Chapter 15: It Really, Really Sucked

“So, that’s your boyfriend?” Wesley asks, a pointed look on his face.

“For the time being,” I nod.

“What’d you mean by that?”

“Just that we’re probably gonna break up pretty soon,” I shrug.

He raises an eyebrow, “What, you can predict that kinda stuff in the pretty little head of yours?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “No, I’m just pretty certain he’s gonna break up with me.”

“What’s he doing here anyway? I thought you said he was in Puerto Rico?”

“He was,” I nod. “He came and surprised me this morning though. Totally out of the blue.”

“Oooh,” Wesley says with a indulgent nod. “Does he know…you know about last night?”

“Nope, not yet. I was about to tell him before you and these adorable kids came over.”

“Oh, sorry,” He retorts with a guilty look.

“Don’t be,” I assure him. “Thank you, actually. I’m kinda dreading tell him.”

“How come?” Wesley inquisitively wonders.

“Because you and me kissing isn’t the only thing I have to tell him,” I admit.

“No? So what else?”

“You’re friends with Ben, aren’t you?”

“Mhm, I am.”

“Well,” I sigh. “I’m just gonna say this and don’t judge me, okay?”

“Okay, Chris Brown, I won’t judge you.” He teases.

“Who knew you knew who Chris Brown was?” I retort jokingly.

“Hardy har, I listen to music, you know.” Wesley replies. “Now, what were you saying?”

“Okay, so at Laurel’s party Ben and I kinda…you know.” I tell him, letting my voice trail off.

Wesley blinks twice and then a confused expression appears, “What do you mean?”

Eyeing his oblivious twin siblings, I say, “Don’t make me say it.”

“You and Ben had sex?” He asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.

“Wesley!” I say, hitting his arm across the table. “Children are right here!”

He shrugs, “They’ve heard the word sex before; don’t you watch TV?”

Giggling, I nod, “I guess that’s true.”

“So, yeah? You really slept with Ben at Laurel’s party?”

“I really did,” I confirm. “And I’m not proud of it, but I did do it.”

“Do you like him?”

Why does everyone think you have to like a guy just because of a hookup?!

“Only as a friend,” I truthfully tell him.

“And he knows none of this?” He asks, gesturing his head to the bathrooms where Samuel is.

“I thought it’d be kinda heartless to tell him over the phone,” I murmur.

“That would be really horrible.”

“So, I’m just gonna wait until later and tell him. He’ll hate me and then he’ll leave.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Wesley argues.

“You don’t know him like I do, Wesley,” I remind him. “That’s the kinda person he is.”

“Well, I guess I can’t say since I don’t personally know the guy, but he seems cool.”

“He is,” I agree. “he just has, like, trust issues.”

“Does he really?”

“No, but he acts like it,” I retort.

“Who acts like what?” Samuel asks, coming back to the table and sitting beside me.

“Erm, no one.” I say. “Just this play at school we’re doing.”

“I didn’t know you were doing a play,” Sam says, checking his Michael Kors watch.

“Oh, I’m not.” I retort. “I’m just, um, I’m just working on the set.”

“Oh, that’s cool. What play?”

“Pardon?”

“The play, which one are you guys doing?”

“Oh, they’re doing High School Musical.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s stupid.” Sam voices.

“Sam,” I scold.

“What? It is. That’s a play you’d expect a middle school or something to put on.”

“It’s actually pretty berries,” Wesley disagrees. “Last year they did Tangled. Pretty cool.”

“Is that supposed to be some kinda dysphemism or something?” Samuel wonders.

“Euphemism, actually.” Wesley politely corrects. “A dysphemism means, like, rude.”

“Well, this is fun,” I interrupt as I sense Samuel about to say something offensive.

“Wesy! I want mint chocolate chip ice cream,” Adeline whines, slapping her brother’s arm.

“Okay, Addy.” Wesley says, standing up. “What do you want, bud?” He asks Aiden.

“Strawberry yogurt!” He exclaims.

“Alright, what about you two?” Wesley asks Sam and me.

“We’ll get it when you come back, thanks.” Sam says in a snarky tone.

“Alright, I’ll only be a second,” He tells us before going up to the register.

“Samuel, seriously stop being so mean to him.”

“I’m not being mean to him! I just don’t like him.”

“Why not? He’s a really nice guy.”

Samuel scoffs, “Yeah, I’m sure he’s really nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand, crossing my arms.

“Is he your friend or something? Like you two hang out?”

“What if we do? Why do you care?”

“Because I just do. I’m your boyfriend; it’s my job to care.”

“Well, you care too much. I don’t care what girls you hang out with in Puerto Rico.”

“I didn’t hang out with any girls in Puerto Rico! I’m here in Tennessee with you, aren’t I? That should prove to you how much I care about you, Steffy. I could have ended things when I found out you were broke and I didn’t, because that’s shallow as fuck. If that doesn’t show you how much I love you, then I don’t know what the hell will.”

“You’re being ridiculous and you’re being overdramatic, Sam.” I retort. “And stop swearing in front of them!” I add, referring to Adeline and Aiden who’re totally oblivious to our fight.

“I love how you never said if he was your friend or what.” He sarcastically remarks.

“Yes! He’s my friend, Sam, that’s it!”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I’m sure. What’re you trying to say?”

He shrugs carelessly, “I’m just saying that you know how you are.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t know how I am, so please, Samuel, enlighten me.”

“You’re naïve, Stef, and it doesn’t take much for you to fall for stupid stuff.”

“So now I’m dumb?”

“Did I say that?” He asks with an irritated frown.

“You practically implied it.” I mutter.

“I’m back,” Wesley announces, coming back to the table and giving the ice cream and yogurt to his sister and brother before slipping back into the booth. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing worth relaying,” I say, shaking my head.

“Okay then,” He nods, then looks at Sam. “So, Steffy says you went to Puerto Rico?”

✈✈✈✈

“How come we fight so much now?” Samuel wonders a few hours later, as we lie in my small twin-sized be together.

“I dunno,” I sigh. “Probably because we never see each other anymore.” I suggest.

“You really think that’s why?”

“Maybe.” I murmur with a shrug.

“Well, I’ll be here for a week so we’ve got plenty time to see each other.” He chirps.

“Yeah,” I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I guess so.”

I hear Samuel quietly sigh and he shifts in the bed, looking at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Remember earlier when I was about to tell you that thing I wanted to tell you?”

“Oh, yeah, you never got to tell me what you wanted to because of that annoying guy.”

“Wesley’s not annoying,” I roll my eyes. “He’s actually a really nice guy.”

“Whatever. Okay, tell me what you wanted to.”

“Don’t hate me after,” I warn.

“Steffy, I don’t care what you did; I’m not going to hate you.”

“Promise me.”

“St--“

“Promise!” I exclaim in a quiet whisper so my grandmother doesn’t hear me talking.

“Okay, fine, I promise I won’t get mad, Stephanie. Just tell me.”

“So, I think I was telling you about Ben.”

“Yeah, the guy you were dancing with.” Samuel supplies in a bitter tone.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush with it; I had sex with him.” I blurt suddenly.

Sam sits up in the bed quicker than the speed of light, his eyes wide as he stares at me, bewildered. A look a sadness, disappointment and anger all wash over his face at the same time and he whispers in a cold voice, “What?”

“At that party, I had sex with Ben,” I repeat, swallowing the lump in my throat nervously.

“That’s not a funny joke, Stephanie.”

“It’s not supposed to be funny and it’s not a joke.”

“So, you’re telling me you had sex with some hillbilly you’ve known for less than a week?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I guess so.”

“That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard in my life. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I open and close my mouth a few times, which probably makes me look like a fish, trying to find the right words to say in this situation. I try to force words out, but nothing comes out. Instead my heart starts thumping in my chest at an accelerated pace and my hands get clammy. Samuel is the only person in the whole world who can make me feel inferior. Not my grandmother, not my mother, not my father, not Spencer, not any of my new friends or old friends. Sam’s the only one.

“Sam, I’m--“ I try, but I’m quickly cut off.

“You are literally the most abhorrent person on this planet. And because you’re so damn stupid, you probably don’t even know what abhorrent means, right?” He asks.

I don’t know what abhorrent means, actually, but I don’t admit that. Instead I just sit there, astounded by the words he’s throwing at me as if he’s not my boyfriend or something.

“Of course you don’t. Well, it means repulsive, gross, vile, revolting, awful, nauseating, sickening. Are you absorbing this in that pea sized brain of yours? I can’t believe you, Stephanie. We haven’t been together a whole year! Do you know that while I was in Puerto Rico, sexy Puerto Rican chicks were practically throwing themselves at me? Huh? I had the chance to have sex with all of them about eleven different times, but I didn’t. You know why? Because I have a girlfriend. I have someone who I love already. Someone who I’m supposed to be able to trust! Someone who’s supposed to love me back! But no, while I’m in Puerto Rico, resisting the temptation of fucking half the female population, what are you doing? You’re here slutting it up these damn country bumpkins!” He’s shouting now.

That’s not good because no one knows he’s here. Well, aside from Spencer since he was the one to give him directions, but my parents and grandma don’t know. I don’t think it’ll take too long for them to realize it now though.

“Sam, please stop shou--“

“Shut up! I’m not done.” He screams.

I immediately clamp my mouth shut, obeying his command. Samuel never yells at me. Or shouts or anything like that. He’s always really calm and kinda passive aggressive. Whenever we fight, it’s usually insinuated by me, and he always lets me win.

Even when I’m wrong.

He hops up off of the bed, pacing the small room. “So, what else? You fucked that Wesley guy too? I wouldn’t put it past you. You know, maybe I’m an idiot. Maybe I’m stupid for thinking that you could be a decent human being and remain faithful to me.” He says, clenching his fists and then unclenching them a few times as he walks down the floor of my bedroom. Sam walks to one end and stops in front of the wall, raising his fist to the pale painted wall.

“Sam, what’re you doing?” I ask shakily, my voice trembling.

He doesn’t reply, instead he slams his fist through the wall, leaving a huge hole there. My jaw falls and I gasp, staring at the crumpled piece of wall. Samuel’s chest starts heaving as do his shoulders.

Sam walks over to me, leaning down next to me, so that we’re on the same eye level. My voice is coming out in pants and I honestly think that this is the only time I’ve ever been scared of a boy. He roughly grabs the collar of my shirt, pulling me up so that I’m standing up. Samuel stands back up towering over my small body. He’s about six foot four inches, I think. So, yes, he does stand tall over my five foot three inch height.

He holds the collar of my shirt still bunched up in his hand, not letting go. His breath is blowing over my face, and it smells faintly of marijuana smoke. Sure, I know that Samuel occasionally gets high, but I didn’t think he would today. He isn’t high right now though, I know that. Whenever Sam’s stoned, he usually gets the giggles, falls asleep and then wakes up wanting to eat everything and anything sweet that he can get his hands on.

“You know what, Steffy? You’re such a pathetic piece of shit. I don’t know why I deal with you. Actually, I do know why. Because I love you. Obviously though, you don’t love me.”

“I do love you, Sam,” I whine.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have done that, Steffy.” He shouts in my face.

The closeness of his face to mine, the anger etched in his features it’s too much. Like I said, he’s never been this pissed at me. Yes, he has good reason to be, but he never is. I don’t even know what the heck to do to make this even remotely better.

“T-think about if it was reversed; I’d forgive you.” I treacherously say. “Remember Australia?”

That makes him laugh. Laugh as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Yeah, you would forgive me. I know that. But not before giving me a shit load of hell, you wouldn’t. And we both know that. Besides, this is not the same as Australia, it’s way worse.”

“How is it worse? We both cheated!” I cry.

“It’s worse because before you went to that party you accused me of doing it, when I wasn’t.”

“Sam, I said I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what more you want from me.” I desperately plea.

He scoffs, “I don’t want shit from you.”

“Yo--“

“In fact, I never wanna have to see your face again. Give me back my AmEx.” He suddenly says.

“Huh?”

“My AmEx, give it back. You can fucking die of starvation here for all I care.” Samuel spits.

I reach down into my pocket and retrieve the platinum credit card, handing it to him. He snatches it from me, slipping it down into his Louis Vuitton wallet. Samuel slips the wallet back into his pocket, still firmly holding the collar of my shirt.

“I hate you, Stephanie Elizabeth Vandergeld, I really fucking hate you.”

“You promised you wouldn’t,” I remind him, tears filling my eyes.

“That’s before I knew you were a dirty slut.” He reasons. “In case this wasn’t implied- we’re over.” 

“We can get past it, Samuel! I know we can. If we can get past Australia, this is nothing.”

“Stop trying to make me feel guilty!” Sam roars.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty!” I cry, even though I am. What else am I supposed to do?

“Stop fucking crying. You did this to yourself. I can’t believe I even thought you were mature enough to handle this. You deserve this, you know? You deserve to live in this pathetic little house with your pathetic family. I hope your dad never gets his money back. You were such a bitch to everyone in L.A. This is karma, Steffy, and it’s kicking your ass. And you know what? My mom did want me to break up with you. She never liked you. I guess because you’re shallow slut. I know you think I’m overreacting, but I’m not. The fact that you cheated on me with someone you don’t even know and then lied about it for days is beyond sordid. Sordid means disgusting. Y--“

“Stop talking to me like I’m stupid,” I demand. “I’m not stupid.”

“Yeah, you are stupid. You are an idiot. I know middle school drops out smarter than you.”

“You’re being really mean, Samuel,” I say as the tears threaten to spill over.

“Because you cheating on me wasn’t, ‘really mean’.” He sarcastically states.

“Well, maybe if you were a better boyfriend, I wouldn’t have felt the need to sleep with Ben.”

“Maybe if I was a better boyfriend?” He echoes. “Maybe if you weren’t a dirty whore, you wo--“

I reach up and slam my palm across Sam’s face, leaving a light red mark there. My eyes immediately go wide after I realize what I’ve done. I didn’t mean to hit him; it was more like a knee jerk reaction to being called a ‘dirty whore’. I swallow the lump in my throat as Sam’s pupils dilate and the iris of his eyes narrow. His mouth twitches - something he subconsciously does when he’s mad - and he drops the bunched up fabric from his hand, and instead grabs my wrist in his hand.

The next thing I feel is the impact of his hand slapping across my face, basically knocking the breath out of me. The severeness of the hit make me fall hard on the hardwood floor and Sam fumingly goes over to the wall, eliciting another angry punch in it, leaving another hole next to the one he’d already imprinted. I think he probably wishes he could have punched me instead of the wall, but he wouldn’t take it that far.

The door flies open and my eyes immediately flicker to it. I see my brother standing there with a curious look on his face. His eyes land on me on the ground and he instantaneously rushes over to me, kneeling down.

“Steffy, what the hell happened?” He demands, brushing his hand over the bruised skin.

“I--“

“Did you hit her?” Spencer asks, looking up at Sam who’s still fuming by the wall. “Did you fucking hit my sister, Watkins?”

“She hit me first,” He explains.

“I don’t give a damn if she runs you over with a car, you don’t hit my sister.” Spencer tells him, standing to his feet and walking over to Sam. Without another word, Spencer throws a sharp punch at him, and I hear the soft crunch of bones. I think that was Sam’s nose Spencer just broke.

I gasp involuntarily, pulling myself up from the ground and standing up just as Samuel punches my brother in his stomach, eliciting a groan from him. Spencer recoils by slamming Samuel into the holed up wall, continuously punching him in his face. I rush over to them, grabbing my brother’s arm, trying to pull him away from Samuel, who he’s trying to beat to a bloody pulp.

“Spencer, stop!” I cry, knowing he’s way too strong for to pull off of Samuel. “Please, stop!”

“Spencer Vandergeld, you stop right now.” My father loudly bellows as he swaggers into the room, pulling my brother off of Samuel effortlessly. He’s followed by my mother who has a pain-stricken expression on her face and my grandmother wearing her ever-present grimace.

Well, this is going to be a long night.

✈✈✈✈

“You sure you’re alright?” Spencer asks, still holding the ice pack to my face a few hours later.

“I’m okay,” I nod. “and this ice pack is giving me hypothermia to the face,” I complain.

“Sorry,” He says, removing it. “how’s it feel?”

“The emotional toil or my face?”

“The latter, Stef.” Spencer answers, not trace of amusement.

“Oh, well, it hurts.” I bluntly tell him. “I’m gonna go to sleep though. I’m tired.” I say.

“Okay, good night.” He says, kissing the top of my head. “I love you munchkin.”

“And I love you more when you don’t call me that,” I say, standing up.

For as long as I can remember until I was about thirteen, maybe fourteen years old, Spencer would call me munchkin, and I hated it then just like I hate it now. It’s a stupid nickname.

Spencer chuckles and says, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning,” I reply, walking out of his room, across the hall back into my own.

I close the door softly behind me and sit down on my bed, letting the tears fall that I’ve been holding in since the Police got here about two hours ago and took Sam away. It wasn’t pleasant at all, watching my boyfriend - well, my ex-boyfriend - get Tased, hand-cuffed and forced into the back of a squad car. Before the Police car left though, he yelled out the window that he hopes I burn in Hell, so that was nice. My face still hurts from the extreme slap and I now know the area just below my eye is black.; it looks gross. I guess I’ll just stay in all day tomorrow and then cover it extensively with make-up Monday morning.

I pull back the covers of the tiny bed and lie down in it, not even bothering to change into my sleepwear. I’m not even tired; I just lied to Spencer to get away from his prying eyes. When the Police left with Sam, he kinda pounced on me, making me go to his room while he tended to my face, trying to decrease the swelling with ice pack colder than the coldest lake in Alaska.

Well, at least I told Samuel the truth. I know that he hates me and apparently thinks I’m stupid, but the fact of the matter remains. I cheated on the one boy who truly loved me and I paid the price. The price sucked though.

It really, really sucked.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my green shorts and I reach underneath the cover, pulling it out. I know it’s not Sam because he’s probably still in that holding cell at the jail and therefore doesn’t have his phone. Unless his parents have bailed him out already, which is probably the case. Or maybe he called Jerry, his high-profile lawyer, to get him out. Either way, he’s not the one calling me and I need to accept the fact that I’ll probably never hear from him again. I peer down at my iPhone, seeing that I have a text message. I sigh and unlock the phone, bringing it closer to my face, and seeing that the message is from Ben.

 Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?

Nothing, why?  I reply, sending the message a few minutes later. My tears made the screen kinda hard to see.

Wanna hang out? We haven’t talked since the carnival.

You mean yesterday?

Yes, yesterday. What do you say? Wanna hang out?  He sends back, repeating his question.

It’s not like I’ve got anything to use and maybe my concealer will be strong enough to hide the hideous mark beneath my eye and if I’m lucky, the slap print will evade tonight while I’m asleep or something.

Sure, I guess.

Whoa, don’t get too excited. (;

I roll my eyes at his quirkiness and chuckle to myself.

Goodnight Benjamin. I reply, seeing that it’s already half past twelve a.m.

His reply comes not even ten seconds later; Goodnight Stephanie.

I sigh and lock my phone, pushing it up underneath my flat pillow. Then I yawn lightly, and yank the cover up over my head, trying to force sleep upon me. 

Author's Note: Aw. Sad, huh? Well, not really for those of you who never like Sam. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know in a comment, maybe? Don't forget to vote! Thoughts for the next chatper? Happy Tuesday, and also, I'm really excicted because tomorrow is my last day of school until August, which makes me really, really happy. Like, for real, I can't even explain how happy I am. So, yeah. Oh, and please notice the adorable cover/banner made by @nardia_85 over there to the right! And notice the song! Also, I'm thinking that updates may change from Tuesdays and Fridays to just Wednesdays or something; I dunno yet though. ♥ 

P.S. Any SLOTAT fans? I watched the finale last night and my heart broke into a bazillion million trillion pieces.