Chapter 14: That Was A Dumb Question

“Hey Stef,” Samuel greets with a boyish grin. 

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper and my eyes wide.

“I missed you,” He says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “So, I came to see you.”

“B-but how?” I stammer, dropping the bucket, still in a state of shock that Sam is standing before me.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He says, crossing the barn and resting his hands on my waist. “Let’s not talk about that now, okay? I missed you and right now, all I wanna do is kiss you. It’s been forever since I kissed you.”

Giggling, I push a lock of my hair behind my ear and shake my head, “It hasn’t been that long.”

“Well, it’s been long enough,” He corrects, leaning down and pushing his lips to mine.

As much as I love him and as much as I’ve missed him and as much as I love kissing him, this isn’t right. It’s not right at all. I mean, I’ve only been here just under a week and I’ve already committed the worst act a person can do in a relationship. Not only once at that, but twice! I’ve slept with Ben and kissed Wesley already and it’s not even been a week. What’s next? Giving Conrad a bj?

I really shouldn’t expect anything less from myself, honestly.

I’m being sarcastic, of course. I’m not even remotely attracted to Conrad in that way. He’s much too childish and annoying for me to find him attractive. I mean, yeah, he’s hot, but that’s really it. His annoyingness kinda overshadows his cuteness. And that is definitely not something I should be thinking about while kissing my boyfriend I haven’t seen in nearly a month.

Suddenly, Sam’s tongue begins to probe my lips and then slightly pushes its way in. Samuel begins to refamiliarizing himself with the inside of my mouth, his tongue capturing mine. Sam’s hands suddenly travel up my waist, slipping underneath my Starbucks t-shirt and roam my torso.

Unexpectedly, I’m slammed against the barn wall - hard - and Sam’s body is firmly pushed up against mine. He roughly moves his hips against mine, practically gluing them together. He pulls his lips from mine as my breath goes ragged, but he doesn’t completely stop kissing me. Instead he lets his lips trail down my throat as he begins to suck on my neck, peppering it with kisses.

I bite down on my lower lip, suppressing a moan as I feel him being to leave a hickey. I’ve never been a fan of them, hickey’s I mean, but Sam likes to leave them on me. What’s he call it? Marking his territory or something like that. Anyways, whenever he’s set on leaving one, I always make him leave it in an inconspicuous place, like my stomach or somewhere else outta sight. You see, hickey’s weren’t exactly favorable in L.A., not in the expensive part that I lived in, that is. Especially because nearly every single person there associated hickey’s with sex and sex with teenage pregnancy which was and of course, still is, totally unacceptable in their eyes.

After a few minutes, I force myself to pull away from Sam. It’s just that when I’m kissing him, of course my eyes are closed then I start imagining that it’s Wesley, seeing as how I just kissed the boy last night. I dramatically speed up my breathing though, making Sam think I just needed some air.

Samuel raises his hand, pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I love you so much, Stephanie.”

I crinkle my nose at the name, “Don’t call me that.”

“But I do love you. More than you’ll ever know. I love you, Stephanie Elizabeth Vandergeld, and I want the whole entire world to know.” He explains, kissing my forehead.

“I, um, I love you too, Samuel.” I tell him, nodding nervously.

“You okay?” He wonders, stepping back a bit and examining me.

 “Y-yeah, I’m great.” I murmur, not meeting his eyes.

Samuel nods and then averts his gaze, looking over at the four cows. He steps away from me and walks over to Barbara (or maybe it’s Daisy? Raven? Betsy? Heck, I dunno these cows apart), and pats her on the back, gracelessly. “How, ugh, cute?” Sam awkwardly says.

“Oh, yeah, so stinking adorable.” I sarcastically agree, kicking the bucket right side up.

“So,” My boyfriend says after a moment, clearing his throat. “This is seriously your life now?”

“I guess,” I shrug. “Hopefully not for much longer though. I hate it, Sammy, I hate it so much.” I whine.

“I know you do, baby,” He replies, walking back over to me and cradling me in a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”

Me too. I don’t say that out loud, because I’m not apologizing for my quality of life right now. I’m apologizing for what I did to him. I have to tell him; it’s literally eating me up inside. I can’t be with him and keep these two secrets from him. Like, what kinda girlfriend does that? No kinda girlfriend, that’s what kind!

“Your father isn’t any closer to getting V.I. back then?” He wonders, resting his head on top of mine.

“No,” I sigh. “I don’t think so.”

“Well,” He chuckles. “You do make one sexy country girl,” Sam assures me.

“Oh, hush,” I retort, pushing him lightly. “So, how long will you be here for?”

“My parents were hesitant to even let me come, so I can only stay a week, but that’s long enough.”

“A week?” I echo.

“Mhm,” Samuel nods, repositioning his hands on my waist.

“Oh,” I lamely reply.

“What, does that not make you happy? Didn’t you wanna see me?” He wonders.

“Of course I did!” I exclaim. “I, erm, I just wasn’t prepared, you know?”

“That’s why they call it a surprise, baby.” He retorts.

“Hey, do you have car here with you?” I randomly ask.

“Yeah, I rented one once I got to the airport. Why?”

“Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

“Okay,” He agrees. “Why though?”

“To just, you know, talk.” I tell him.

“Yeah, okay.” Samuel agrees. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I retort. “You can tell me about Puerto Rico?” I suggest.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna get in trouble for that?”

“Probably will, my grandmother’s kinda a bitch, but I don’t care.”

“Good enough for me,” Sam replies, leading me out of the barn.

We walk hand in hand down the dirt road and around the front where there’s a red BMW idling in the driveway. I head over to it and then jump into the passenger seat, pulling my seatbelt on as Sam gets in the driver’s seat.

“I never even told you where I was living; how’d you find it?” I wonder as we ride down the road.

“Oh, I called Spencer and he told me. By the way, why were you ignoring my call earlier?”

“Huh?” I say, playing dumb.

“I called you a few times today, you know, so I could get the address but you never answered.”

“Oh, yeah. Um,  I-I haven’t had my phone on me pretty much all day.” I evasively lie.

“Really?” Sam queries with a skeptical look, eyeing me in his peripheral vision. “That’s unlike you.”

“My grandma took it so I wouldn’t be too distracted to do my chores.”

“Is she really that mean?”

“Yes!” I exclaim with a short laugh. “She’s terrible!”

“You’re probably just overreacting.” Sam argues.

“Yeah, no, you’re underreacting.” I reason.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Sam says, rescinding his defense. “So, where do you wanna talk at?”

I shrug, looking out of the window. “Erm, I think there’s a park not too far away. Let’s go there.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You look like you just saw a ghost,” He notes.

You’re supposed to be in Puerto Rico. Not here. In Tennessee. Of course I look like I just saw a ghost.

That’s my mental reply, emphasis on the mental. Instead I just give a nervous chuckle and roll my lips into my mouth, looking out of the passenger as if the numerous evergreens excite me or something.

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at a park. Well, I don’t even think you could call it a park; it’s more like a playground. There’s not too many kids here, just a few with parents or grandparents and stuff. Another thing Grandmother Nancy never did for Spencer and me when we were children visiting her.

She never brought us down to the park and ran us around until we were too tired to keep going. No, no, no. Whenever Spencer and I would visit the farm, you know what my grandmother’s idea of ‘bonding’ was? Making five year old Steffy and seven year old Spencer help her ‘tidy’ up. Her definition of tidy wasn’t your definition of tidy either. Her’s was more like a deep clean scrubbing.

And she wonders why I’m so disrespectful towards her. Then again, I guess I’m disrespectful towards most people. What can I say? I don’t like people. When you grow up with more money in your trust fund than most people make in ten years, you’re generally not liked. By other adults that is, which is why I was so sheltered in L.A. If I could help it, I’d never, never leave our part of L.A. - the wealthy part.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Samuel wonders, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Just…stuff,” I say vaguely.

“What kinda stuff?”

“Stuff from when I had a good life.” I deadpan.

“Oh, come on, Stef.” He sighs. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Stop saying that,” I mutter. “You don’t even know what it’s like.”

“Neither do you.” Samuels says under his breath. “You’ve been doing it, what, all of a week?”

“That doesn’t mean that I like it.” I shoot back.

“I know you don’t, but maybe if you just gave it some time, it--“

“Don’t say it’d get better, because it won’t. Also, I don’t plan on being around here long enough to see.”

“Meaning?” Sam asks as he slowly pulls the expensive rental car into a spot and turns the car off.

Cocking my head to the side, I say, “Samuel, my daddy’s getting Vandergeld Industries back. I know it.”

Samuel doesn’t say anything for a second, but instead lifts his lower half up in the seat, pulling something from his back pocket. It’s his gold Louis Vuitton wallet that I bought him last year for his birthday. He pulls it open and thumbs the inside, his fingers raking over the numerous Ben Franklin’s and Ulysses S. Grant’s. Samuel’s fingers glide over the bank notes and the plethora of credits cards before he stops on his Platinum AmEx credit card. Samuel wordlessly reaches into the slip and pulls it out, handing it to me.

“For you,” He says, setting in my hand which is idly resting on the armrest.

“Your AmEx?” I ask in shell shock. “What’re you giving it to me for?”

“Because I have about seven other credits cards and about sixteen hundred dollars on me right now.” He explains. “I don’t need that AmEx, I’ve got others; you take it.”

“I can’t take your AmEx,” I say, realizing how much trouble I’d get in with my parents.

“You can and you will.” Sam firmly tells me. “Think of it as an early birthday present.”

“My birthday isn’t until December 13th.”

“I know that.” Samuel reasons. “That’s close to now.”

“It’s May 4th.”

“Stop making excuses not to take it and just take it, Steffy.”

“But I can’t take your money; my parents would kill me.”

“Whoever said your parents ever have to know?”

That’s the exact same thing Ben said to me before we did it. Well, except he said ‘your boyfriend’. Why do I remember these things? God, I’m so weird.

“Okay, fine, if you insist,” I reply, pushing the card down into my jean shorts. “Is there a credit limit?”

Samuel laughs as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard - and I guess it is, because neither Spencer, nor I ever had credit limits on any of our cards. And trust me we had a lot. I remember one month though, I got into trouble because according to Steven - the family banker/accountant - I spent $60,000. I’m pretty sure it was only half of that, which isn’t bad, I don’t think. In my defense, my mother’s birthday was in that month, my friend Taylin’s birthday was in that month, and Samuel had gotten honored at the Country Club. All of those required me spending money, but I know I never spent over $35,000. Not in one month, anyway.

“Okay, that was a dumb question,” I giggle.

“Yes, yes it was.” Samuel agrees, pushing his door open and getting out.

I do the same and he laces his fingers through mine, the two of us walking across the dead grass together.

“Hey, look, there’s two swings no one’s on. You wanna ride? You love swings.” Sam reminds me.

“I do love swings,” I agree and almost say yes to swinging but then I remember what I brought him here to do. To tell him what I did so that we have no secrets in our relationship. Granted, after I tell him, there probably will no longer be a relationship between us, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? At least, that’s what I was always told by my nannies. “but let’s just go over to those picnic tables,” I suggest.

So, Samuel and I head over to the deserted picnic tables and sit down together. I’m a bit hesitant at first because it’s not one of those concrete picnic tables. It’s a blue plastic type one, which is probably infested and crawling with germs. I’m not a germaphobe; I just don’t like being sick.

“So, you wanna hear about Puerto Rico?” He wonders, stroking the back of my hand in his big one.

“Yeah,  I do.” I confirm, nodding with a smile.

“Well, it was amazing. I think for our one year anniversary I wanna take you there.”

Too bad we won’t be together a whole year. Maybe I’m over exaggerating. Maybe once I tell him, he won’t freak out an break up with me. Maybe he’ll forgive me and we can just consider this a bump in the road. I could always guilt trip him and bring up what happened over the Thanksgiving holiday break back in November.

We’d only been dating about two and a half months then, but for Thanksgiving, the Watkins always go to Australia - don’t ask why, because I don’t know. But they do. Anyways though, while Sam was away there, I found out he was doing a lot more than eating Turkey, if you catch my drift. Long story short, he hooked up with some Australian girl. How do I know this? I have friends in Australia. Okay, I have a friend in Australia. 

“Yeah,” I say, jumping back into the current conversation. “That’d be amazing.”

“And the food? The food is wonderful. It’s like dying and going to heaven every time.”

I giggle at that, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes, if you though the Monaco food was good, you’d love it.” He coos.

“I bet,” I chuckle.

“What’s on your mind? Usually you’d be jumping off the walls right now.”

“We’re at a park; there are no walls.”

“It’s a figure of speech, sweetie.” Sam says, patting my head with a laugh.

“Oh,” I say, my face going red. “I knew that.’’

“Sure you did. So, tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Taking a deep breath, I say, “So there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“Okay,” He nods. “What’s up?”

“You remember that party I said I was going to a few days ago?”

“I remember. Why?”

“I did something bad there.” I admit.

“Did you get drunk?” He asks in a disapproving tone. “Stef, you know how you are when you’re drunk.”

“I di--“

“You’re all sloppy and falling over. You could have gotten hurt.” Samuel reprimands.

“Sam, cool your jets, I didn’t get drunk.” I say, irritated at his implication.

“Did you get high? Because you promised me you wouldn’t get out here and start doing that.”

I scoff, “I didn’t promise you that. And even if I did get high, why would you care? You do it.”

He rolls his eyes, “So? I’m stupid; you’re not.”

“That’s not it anyways,” I say, shaking my head. “Now stop interrupting.”

“Okay, I’m done talking.” Samuel says, zipping his fingers over his lips. “Say what you gotta say.”

“So, at this birthday party I did something really stupid. I was drinking, yes, but I wasn’t drunk. It was only a few sips, honest. My friends I went to the party with went off to find the girl whose birthday it was and the other was hooking up with some guy, so I was all alone. Well, you remember Ben?”

“The guy whose hoodie you had on?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” I confirm with a sly nod.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Well, he came over to me and he was drinking and stuff too, but he wasn’t drunk either.”

“Did he hurt you? If he did, I’ll find him and we can get Jerry on this pronto.”

Jerry is the Watkins’ personal attorney. Samuel has a tendency to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and the legal counsel  is usually needed. Like last year when we were sophomores Sam and a few of his baseball buddies broke into the school after hours and spray painted lockers. I mean, I only know that because he told me, but the lawyer thinks he was framed, as does everyone else. He’s a golden boy; he’s not supposed to get into trouble. But my poor boyfriend is like a magnet for trouble. He’s lucky he’s got Jerry though because Jerry keeps him out of trouble every single time. I’m not saying he’s a bad boy or anything because he’s not. Far from it, actually. Sometimes though, he just gets out of line.

“You don’t need to call Jerry,” I assure him.

“Okay,” He says, putting his phone back on the table. “Then what happened?”

“We started dancing.”

“And?” Sam wonders awkwardly.

“Then we w--“

“Steffy, hey, fancy meeting you here.” Wesley’s voice interjects, suddenly beside me.

“Wesley!” I exclaim, my voice going up an octave. “W-what’re you doing here?”

“My mom’s working all day today until late night so I’m being forced to keep the terrible twins.”

“I’m sure they’re not that bad,” I say, knowing he’s referring to Aiden and Adeline, his twin siblings.

“That’s what you think,” He replies, shaking his head.

Samuel clears his throat, obviously wanting an introduction. “I’m Samuel Watkins. Steffy’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, I’ve heard about you.” Wesley replies in his smooth accent which sounds funny in succession to Sam’s Californian accent. “Wesley James,” He says, offering his hand. “good to meet you, man.”

Samuel shakes his hand and looks at me, a questioning look on his face. I open my mouth to tell him that Wesley’s just my friend from Chemistry - friend from Chemistry who I’ve kissed - but I’m interrupted by the sound of a little girl’s voice.

“Wesy?” She says, suddenly at the table, tugging on her brother’s t-shirt.

Wesley sighs, looking down at his sister, “Yes, Adeline?”

Adeline is probably the cutest little kid I’ve ever seen in my entire life. She looks pretty young, but she can apparently talk pretty well, so I’m guessing she’s probably around four, maybe five years old. She has long blonde hair and blue eyes - totally the opposite of Wesley. The little girl has on a pair of blue jeans, a pink t-shirt and a tiny pink pair of little kid Toms. Her hair is pulled back into a long French braid that goes down her back. Is it weird that I already think she’s gonna be the one everyone hates when she gets to high school? Just because she’s so pretty. And this is before puberty. Oh, I’m so weird.

“I want ice cream!” She exclaims.

“I’ll get you some ice cream in a little bit, okay?”

“Aiden says we can’t get ice cream,” Adeline informs her brother. “Aiden says we have to get fro-yo.”

At the mention of his name, a little boy who I assume to be Aiden, runs over to Adeline and Wesley and says, “We do! I don’t want ice cream!”

Aiden is really adorable too, and nearly the spitting imagine of Wesley. Aside from the hair that is. He has his brother’s deep green eyes and his hair is somewhere between brown and a dirty blonde. How that is, I don’t know. But it’s adorable. He has on a pair of blue jeans, a red polo t-shirt and a pair of those tiny little kid Sperry’s. The denim over his knee are covered in dirt as well. That doesn’t surprise me though; little boys are rough when they play.

“Well, how about this? I’ll get you,” He looks at his sister, “ice cream. And Aiden, I’ll get you fro-yo.”

“Okay,” The two little kids both chorus. They are seriously adorable.

“Sorry for the interruption; just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you two later then, I guess.”

“Wait,” I say, suddenly backing out on telling Samuel. “We like ice cream and fro-yo.”

“Oh, you wanna come with?” Wesley asks.

“No, that’s fi--“ Samuel starts, but I interrupt him.

“Of course we do,” I say, standing up. “You two could be great friends!” I exclaim.  

“So, what were you saying?” Sam wonders, copying my motions and standing to his feet.

“Oh, uh, nothing. I-I’ll tell you later.” I say, thankful for Wesley distracting us.

“So, I’ve got two booster seats in my truck, so y’all wanna just meet at Pistachio’s?” Wesley asks us.

“Pistachio’s?” I echo, confused.

“Oh, that’s the name of the dairy parlor ‘round here.” He explains.

“What a cool name for a dairy shop.” Samuel retorts sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah, we’ll just follow you there.” I say, disregarding my boyfriend’s comment.

Wesley nods, “Sounds good.” Then he leans down, scooping up his twin siblings, one in each arm.

Wesley walks off to his blue truck, carefully securing Aiden and Adeline in, while Samuel grumpily stomps off to his rental car, and I follow him. He gets in the driver’s seat, slamming the door so hard behind him, I’m surprised the glass in the window doesn’t shatter. I sigh and walk around the passenger side, getting in, already knowing what’s coming.

“What the hell was that?” He wonders, starting the car and following closely behind Wesley.

“I like ice cream,” I quietly defend.

“I thought you wanted to talk? And you didn’t finish telling me what happened with that Ben dude.”

“I know,” I nod. “I do wanna talk. Let’s finish later. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Sam sighs and pushes down on the gas, the fender of the BMW nearly grazing the bumper of Wesley’s truck.

“Sam, Jesus, slow down; you’re about to ram into Wesley,” I scold.

“And what’s up with him? You didn’t tell me about him.”

“I didn’t?”

Sam shakes his head, tightening his grasp on the wheel. “Nope,” He says shortly.

“I thought I did. Anyways, he’s just a friend, Sam. He’s the one I went to the carnival with.”

“So, like a date?”

“No, not like a date.” I reject, rolling my eyes. “Other people were with us.”

“Listen,” Sam says as we stop at a red stoplight. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just hard being so far away.”

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter, crossing my arms across my chest.

“So, you gonna tell me why you suddenly wanted to get ice cream with this guy and his siblings?”

“No, not really.” I admit as we continue behind Wesley’s truck.

“Does he have anything to do with what you were telling me about the party?”

“No, but he does have something to do with what I’m gonna tell you after that.” I divulge, looking out of the window.

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” I whisper, knowing he can’t hear me, biting down on my lower lip as I feel tears spring to my eyes.

I’m not gonna cry.

I’m not gonna cry.

I’m not gonna cry.

“Are you crying?” Samuel queries, looking at me out of his peripheral vision.

Shaking my head, I wipe a few stray tears from my face. “No! Why would I be crying? It’s just allergies.”

“You don’t have allergies…”

“Yes, I do.” I insist.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” I mutter.

“Bu-“

“Oh, look!” I exclaim as Wesley pulls into the lot of the dairy shop. “We’re here!”

I thank every God in the sky for our arrival at this very moment and then Sam and I get out of the BMW then we’re joined by Wesley, Adeline and Aiden. The five of us go in and take a table in the back, Sam excusing himself to go to the bathroom. I know he’s pissed at me right now, Sam is, but at least he doesn’t hate me.

Not yet anyway. 

Author's Note: So, I didn't mean to post this a day early, but I did anyways, because I realized it was Thursday AFTER I posted it and deleting it would be stupid. So, yeah. Anyways though, I hope you liked this chapter! I know she's kinda lagging on telling Samuel, but patience, m'dears. Do you guys like him? In the early chapters you guys weren't too fond of him for some oddball reason, haha. Oh, well. Happy Thusday! I'll see you guys Tuesday! Don't forget to let me know what you thought of the chapter in a comment. Also, that's Landon Liboiron over there, Samuel. --------------> ♥