If I Had A Choice - Abigail Livinghouse (great novels of all time txt) 📗

Kelly or Jasmine.

 

"Can I come in?" He asked.

 

There mustn't be anyone patrolling the halls right now. It was after dinner and time for showers, so that was probably where all the "camp counselors" were.

 

"Sure." I responded.

 

Sam cracked open the door, sticking his head inside my room before inching all the way in and closing the door behind him. He was the picture of calm, emotionless. His blue eyes giving off no hint of how he was feeling, if he was feeling anything at all. He made his way over to my bed and sat down a good five feet away from me, almost on the edge. Sam looked me up and down, as if he was searching for any changes. Maybe he thought William, Chelsea, Alexander, or Circa had hurt me in the time I was mending their injuries. A flash of anger burned my chest suddenly as I watched him appraise me, but the feeling passed as quickly and unexpectedly as it had come.

 

"Are you okay?" Sam asked the same question again, only worded differently. I nodded.

 

"Of course I am." I gave him the same generic answer he was looking for.

 

I allowed myself to stare at his face for a few seconds longer than usual, searching for a sign of emotion or something to say he was listening, or actually interested in how I was doing, and not just being polite. I found nothing of course, and he wouldn't meet my eyes. In all the years I had known Sam, he never let me read his thoughts. I never knew why, and I had never asked. It was just something with him. It hadn't ever bothered me like it did now all of a sudden, and I kept staring at him, willing him to look me in the eyes.

 

Instead of giving me what I wanted, he kept his eyes fixated on the window past my shoulder, looking out to the garden that was tended by hired landscapers. And his gaze stayed there, even as he spoke.

 

"I just wanted to check up on you, to see if you were okay after . . ." Sam didn't finish his sentence and I knew why.

 

We didn't speak about Eliot's doings, not openly anyway. Usually it was during hushed conversations late at night. Not right now, in the middle of the evening. Except I wasn't in the mood to keep quiet. After what had happened today I was furious. At Eliot for hurting teenagers who had done absolutely nothing to him. At Kelly for sadistically enjoying the pain her brother inflicted on them. At Jasmine, for going belly up and obeying Eliot, doing absolutely nothing to help the people bleeding on the floor at her feet. And I was even furious at Sam, for completely ignoring what had happened and being daringly stupid enough to come into my room and ask if I was alright, when he damn well knew that I wasn't. I looked at Sam, at his dull blue eyes still not meeting mine, and I felt the fury slowly building up. It traveled hot and heavy from my chest and into my throat before it spilled out of my mouth.

 

"After what Sam? Eliot's attack on Circa and William? Don't act so stupid. You and I both know what happened. Why don't you just say it?" I snapped.

 

Sam blinked, and finally his eyes went to my face, shock and surprise breaking through his carefully composed mask. The first emotions I had seen in him since he entered my room. I had never spoken to him like this. Even I was a bit shaken by the cutting edge and coldness of my voice, but now that I had started talking I couldn't stop. The words just kept on coming, angry, hurt, and damaging.

 

"If you really gave a shit about me then you wouldn't have left me alone to help people I didn't even know. You would've helped me. You would've been there for me."

 

I was beginning to sound like a whiny kid telling their parent that it wasn't fair they couldn't get the toy they wanted. At the moment though I really didn't care. I was a relatively calm person. I didn't lose my shit often, but now that I was I couldn't seem to stop myself from continuing. I was coasting an a high wave of anger, and it just kept taking me further and further out to sea. Eventually I would drown, and again I really didn't care.

 

"Do you know what Eliot did to them? He nearly killed them, Sam. They would've died on the floor if it wasn't for me and the others from their group. Don't you realize that?" I paused to take a breath, and Sam took this opportunity to speak before I could go on.

 

"We can't afford to risk our lives for the life of a stranger. I though you understood that." His tone had hardened. It wasn't completely detached as it had been.

 

I took a small bit of satisfaction in the fact that I had finally evoked a reaction out of him, even if it wasn't what I had wanted. I wanted him to say he understood what I was getting at and that he was sorry. Obviously I wasn't going to get that. I swallowed, the anger leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I wasn't done yet either.

 

"You should try giving a damn about someone other than yourself for once. It would make you look semi human." I quipped, knowing that I had gone too far.

 

Sam's blue eyes narrowed, looking like two thin pieces of ice. I drew back, readying for what was to come. It would not be good, but I deserved it. This was the reaction I was going to get, the one that I stirred into breaking through the surface. 

 

"I give a damn about you, Siena. I always have. If I didn't, I wouldn't give you the time of day. Do you see me talking to anyone here besides you?"

 

He gave me a seconds pause to answer before he kept going. "You don't, because I only risk my own well-being for you. I care about you probably more than I should, more than I care about my safety. Who was there for you when Eliot had you on your knees writhing in pain, all because you didn't call him Master? I've been by your side since you arrived at the house as a timid little fourteen year old who had no clue who she really was and what she was doing here."

 

It felt like each one of his words was being shoved down my throat, settling roughly in my stomach, turning into a fist, and snatching at my insides. With every word that fell down into my gut, the hand squeezed tighter, gripped, and clawed. It was so bad for a moment I was sure I was going to be sick right there with Sam sitting next to me, staring accusingly and waiting for an answer to his questions.

 

I swallowed, willing the horrible feeling away and meeting Sam's anguished eyes, hurt because of me. For a moment, I felt as if I was in free-fall. That moment when you jump off of a point of great height, and you're just falling weightlessly for a few flawless seconds before it's over.

 

I came to an abrupt stop and was once again looking at Sam's face. I shivered, but he didn't notice my discomfort. He started up again.

 

"What are you doing, Siena? Stop. Stop!"

 

"Stop what?" I asked, but I realized the terrible certainty the answer before I even asked him. I was reading Sam's thoughts.

 

I never wanted this, you know that. Get out. Get out. Get out! Siena leave now.

 

The fear was rolling off of Sam in waves, hitting me full force. He must have lost control of his ability and was unintentionally influencing my emotions. The fist in my stomach had let up and instead was in my chest, squeezing my heart, making it pound out a frantic rhythm of terror that wasn't even mine.

 

Please Siena, please. I'm begging you stop. Please.

 

The last please was a moan, and Sam's face crumpled in sadness. His blue eyes widened and filled with tears that quickly spilled over and rushed down his cheeks. Before I knew it, he had his face buried in my shoulder and I had my arms around him, consoling him while he sobbed.

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Publication Date: 09-12-2013

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