cheesy details, we slow danced and drank punch that was most likely spiked and laughed a lot. Nothing went wrong. Maybe the universe was saving up all of the wrong for the right moment.

And then, at the end of the night, I found myself making out with Trevor on the Matthews' living room couch with the lights turned down low. There was a sculpture of Jesus Christ that seemed to stare directly at us. Perfect, is all that I could think.

He kissed me and kissed me until we couldn't kiss anymore, so he said, "I think there are condoms in the bathroom cabinet."

I don't think that he even knew why he said that. He had this soft, thoughtful expression on his face.

I couldn't keep my gaze focused on him, because the butterflies were dancing around my stomach. "I..." My voice wouldn't work properly. "I don't think I'm ready. I'm sorry." I added the last part sincerely, but I was still unable to meet his eyes.

His calloused fingers slipped along my jaw to cup my cheek, forcing meto look at him. At the pastor's son, who had bowed his head in prayer each nightbefore dinner. He was smiling gently when he said, "It's okay, Sam." I believedhim. "I can wait."