Because You're Different ✔

60. Raspberry

Sam

My raw, red fingers snatched the corner of the page and turned it, almost tearing the paper in the process. I never liked Tom Bombadillo's song; it was half-witted, childish bullshit. A waste of space. Especially considering these books already had around five-hundred pages. Imagine having written a story like this one, with so many words. Being that famous that people were still reading it almost a century later. It'd been our goal once, June's and mine, to become like Tolkien or Rowling, have our own faces grinning at us from the back of a cover.

Or maybe it'd been my goal. I wasn't sure. The only thing I remembered was reading a lot more before I met her, and writing and drawing more too. But she'd always been better at putting her thoughts down on paper, so at some point, it felt useless to make up my own stuff, because it'd never be as good as hers anyway. Yeah, Nathan would've taken a look at my stories if I'd asked him to, and he would've given me some well thought out lawyer compliment. It wouldn't have meant a thing. He would've never been as curious about my writing as he was about hers. Guess I now knew why.

I skipped a few more pages, determined to get past that dipshit of a Bombadillo guy. I should've never given up on wanting to be an author just because my brother was more impressed with her skills. I might've been published already if I hadn't. Ha! Picture that. Me, in my own villa, somewhere in Europe, a pretty girl by my side to help me when I was stuck with my story. Mm... Why did that girl look like —

"Hayley, what the hell?"

That bouncy chick appeared out of nowhere to take a picture of me, flash and all, and was now giggling at her phone screen like she was watching an episode of Friends. I'd never understood why she was so obsessed with that show, but she found it amazingly funny. Let me tell you, I'd sat through half a season with her, hoping it'd stop her whining about how I had to try it, and if it hadn't been for her laughing all the time, I would've fallen asleep.

"Sorry, I just had to," she said, flopping down on the couch beside me. She started typing away on her phone, which probably meant I was going to be in her Snapchat story for the day, and that girl had a ton of followers. Exactly what I needed... Not. She flashed me a broad smile, one that annoyed me and calmed me down at the same time. "Why are you reading..." she pushed up the beaten cover, squinting her eyes, "Lord of the Rings? Better yet, why are you even reading?"

What? Wasn't I allowed to read just because that was June's thing? I threw the book aside. If only I had texted her the whole birthday was off, she wouldn't have been here right now, disturbing my peace. "I read. I like to read. You have seen me read before. I'm actually good at reading."

Her mouth fell slightly open, and she cocked her head, as if I'd suddenly transformed into a Hobbit. "Well, good job, little man," she said sweetly, patting my shoulder. "You want a sticker for that?"

"Oh, shut up." I shoved her away from me, something I instantly regretted. It was better to have her close. She smelled like a flower, or a few together, and it was nice. Made me forget my dickhead of a brother for a second, in a way even Frodo hadn't managed to do.

"What? No smart come-back?" The smile disappeared from her face. She seized my wrist, trying to get my attention, and to my frustration, it worked. "Sam, are you okay?" A gasp. "What happened to your hands?" Blue eyes widened as she traced my reddened skin — she really should stop doing that. It was incredibly distracting, and I was trying to be angry.

I jerked back my arm. "That hurts." I immediately regretted it, more so when she rolled her eyes at me. "I cleaned the whole kitchen. June had made a mess of it."

"More than usual?"

Definitely. If only she knew... This was something that couldn't be cleaned up with a drop of detergent and a cloth. The stain would be there forever. "Yeah, you wouldn't even believe it."