Playing with Forever

Chapter 7: Abby's Room

The next week, Coach Wilson assigned us a partner project that required us to make a poster outside of class. Sam and I decided to do it together, and arranged to work on it at my house. I could have done it myself, but Sam insisted on helping.

After volleyball practice, Sam and I met up at Walmart to get a poster board. It was Birdie's day off, so she'd already picked up Nate so I was off the hook after school. When at the store, Sam drifted off to find snacks while I went to the school supplies. He returned with a box of Hostess donuts. He was a big eater, I'd realized. All day long he snuck food in class. He'd already pulled a donut out of the package and was snacking on it right there in the middle of the store.

"I'm going to pay for it," he said through a mouthful when he saw my incredulous look.

Snacks in hand, we went to check out. I planned on buying the posterboard—it was only a few dollars, and I didn't want to assume Sam would pay just because he was rich. At least, I thought he was rich. He wore nice clothes and shoes, and had an expensive white sports car. When he was checking out with his donuts, however, he waved me over and added the poster to his bill. I hesitated, but he pointed out that we were going to be using my art supplies at my house, and so I didn't protest as he scanned it.

Sam followed me in said expensive white car as I drove home. Nate was watching a cartoon while Birdie bustled in the kitchen. I quickly introduced Sam and Birdie before turning my attention to the project.

"I've got supplies in my bedroom," I told Sam, heading back there, not thinking. Sam followed me wordlessly. It didn't catch up to me until it was too late—I froze just outside the open door. Shoot. I didn't want Sam to see my room.

But he had already peeked in through the doorway. "This is where you live?"

Dang it. That was what I was trying to avoid. "Um, yeah," I replied slowly.

"Where is your bed?"

"I sleep on the futon."

"Where is all your stuff?" he asked, peering into the short plastic bookcase that I used to hold my few items of clothes since the room had no closet.

I sighed, because I knew I couldn't lie. If a fib wasn't completely necessary, then I wasn't a liar. "This is it," I said, trying not to sound as bashful as I felt.

Sam did a quick survey. A small box sat on the floor, filled with my meager supply of drugstore makeup and some library books. Two pairs of thrifted shoes sat on the ground by my bed. The windows were bare. The walls were empty aside from a cheap mirror leaning in the corner and a few drawings I'd done. Nate had also gifted me a few art projects to tack up by the mirror.

Sam turned and looked at me, concern and sadness in his expression. I begged him with my own not to say anything. He shook his head and turned around, visibly stewing.

As he continued to survey my room, he caught sight of the black and white lump laying on a blanket in the corner. "Oh," he said. "Un chat!"

He strode over towards my cat and crouched down. His shirt rode up his back as he crouched, revealing a strip of olive skin. Muscles corded his back. Feeling a flush on my chest, I dragged my eyes away towards my cat instead of his skin. I cleared my throat and said, "This Lizzie Bennett."

Sam looked over his shoulder at me. "An Austin fan, are you?"

I smiled and shrugged. Sam grinned back, then turned back to Lizzie. "You are such a beautiful girl," he crooned, letting her smell his fingers. After an initial sniff, she stood, stretched her old bones, then laid back down with her back to him. "Oh," he sighed, disappointed.