The Coldest Summer✓

Twelve

"Hurry up, Kiki!" Sam urges, impelling me to snap out of my state of panic.

"Just a sec," I utter while opening the door, my heart still thumping from the earlier incident and this sudden appearance of Samantha. "Um, hi," I breathe, forcing an innocent smile.

Bitch! My subconscious mutters, rolling her eyes at me, and I know she's right. It's just too uncalled for.

"What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost." Sam slips in hurriedly. "It's boring drinking alone, so here." She now reveals a champagne bottle and beams.

"Drinking? Right now?" I ask and she nods. "Why?"

"Why? Stop being a spoilsport! And why not? Do you have classes tomorrow?" Sam mocks, and I hiss with my eyes, making her laugh.

"Well, let's drink." I take a deep sigh, accepting the offer.

I probably need a drink.

"That's my girl." Sam smiles while taking her shoes off in a swift kick. "I bumped into Liam on my way here," she tells me.

My eyes widen. "Oh, and?" I ask, guilt mopping in my heart.

"He seemed happy and I wonder what could've happened to make him grin on the hall as if he'd just finished having some wild sex," Sam blurts out, followed by a huge laugh. I hold my lips sealed. "He hardly smiles so I was intrigued." She now throws a glance at me through her pretty, fake lashes.

"Um, how can I know?" I clear my throat.

What a liar!

"Oh well, he's a peculiar guy," Sam proceeds with a flush on the cheeks. "A sexy, peculiar guy. Don't you think so?" She eyes me while opening the champagne bottle.

"I'm not sure." I avoid her gaze and drop myself on the couch.

I'm terrible.

"Of course, how would you know? I'm sorry for the stupid question." Sam seems exhausted with her own mental battles, her voice filled with unspoken words that she probably wants to disclose.

The guilt begins eating me inside for the kiss I just had . . . the best one in my existence. Damn!

"He's probably in a good mood. It happens, right?" I remark, and she only shrugs.

"Well, guess who'd just called me?" Sam takes a seat, looking at her best mood already.

"Who?" My brows wrinkle together.

"Thomas O'Malley."

"The congressman you dated last year?"

"Yeah, that one," she replies. "He's going to Hawaii, and wants me to go with him."

"What makes him think you'd go? I mean, you broke up, right?" I'm not following Sam's excitement—I usually fail to do so.

"Checking possibilities?" Sam utters. "Waiting for Prince Charming is not my thing. What if they never show up?" She now drags her neck backward, facing the ceiling.

Silence becomes deafening as I contemplate our situation.

"What if they do, but find you in the wrong arms?" I copy Sam's posture.

"Well . . . " She sighs, looking distraught. Her eyes squint in confusion. "I don't know. Should I stay with my arms crossed waiting for the Prince Charming who may not even notice the princess in me?"

We both laugh.

"No, that's not my point," I say.

"So then?"