"Wait, what are you doing?" Sam asked as he pulled away.
"I told her about last night. Sam, I don't know if you wanted to tell her, or if you were even going to. But I couldn't sleep last night, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight with this weighing down on my conscience. And I don't need a repeat of today's awkward lunch scenario occurring every day. I couldn't let her leave without telling her," I explained in a rush, for some reason hoping desperately that he wouldn't be mad.
"And she wasn't mad or anything?" He asked. I could see the wheels turning inside his head.
"No. She was actually thinking about breaking up with you today anyway. She some how knew that this would happen sooner or later, that it was inevitable--according to her. And also, she sort of lost interest in dating you. Not to say that you're boring, but that she just..." Sam put his finger to my lips.
"Nikki, you're babbling."
"Sorry... I do that when I'm not sure how to feel. I just keep talking and talking and I'm doing it again, aren't I?" He nodded at me, the look in his eyes saying I know all about that. I couldn't make out the emotion expression on his face. He wasn't smiling, he didn't look happy or angry or upset in the least.
"So, now what? Do we wait an appropriate amount of time or something?" He asked.
"Well, from past experience, you wait however long it takes until you feel okay from the break up... If you need a day or two, that's--" I never got to say what "that" was. Sam put his lips to mine in a kiss as strong and long as the very first one.
Regrettably, it ended in a more uncomfortable fashion.
I heard a key shoved into the lock outside in the hallway, and the handle jiggling as someone twisted it. By the time I recognized what the sound was, however, my dad had already opened the door.
I pulled away from Sam in shock, trying to register just what was going on.
"Oh, Nikki, I didn't think you'd be home right now," he said. His cheeks were flushed underneath his unshaven face.
"Gee, dad. It's four o'clock. I'm always home by now; school gets out at two forty-five. You should know that, I've only been going there for the last two years!" I didn't know why my voice was rising, but it could've had something to do with the fact that I haven't heard from him in several months and I was angry with him.
"I just thought you'd be at a friend's house. I see it's the other way around, though," he said, glancing at Sam. He wasn't shouting back, and that only made me angrier.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. My voice was as sharp as the knife that pierced me in December, and I hoped it cut him just as bad.
"I came to drop off the key and retrieve a few of my things I left here," he explained quietly. "I heard about what happened in December... I would've called, but I didn't have a phone yet, and coming over didn't seem right."
"That's comforting, dad. Really." He ignored me.
"Nikki, dear, can I talk with you, since you're here? I've missed you terribly."
"I'm right here. Talk."
"I was hoping I could talk with you alone, so I could apologize, and maybe explain what happened." His brown eyes were tearing up, and his graying hair was curling around the edge of his cap.