My Heart is Yours Page 5

  “Okay.” He turned to Sam. She opened her eyes. “Uh, I’m gonna pick you up okay?” She smiled a little bit, blushed again and nodded. Jason gently lifted her up. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Sam?” John got up from the couch and went over to Jason.

  Then he saw Chris, who Craig had just put on the couch.

  “What happened?” He asked.

  Jason explained what had happened at the party.

  Sam’s eyes were closed. “Did she faint?” John asked.

  “No. She fell asleep in the car.”

  “Does she have a fever?” John put a hand on her forehead. “I don’t know.” Jason shook his head.

  “No.” John said. “She’s fine. She just needs to sleep.”

  “I’ll bring her in her room.” Jason said.

  As he walked to Sam’s room, he remembered that night two years ago; the first time she laid her head on his shoulder. He’d carried her into her room then, too.

  The door to Sam’s room was open. He walked in and gently laid her down on her bed. Glancing around her room he saw the comforter her mom had made her for her thirteenth birthday. He picked it up, laid it over her small body and tucked it in around her.

  Jason looked down at her smiling. He leaned over, pushed her hair out of her face and kissed her gently on her forehead.

  He walked to her door, but before leaving he took one last look at Sam. Her tanned skin, her small body. He knew below those tanned eyelids were beautiful eyes; the ones that changed colors every few hours. And he looked at her gorgeous hair. More than anything he wanted to taste her warm sweet kiss again. But he just looked at her sweet face, smiled, turned around and closed her door behind him.

  “Oh.” He said, bumping into John in the hallway.

  “Hey, Jason.” He said smiling.

  “Hey.” He smiled back. John didn’t say anything else, so Jason turned and walked away, wondering what John saw.

  ***

  Jason went outside to the run down porch and sat down on the steps. The door opened behind him and John stepped out next to him. He sat down on the porch steps which were barely white anymore due to severely peeling paint. “So, kid, what happened tonight?”

  “Nothing. Chris passed out, Sam got a migraine. I called Craig and he drove us back.”

  “I mean what happened with you and Sam?”

  Jason blushed. “Nothing happened with me and Sam.”

  “Mhmm.” John said as he lit a cigarette.

  “Nothing happened.” Jason said again.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cuz your face is bright red kid.” John said, smirking.

  Jason smiled too, thinking about what had happened barely an hour ago. He smiled wider, wanting to kiss Sam again. And again. And again.

  Jason was brought out of his reverie by the sound of John laughing.

  “What are you laughing at?” Jason asked, shifting in his spot.

  “If you’re trying to keep what happened between you two a secret, you’re not doin’ a very good job.”

  Jason didn’t answer but could feel his face turning red again.

  “And, ya’ know, Jason, I am Sam’s older brother. So I think I should know what happened, don’t you?”

  What was he supposed to say? ‘I kissed your baby sister’? No.

  “Uh, me and Sam kissed.” Jason said quickly.

  “Yeah, thought so.”

  “Then why’d you ask me what happened?” Jason asked.

  “Cuz I wasn’t sure.”

  There was silence between them for a few minutes.

  Then Jason spoke. “Are you mad?”

  “What?” John asked. “No. Course not. Why would I be mad?”

  “I don’t know.” Jason said shyly. “Cuz, Sam’s your baby sister.”

  “If it was anyone but you, I’d give them a lecture and say if they tried anything I’d beat ‘em to death. But it’s you. You’ve loved Sam forever. And you really care about her. You’d never hurt her.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t.” Jason’s eyes betrayed no hint of a lie.

  “Then we shouldn’t have a problem kid.” He said, messing up Jason’s jet black hair.

  Everyone in the senior class was talking about how they couldn’t believe the year was almost over. Sam wasn’t nearly as concerned. She was thinking about what happened between her and Jason last night.

  “Sam. Sam. Samantha? Miss Ramsden!”

  Sam blinked and looked back up at the front of the classroom.

  “Is our head in the clouds?” She asked.

  “Oh, uh, I’m sorry.” The bell rang just after she finished her sentence.

  Sam saw Jason standing outside the classroom as she started packing her books. His class was right next door to hers. She smiled and waved to him. He smiled shyly and waved back.

  As the class was packing up their stuff Mrs. Henderson called Sam over to her desk. She looked at Jason as her teacher closed the door.

  “Yes.” Sam said.

  “You seemed distracted during class. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine.”

  “Samantha, I notice you hang out with that boy, Jason, quite a bit.” Mrs. Henderson seemed like she was looking down her nose at him even though he wasn’t there.

  “Yes . . . and?” Sam asked.

  “Well, he meets you outside class every day. And . . . .watching you two together it seems like he’s got a bit of an interest in you. And that you may have an interest in him.”

  “So?” Sam tried to keep her tone acceptable.

  “I just think. It’s just that.” Mrs. Henderson paused and took a deep breath. Despite her efforts, she blurted. “You have so much potential! And I don’t think that Jason is good enough for you. I don’t want him to hold you back.”

  Sam was silent, seething. And then she spoke up. “What do you want me to say? ‘Thank you for your concern?’ ‘I understand?’ ‘I’ll take it under consideration?’”

  “Sam.” Mrs. Henderson puffed up.

  “No. Listen to me. I don’t give a damn what you think. You don’t know Jason. I do. No one knows Jason like I do. He’s so much more than you see. Than anyone sees. Even him. And you are right about one thing. Jason’s not just ‘good enough’ for me. He’s perfect for me.” With that, Sam swung open the door and let it slam behind her, running straight into Jason.

  “Oh.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jason asked, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

  “Nothing. I’m fine. Now.” She smiled.

  “So, um, should we talk about what happened last night?” She continued.

  “I guess we should.” Jason said. He unsuccessfully attempted to hide his smile.

  “You said you were my boyfriend. Last night. When that guy tried to get me to dance with him.”

  “I’m kind of surprised you remember.” Jason smirked.

  “I wasn’t the drunk one. Chris was.” Sam pointed out.

  Jason laughed softly. “I know. But you did have a really bad migraine.”

  “I don’t think that I’d forget that kiss.” They both blushed. “Or that you said you were my boyfriend.”

  “Oh, yeah, I . . .” Jason searched frantically for words.

  “Do you want to be?” She said.

  “What?” He squeaked out and then cleared his throat loudly.

  “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Sam asked.

  “Well, I, uh.” He stuttered again.

  “Jason.” Sam said, taking his hand.

  “Yeah, I do. So, uh, Sam, do you wanna go steady with me?”

  Sam smile was so wide that almost all of her teeth became visible. “Yes.” She said. Jason smiled, leaned in and kissed her.

  “So that’s a yes? You want to be a couple?” Sam leaned back and looked into his dark brown eyes.

  He kissed her again. “Yes.”

&nb
sp; Sam continued to smile so wide that her cheeks hurt. “How are we going to tell the guys?”

  “We could just have John tell them.” Jason shrugged.

  “Excuse me?” She arched a quizzical eyebrow.

  “John knows what happened last night.” He explained.

  “Of course he does. I shouldn’t be surprised.” She shook her head but smirked in spite of herself. John would be the first of them to know.

  Sam smiled wider. Jason smiled right back at her and leaned in for another kiss.

  ***

  It was the end of June 1966. The senior class of Deermont High had graduated. Sam had never seen Craig so proud.

  Sam, Juliana, and Derek had all gotten acceptance letters to Princeton. Sam had been waiting to hear from financial aid. One stifling day the letter finally came.

  It was late afternoon and Jason and Sam were on the couch watching a movie. The guys of course teased them a lot, followed by quite a few congratulations. Craig wasn’t ecstatic, but he accepted it.

  Craig walked out to the end of the driveway and sitting in their gray mailbox was a letter from Princeton financial aide. For a moment he let hope bubble up inside him. He quickly suppressed it. He couldn’t let himself get his hopes up for this. Not yet. He knew the letter was technically for Sam, but he couldn’t help himself. Before he went inside, Craig opened the letter, and his face dropped. How was he going to tell Sam?

  “Sam.” He called as he walked in, the screen door slamming behind him.

  “Yeah?”

  “We got a letter from Princeton financial aid.” Craig said hesitantly.

  She sat up straight. “What’s it say?”

  “Well, you got a scholarship.” He began.

  “Really? I did.” She cut him off quickly. His face fell. Sam saw the look on his face now.

  “What?” She said hesitantly, her eyebrows knitting close together.

  “We still can’t afford it.” He said slowly.

  “Oh.” She flopped back down on the couch next to Jason. “Oh, uh. Okay.”

  “Sam, I’m sorry.” He sat down on the couch next to her.

  “It’s okay, Craig. I understand. Princeton’s expensive. It’s fine. I could still take some classes around here.”

  “Sam, I—” Craig put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Craig. It’s fine. Really.” She said with finality.

  Craig sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, so he went into the kitchen.

  Jason pulled Sam closer and she rested her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair gently.

  “You sure you’re okay?” He asked.

  “I’ll survive.”

  “I’m sorry.” He said and kissed the top of her head. She smiled and snuggled closer to him.

  Sam sat nestled in the pile of pillows on her bed, journal open on her lap. This was a new one, a simple blue spiral notebook, she couldn’t afford much else then.

  You know, I want to be happy for Juliana and Derek. I really do, but I can’t help feeling a little jealous of them. Jealous that they get to go to a great school like Princeton. They don’t even have to worry about financial aid or scholarships or any of that. They don’t have to worry about money period. I mean, I know that they have their own stuff to worry about, but still, it must be nice. Nice to have money and not have that stupid crap stop you from doing what you want to. I’m glad that I have Jason to make me feel better. But still, it makes me jealous. Even a little angry.

  It was later that night, past midnight. Jason wasn’t at Sam’s house. He’d gone home to get sleep. Sam wished that he’d just never go back to his father’s house again. She tried to convince him to stay at their place but he insisted on going home. Sam couldn’t imagine why but she sincerely hoped that it wasn’t because of Craig.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door.

  “Come in.”

  John peeked in. “Hey, baby sister.”

  Sam glanced up from her journal. “Hey, John. You can come in you know.”

  “Are you okay?” He asked, sitting down next to her on her bed.

  “John, I’m fine.” She sighed.

  “You always say you’re fine, Sam.”

  She paused. “I’ll get over it.”

  “That’s better.” He nodded slightly.

  “You want me to be sad?”

  “No. I just don’t want you pretending you’re not.” John offered her a small smile.

  Sam lay back on her bed and sighed.

  “Like I said, I’ll get over it.” She stared up at the white ceiling.

  “Are Derek and Juliana going?” He asked.

  “Of course they are. Besides, they don’t need financial aid. They’re rich.” Sam tried not to let bitterness drip out of her voice but despite her efforts it still escaped.

  “That’s what you get for having a couple of rich friends. If all your friends were poor like us, you’d have a lot less of this disappointment.” John said with his patented blend of complete seriousness and a hint of teasing.

  Sam punched him on the arm. “Ouch.” He said. Sam had grown up with a bunch of boys, so she could throw a powerful punch if she wanted to; and she wanted to.

  “Don’t be such a girl.” Sam teased him.

  “Yeah, yeah, smart ass. I’m just sayin’.” John said, messing up Sam’s hair. She smiled. John always did have a way of making her feel better.

  ***

  Derek and Juliana were getting ready to head off to Princeton at the end of August. Sam had registered for a couple of classes at a community college close to their house. She was still upset about not going to Princeton, but she had Jason, and every time she looked at him she forgot about everything else. All things considered, she was the happiest she’d ever been in her life.

  Jason couldn’t afford to take Sam out to fancy restaurants or take her shopping, so there weren’t a lot of “dates”. At least not in the traditional way most people think of dates. He’d take her to a movie once in a while but that was about it. They’d go to the park and walk around there together. Sometimes Sam would go on the swings. Jason never really went on the swings, but he would push Sam on them. Otherwise, they’d hang out at Sam’s house. Not Jason’s though. Never Jason’s.

  “I wish I could get you stuff.” Jason said suddenly one day when he and Sam were lying on Sam’s bed. The lamp from her chipped wooden nightstand was dim.

  “What?” She asked, turning to look at him.

  “I don’t know, I just wish that I could buy you stuff you know?”

  “You don’t need to get me anything. I don’t need anything. I have you.” She smiled. “What else could I possibly need?”

  Jason blushed a bit and smiled at Sam looking deep into her eyes. Today they were a lovely sky blue. He placed a hand on the side of her face, kissed her and when she pulled away he said, “Sam?”

  “Yeah, Jason?” Her eyes were content.

  “I love you.”

  There was complete silence.

  “Sam?” Jason asked.

  “I-I.” She stammered.

  “Do you love me?”

  “Jason, uh I.” Her mouth flopped uselessly.

  “You don’t.” He said getting up. His face had gone hard. Dark.

  Sam got to her feet and grabbed his hand. “I didn’t say that.” She said.

  “You didn’t say you did either.”

  “Jason . . . please.” She begged, her blonde hair slightly bedraggled.

  “No. You don’t love me. I get it.”

  “I never said I didn’t love you.” Sam’s voice cracked.

  “Then tell me you do. Right now.” His eyes bore into hers.

  Sam was silent. Jason’s hand slid out of hers as he walked away. Sam ran after him. “Please don’t go.” She begged. Tears were collecting but she didn’t let them spill.

  “Can you tell me that you love me? And mean it.” His voice had a hard edge to it that she’d never heard before.

  “Jason, it’s, it’s
not that I don’t.” She tried to explain it to him.

  “Forget it.” He said.

  “Wait.”

  “I think…” He started, and then sighed. “Sam. I can’t see you anymore. At least not for a while.” His eyes lost the hard edge for a fraction of a second revealing unfathomable pain.

  “Jason. Please, don’t.”

  “Bye, Sam.”

  She watched him walk out of her door, letting it slam behind him. A lone tear escaped and then the flood followed.

  The door slammed as John got home from work. He stubbed his toe on the coffee table again. “Damn it.” He muttered. “Sam? Jason?” He called out. “Hey, lovebirds!”

  “Sam?” He walked into the kitchen and not finding her there walked into the hallway. He knocked on Sam’s door. “Hey. Anyone in there?” He knocked again. “Hello?” He heard a low noise. “Sam?” He called quietly, opening her door. “Hon? Are you in here?” The lights were out but he could hear something. It sounded like crying. Sam, crying? About what? John sat down on Sam’s bed and pulled the covers down revealing Sam’s head on a light blue pillow soaked with tears. The light blue had turned dark where Sam had stained it with her tears.

  “Sam, what happened?” He asked.

  “It’s Jason.” She sobbed.

  “What? Did something happen to him?”

  “No. He’s fine. Kind of.”

  “You don’t look fine.” John said.

  She cried harder into her pillow.

  “Sam, come on, tell me what happened.”

  “Jason and I were talking, and he . . . and he . . . he told me loved me.”

  John, who knew his sister so well, finished the story. “And you didn’t say it back.”

  “No. I didn’t. He looked so hurt. It killed me. And then he said we shouldn’t see each other for a while.” She rubbed her eyes which were red from crying.

  He rubbed her back softly through the covers. “Do you love him?”

  She nodded. “Of course I do.”

  “Why couldn’t you say it?”

  “I don’t know.” Sam said, still sobbing hysterically, barely coherent. She took a few deep breaths and began again, easier to understand this time. “I do. I really do. So much. But, I don’t know I’m just so . . . screwed up that I think if something ever happened to him, it’d hurt me more if I’d told him I loved him.”