Fearless (The Story of Samantha Smith #1) (9 page)

Adonis.

I wiped the makeup off as best I could before going inside for groceries.
 

When I passed the frozen foods section, it took all of my will power to walk past the ice cream. But I did, even though I swear the chocolate chip cookie dough sang my name like the sirens that tried to pull Odysseus’ ship onto the rocks. I’m pretty sure ice cream was invented by Satan.

I made it back to my car having only bought the food I needed to eat.

When I got to my apartment, I stashed everything in the fridge. I took a couple of towels outside to spot-clean any remaining coffee left in my car. There wasn’t much to do. Adonis had done a thorough job with his impromptu cleaning supplies.
 

Inside, I made myself a blueberry smoothie and kicked back on the couch in my living room. I was on the second story of a small building, and had an amazing view of the ocean.

I thought back to the August day I had arrived in San Diego.

When I had first rolled into the driveway of my new apartment complex, I was ecstatic. The building was beautiful, and lived up to the pictures I’d seen online.
 

My parents had insisted I live off-campus, even though it was my first year and I didn’t know anybody. Their logic was that if I was in the dorms, I wouldn’t get any studying done. I didn’t know from experience, so I took their word for it, like always. That was slowly starting to change.

Ever since leaving D.C., I’d felt a growing sense of independence I’d never known while living under my parents’ roof.
 

I had driven my VW from D.C. to San Diego by myself because my stuff took up every available inch of my car. I was glad there wasn’t room for my mom or dad to come along. It was a hella long drive, but I had my mp3 player and my tunes to keep me company.

My parents had discussed flying out to help me settle in, but they were short on cash and couldn’t get time off work to make the long drive. I was okay with that.

Maybe I would miss out on the glory of an action-packed college social life in the dorms, but in exchange, I would be able to study diligently in this idyllic beach environment. I mean, I could actually walk to the beach and study there. How awesome was that?

I did owe a debt of gratitude to my parents. Although I had to take out a hefty student loan to cover tuition, my parents could afford to pitch in on the apartment, taking a huge load off my shoulders.

I was all set up to take ownership of my own life.

I pulled out my books and laptop, and studied for awhile. Some time later, my phone warbled. It was Madison.

“What up, Mads?”

“So, tell me what happened with Adonis! I want to hear all the details.” I had texted her about running into him at the museum while walking to my car, before the police fiasco.

“Oh, gosh. It was a disaster.”

“What happened?”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’ll probably be on the eleven o’clock news.”

“What?” she shouted.
 

“The cops were involved. Need I say more?” I sighed.

“Wow, your car must’ve been super dirty from the coffee! That’s why the cops came, right?” she joked.
 

“Okay, that was funny,” I grinned. “But the real story wasn’t.”

“Wait, don’t tell me yet. The full story demands Thai food. I’m buying. I’ll be at your place in two minutes.”

Madison had her own apartment a few miles up the Pacific Coast Highway. She had roommates, but wasn’t into the dorm scene either. We were our very own college subculture.

We got Thai food on the boardwalk near my apartment and sat outside. The sun was low over the ocean, but the air was still warm and pleasant.

Madison wound her chopsticks into her noodles. “What happened with Adonis?”

I shook my head. “He got arrested.”

Madison’s eyebrows arched. “What? Creepy. You called the cops on the poor guy for flirting with you at the museum, didn’t you? Harsh, Sam. Harsh.”

Based on her nonchalance, any remaining fears I had that Madison harbored any sort of crush on Adonis were completely gone, thanks goodness. “No, it wasn’t me. Well, it was
sort
of me. I think.”

“What happened?”

“I bumped into him at my car. We were talking and the cops showed up and cuffed him and took him away. The cop told me they had a warrant for assault. I think it’s because he punched that guy this morning.”

“What? That’s crazy!”

“That’s what I thought.” I tweezed a lump of Pad Thai, but my appetite was gone for the moment. I set my chopsticks down. “I don’t really know what happened.”

“Maybe he’s an ex-con with a rap sheet. Trouble and a guy like that are BFFs. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Sam.”

I sure did.
 

“Maybe you’re better off with him out of the picture.”

“Yeah.” But the thought of never seeing Adonis again made me feel nervous, and sort of empty. That
was
insane. I didn’t even know the guy. I straightened in my chair. “You’re right. I’ll probably forget about him by tomorrow morning.”

“That’s the spirit, girl. I saw fifty other hot guys today on campus. You can forget you ever met Adonis What’s-his-lame.”

The only problem with Madison’s logic was that I couldn’t get Adonis out of my mind.

Madison dropped me at my apartment after dinner and I tried to study for awhile. I read all about balance sheets, cash flow and double-entry blahbedyblah.

But I couldn’t stop obsessing about Adonis.

Was he in jail? Spending the night in some dank holding cell with a bunch of drunks, druggies, and gang-bangers? Because he had defended my honor? Shit, honor nothing. More like defending my life.

Red Face had wanted to bitch slap me for making him late this morning. If Adonis hadn’t knocked him on his ass, Fatty would be the one in jail for assault, and I’d be recovering in a battered women’s shelter.
 

I got up and made myself a drink. Seltzer water and a splash of Peach Cocktail. I leaned against the countertop in the kitchen and gazed at the fading line of light on the horizon. So beautiful. Could Adonis see the sun setting? Or did his view consist of steel bars and concrete?

I noticed my drawing pad leaning against the wall by the front door. I walked over, picked it up and flipped through it. Wow, they were terrible. The two sketches Professor Childress had drawn as examples were a million times better than mine.
 

I prepared to throw my drawing pad in the trash so I could focus on income statements and expenses, my true calling. But one of my later sketches caught my eye.
 

The sketch was just a few lines, like the professor had showed me. It really looked like Adonis. I vividly remembered him holding that pose. I was surprised I got any drawing done with his nakedness staring me in the face, but I had.

I shook my head and grinned.

I had seen Adonis naked this morning! I’d seen his guy gear! I blushed and fanned my face. How crazy was that? The question was, would I ever see any of him again? And did I want to?

Yes, of course! But also sort of no. He probably
was
in jail. Did I want to get involved with a guy like that? How many times had he been in jail already? I didn’t know. I admonished myself that making such assumptions was how rumors got started, wasn’t it? People conjecturing wildly about someone they didn’t know.

Emo. Goth. Witch. Sorceress.

I had no right to judge Adonis based on anything other than what I’d witnessed with my own two eyes. All I knew about him was that he had helped out a total stranger, me, and cleaned my car. Did I mention he was hot?
 

Yes, he got arrested. But why? For punching Fatty this morning? If that was the reason, then as far as I was concerned, Adonis really was a knight in shining armor. Not some knuckle-dragging ex-con with his own WANTED poster.

It was getting late. I washed my face and got ready for bed. I changed into a lace cami and some boxers. The second my head hit the pillow and I closed my eyes, I saw twin sapphires staring back at me, full of hurt.

I grabbed one of my pillows from behind me, smashed it against my face, and screamed.

Bitch. Slut. Whore.
 

This had turned into a three-way suckfest. I felt terrible for Adonis. So what if he was a player? He was also a decent guy. And now he was probably spending the night in jail.
 

Because of me.

Tease.

I thought I’d left all my shit behind in Washington D.C.
 

How the hell had I managed to fuck up San Diego in less than twenty-four hours?

Suicide Watch.

Horrible images from my past flooded my mind’s eye. It was always the same.

The bright flash of color. The sound. That horrible sound that echoed in my thoughts every single night. The blood.

So much blood.

And all those lies. Thousands of them.

Taylor.

Before, and after.

The ones I told myself, and the ones I told everybody else.

A vortex of discomfort spun inside my stomach, like a thousand pins and needles jammed inside me trying to poke their way out.
 

I teetered on the edge of insanity. But some inner spark pulled me back from the edge. No problem. I knew two time-tested methods for easing those old feelings into submission.

I threw on clothes and drove to the grocery store. Once inside, it took me a moment to ponder my options. Liquor aisle, or ice cream aisle?

Both provided an escape I had relied on many times during high school. After Taylor. When the pain inside me had become too much, and the voices too loud, I had learned how to drown them out.
 

Experience had taught me that I couldn’t mix my poisons. Ice cream absorbed alcohol, and made getting drunk more difficult. So it was best to pick one.

I had stolen plenty of bottles of wine back in D.C. I preferred the white wines, the sweeter the better. Blushes and Rosés. were a close second. The only problem with San Diego was that it was too warm for bulky coats, and I didn’t have a big enough purse anymore. I’d chucked my old grab-bag handbag when I moved out here. I was determined to leave my habits behind me, but apparently, they’d jumped in the trunk of my VW when I drove across country. I had unwittingly packed my emotional baggage with me. Not so surprising, when I thought about it in those terms. But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

My parents never discovered what a drunko klepto I had been in high school. If they had, I’m sure a full-fledged intervention would’ve ensued. They would’ve freaked. Oh well, too late now. I was nineteen, and I was the only one who could work out my issues.

Since I still wasn’t old enough to buy booze legally, I settled for ice cream. I grabbed a hand basket and made my way to the frozen narcotics section.
 

I loaded my basket with a variety of flavors, all in pints, until it was literally full. I think I had about seventeen altogether. That should be enough.

The cashier, an older guy with thinning hair and thick glasses, had to make a comment. “You got enough ice cream?” His voice was friendly.

Mine was too. I knew how to play the part. “I’m having a bunch of girlfriends over tomorrow for movies and ice cream. Never can have enough.”

He nodded and smiled and rung me up. I paid and walked to my car with my huge bag of drugs. When I got to my apartment, I shoved everything into the freezer. I barely forced them all in. That was okay, I would work my way through them fast enough.

I didn’t have a TV, so I watched funny cat videos on my laptop while I dug into my first pint. Double chocolate fudge peanut butter swirl. Numbness achieved.

The thing about my jogging habit, which I had picked up two years ago to fight off the long-term side effects of ice cream overkill, was that it burned a lot of calories. So I had plenty of room for dessert on top of the minimal Pad Thai I’d had for dinner.
 

Countless cat videos and five pints later, my stomach was ready to burst. But I couldn’t feel the pins and needles anymore. Mission accomplished.
 

I hadn’t done this in awhile. Apparently, I’d forgotten my limits, or my stomach had shrunk. When I realized I had to pee or explode, I couldn’t tell which, I stood up. My swollen belly screamed at me.

Well, I knew how to deal with that. I went to the bathroom. Peed first, just in case. Then I flushed, watching clean water fill the bowl. I casually put my hair in a ponytail and leaned over. I’d learned it was easier to do standing up. I jammed my finger down my throat and it took only a second for Mother Nature to do her thing.

My gag reflex kicked in and my stomach seized. The first gush of brownish-gray ice cream poured out. My stomach burbled, but nothing more. I flushed, clearing the bowl.

Another finger, and the second bomb dropped. I thought something in my abdomen was going to tear, and I leaned my forearms on my thighs, head inches over the bowl. Hey look, Pad Thai.

I swiped a strip of toilet paper off the roll and wiped my mouth. I felt better. I flushed again, and rinsed my face before brushing my teeth.

I trudged to my bed and flopped down on top of the blankets.
 

Sleep was nowhere close, and I could tell my demons weren’t ready to rest either.

I jumped out of bed and went to the kitchen. I yanked open the freezer. I’d made a good dent in my first-aid kit of frozen opium. Did I need more?

I remembered that I had made an oath to myself when I was accepted to SDU that my life was going to change for the better. Yet here I was, slipping back into old habits.

I was disgusted with myself. But I was also in pain over my botched first day, and the foundation of more than two years worth of misery that lay below the here and now.

Taylor.

 
I needed to do something, or else I was going to go crazy.
 

I slammed the freezer shut and threw on running clothes.

My demons couldn’t hurt me if they couldn’t catch me.