Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

THE BOARDERS: 47

Lo

Sam stays in the hospital for six whole weeks before the doctors finally determine he's ready to go home. Which is great for everyone involved, because Sam's been itching to leave the hospital since about day 2, and has made that desire well known to every nurse, doctor, housekeeper, transporter...you name someone who works in that hospital, they've known Sam's wanted out for weeks. So I imagine they're as happy as I am to see him get discharged into the world.

A lot has happened since he was admitted six weeks ago, too. Not only to Sam—who's had stitches put in and removed, two minor surgeries to make sure his jaw healed correctly, and countless hours of therapy to get his body working again—but also to Brandon, and Remington, and me.

The highlights?

· Brandon, who was expelled immediately after Sam was admitted, is now preparing his defense against the assault charges Ms. Evans laid down on behalf of Sam and me. And it's looking likely we'll win. (Apparently, Gemma—a fifth form girl from the cross-country team—had been at the Otts' house when Sam arrived Saturday, and though she'd been in the basement, both drunk and high, she'd heard the fight start and had come upstairs to see Aaron Hart haul Sam up so Brandon could go at him without consequence.)

· Remington found a group of cult heroes in Jill, Spencer, Jared, and (surprise of all surprises) Molly. The four of them have led a fully-fledged movement to change the deeply-rooted culture of slut shaming and sexual weaponization within Remington. It's been amazing to hear about their progress. So far, they've gotten the handbook updated to include more specific language surrounding harassment and assault, and have held a campus-wide rally to demand more open conversations about sex and bullying.

· I was able to talk with Sam about all the stupid stuff that happened between us leading up to Brandon's assault. The night I thought he was hooking up with Molly because his pants were undone and he looked like he'd been caught in the act? He was pissing in Aaron Hart's closet. (Honestly, it's the least Aaron deserves for holding Sam while he took that beating from Brandon.) And Annie...yeah, he admitted that was a low point. But I had to cop to my own bad behavior: the calls to student health about his STD problem (he'd wondered where the hell that had come from) and the fake date with Jared. Turns out, being open with each other overrode all the crazy shit we've done to each other over the past few months. Who knew?

As Ms. Evans likes to remind me, we're taking small steps down a very long and difficult road, but I'm okay with that. At least now we're on a road—I'm no longer banging around, alone, in the last car of an out-of-control rollercoaster. We have a case against Brandon, I have four friends (yes, I'd count Molly as a friend) fighting the good fight on campus, and Sam and I are both, finally, ready to give this a real try. Which is why I'm not throwing a fit when I find I have to sit for my Calc midterm on the afternoon Sam's scheduled to be discharged.

I send a message to the group chat that has sprung up during Sam's hospital visit, letting Jared, Spence, Molly, and Jill know that he's out and I'm headed to see him. I get a mix of return texts, from Jared's relatively calm Wooohoooo! to Jill's lurid string of emojis. I don't bother responding, though my stomach goes all funny.

When I pull up at Ms. Evans' hotel, Sam's sitting on a bench by the parking lot. His bruising is a lot better now than it was six weeks ago, but he's still not fully healed. According to the doctors, it's going to be a long time before he feels completely normal. Still, his jaw's no longer wired shut, and that's a huge bonus for all involved.

"Finally!" He calls as I jump from the truck. "I was starting to think the allure for you was in the hospital visits."

"Yeah," I give him a long look. "Nothing better than the smell of illness and chicken broth dinners. Now that you're back in the real world, I'm over it."

Sam sidles over to me, his hands finding my hips. "Well unfortunately you made a promise, and I'm waiting for you to keep it." He grins, his eyebrows rising while I feign confusion.

"I'm all healed up and ready for my post-hospital kiss."

I laugh, blushing. Okay, yes, I do still want to kiss Sam—badly. The six weeks we've had to become real friends, to add an emotional bond to the physical tension that's been wringing us out since August? That's only heightened my need to do so. But I blame that text on lack of sleep and food.

"Pretty sure that's not what your doctor had in mind when he told you to take it easy."

"Who says he told me to take it easy?"

I raise my own eyebrows. I've spent a lot of time with Sam's doctors the past few weeks and he knows it.

"Aw, come on, Somers. I've been wasting away in that prison for nearly two months." He flashes his famous smirk my way. "And we haven't fought once in all that time. Do you have any idea how hard it's been not to kiss you the way I want to?"

My stomach tightens, heart beating a little faster at the mischievous gleam in his eye. "Down, boy."

"Sorry." He grins. "You need to understand, I literally can't form a single coherent thought that's not about getting on top of you."

I groan, sucking my lower lip into my teeth and crossing my arms over my chest. Damn him.

He knows he's getting to me and he steps closer, his hands cupping my chin as he draws my eyes to his, searching. I'm trying to be reasonable about this, but the truth is that I've spent the past six weeks kicking myself for fighting my feelings so damn hard, thinking that nothing could ever work between Sam and me. Brandon has dictated so much of my life so needlessly. He doesn't get to do that anymore, and my newfound freedom, particularly when it comes to Sam, is long overdue.

"Now?" I ask, my voice coming out breathless.

The doctors had taken out the lip ring before his first jaw surgery, but he's somehow gotten it back in this afternoon. The thought of it on my skin, even from all those weeks ago, still raises goosebumps.

"Actually," Sam steps back, grinning wickedly. "I have something I need to say first."

I narrow my eyes on him as he directs me toward the bench he was sitting on when I pulled up.

"Sit," he demands. I do, and he follows, taking my hands and look incredibly nervous. My heart starts to beat faster. I've been so hopeful that things were turning around...is it possible Sam's changed his mind about us now that he's out of the hospital? But he's speaking now, saying, "Look, I'm not the type to get all sentimental and shit, so I don't want to drag this out, but I have to tell you something."

I gape into the space where he stops talking. "You are dragging this out," I accuse.

He laughs. "Fuck, I'm nervous, Somers. This isn't really my thing."

I snort. "Well you know waiting's not mine, so please just spit it out already."

"My girl," Sam grins. "Always biting back. One of the many things I love about you."

He looks at me seriously as the words sink in. "You..."

"I love you, Lo. Yeah." He glances at our fingers entwined on his lap. "I think I've loved you for a while now, and I can't go any longer without saying it."

But I barely acknowledge the last, because my heart is beating out of my chest, into my throat and my ears, and I feel rather than hear myself say "I love you, Sam."

His face splits into a smile as he leans into me, pressing his forehead to mine. "Thank fuck," he mutters. "I was nervous it really was the hospital visits you were into."

"Oh please," I swat him on the shoulder. But I can't bring myself to say anything else when he pulls me standing, his smile slipping into a smirk.

"So..." he brings his lips impossibly close to mine. "Can I kiss you now, or what?"