Chapter Eight

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The car came to a stop at a parking meter which was next to a three story building, the majority of it made out of glass, but the part that was not was painted bright white. Sam came around to my side of the car and opened my door.

"Thank you." I laughed, getting my bearings on the uneven concrete sidewalk.

This time I lead the way into the building, opening up the set of glass doors which had the words 'Los Angeles Contemporary Art Museum' written on it. Sam pointed to a pad of paper which lay on the front desk. We strode over to the white, slightly oblong table where Sam signed us both in. We followed the path on the floor, which was marked with patterned arrows that pointed in the direction to go. There was a path that lead to the Elevator and one which was pointing to the stairs.

"Let's go for the stairs." He said as he grabbed my hand once again and lead me up to the second floor where artwork was scattered randomly throughout the room. "The coffee shop is on the top floor, so we need to go through all the floors to get there." Sam whined.

"That's okay, we can take funny pictures with the art and have a good ole' time." I smiled cheekily.

Sam just intertwined out fingers as a small smile crept onto his face. "You're so cute."

My cheeks felt as if someone opened the door to an oven and the hot air was blowing onto my face and butterflies appeared in my stomach, so I tried to face away as much as I could from Sam.

I felt his hand squeeze tighter on mine, "Are you blushing? Aww!"

I shoved my hands against his arms and pushed him away, attempting to make a pouty face but failing because of an unstoppable smile which slowly curved the edges of my mouth more and more, until I was finally able to contain it. Sam shook his head at me, the same goofy grin plastered on his face, then began to walk through the hallways of the museum.

We didn't do much except make painfully awful jokes about the artwork, but when we were with each other, everything was funny. Finally, after almost two hours of walking through hallway after hallway and taking an endless amount of pictures, we reached the coffee shop. I took my seat at a table big enough for two that was positioned across from an inverted fountain. I watched as Sam swayed from foot to foot as he waited in line to order. He looked like a little kid as he excitedly waved to me from across the room when he caught me staring at him. I stuck my tongue out at him, shutting my eyes and scrunching my nose. I opened my eyes to him with his phone out as he took a picture of me. I rolled my eyes and faced away from him so he couldnt take anymore pictures.

A few minutes later, Sam set down two white, wide mouthed mugs down with a brownish black liquid and whipped cream. He explained that this was his favorite thing to get here because it was a mix between hotchocolate and coffee.

I took a sip and let the warmness melt down my tongue and flow into my throat, dancing on my taste buds like swirling leaves on a breezy autumn day. It reminded me of the period in between Fall and Winter where its cold enough to snow, but it never does because Mother Nature likes to save her best for last. I smiled as I used my sleeve to wipe the whipped cream off the tip of my nose.

"That is so good." I said, breathlessly.

"I know." He said before bringing his drink to his lips and taking a large gulp. I watched as he clicked his phone on and frowned, "Kate, I don't think were going to have enough time to go to a nice dinner...we can still go to the pier and get festival food though. Like Corndogs and hot dogs and burgers and-"

"Sam!" I interrupted as I held out my hand. "I get it! c'mon lets go. The sun is going to be setting soon and I don't want to miss it."

Sam smiled, took my half empty mug, and set both of them on the counter for the workers to clean up. He walked back to me with the same childish grin and slipped his hand into mine once more. The thought of Sam and I dating took over my thoughts, so much so that I couldn't even focus on what he was saying as we strolled down the stairs of the museum. I was so aware, yet not at all. I could feel every muscle in his hand move as his grip changed while we bounced down the stairs. I could feel my heart skipping beats every time he looked back at me. I could smell the mix of cologne and the scent of the coffee shop which was now mixed into the fibers of his clothes. It was something I had never felt before, so new and enjoyable. I felt a warm sensation growing inside my stomach, replacing the coffee with a swarm of butterflies, too many to count, fluttering against the sides of my stomach. I suddenly became aware that now I was the one that was grinning like a child, and wondered if this was the same way Sam had felt when he was smiling at me.

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