The Mistake

Beneath

Nick

"Get out of my room!" She screamed at me after her mom had left. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding when I heard her like that. She sounded normal and annoyed or frustrated as always when she was around me. The fragileness and softness of her voice from the other night was gone, and I felt relieved knowing she wasn't close to breaking. I didn't know how to handle that kind of thing, much less someone like her.

"I'm not in your room." I said, gesturing to her bedroom's open door, which I was currently behind. Her eyes narrowed at me and she walked closer menacingly. "Woah there, Sammi. Your mom let me in, remember?"

"Why are you even here, Nick?" Her words were higher and angrier, possibly to hide the tremor in her voice.

"Well, if you'd actually let me in your room, I could show you."

She got closer then, debating with herself over what she should do. "Wait in the kitchen. You're not coming in my room."

"Wait for what?" I asked as she slammed the door on my face without answering. Click. The door locked reassuringly and I walked away with a sigh.

After five minutes, Sam walked out of her room with her hair loose and a sweater on. Frowning, I looked down at my shirt. It was almost too hot to have even that on.

My eyes flickered to her scraped cheek unvoluntarily, but her hair covered mostly all of it, except for a few scratches peeking out. It had healed better than I thought. Or maybe after so many times I replayed that night, the scratches on her face seemed to become rougher and deeper in my mind. I wondered what made up story she had woven for her mom, because she sure as hell didn't know the truth.

"We failed the history assignment." I threw the papers in my hand over the counter before she could ask why I was here.

Sam was confused, and knitted her eyebrows together. "What?" She said as she rummaged through the strewn papers. "But it had everything she asked for and-"

"Apparently, you and I pissing each other off all the time was not a good combination when writing an assignment." I reminded her and sat down on one of the kitchen's chairs. The mortified look on her face was almost laughable, but I reassured her. "Relax, Ms. Torres said she would give all the teams who failed a chance to get their grades up. An extra assignment."

She gave me a weird look and shifted uncomfortably. "That's why you came here so late?"

"It's a quarter to eleven. That's hardly late." I reminded her. "Besides, you haven't gone to school in two days and the deadline is the day after tomorrow." Her gaze lowered down to the gleaming white floor, her hair covering up most of her face now. It wasn't hard to figure out why she had missed school, and she knew that.

"Okay," she said after a few seconds of silence. "I'll go to school tomorrow. We can work on it there. But it's late now." Her voice became harder with each word, and the look in her eyes told me she didn't want me here anymore.

I drummed my fingers on the table and countered her stare with one of my own. I peeled back and walked away. "See you tomorrow, Sammi."

Even though I had my back to Sam as I stalked off, I could feel her stare. I could only imagine what passed through her mind when she looked at me. Judgement, hatred, fear. Well, it wasn't like I didn't deserve it. I let out a sigh and opened the car door.