Sam took a deep breath, and sighed before opening her English book. It was the third hour of the day, and they were working on chapter six. Comprehension and critical thinking. She had never felt more enthusiastic to learn.
She was exhausted. The past few days had taken a toll on her both mentally, and physically. Her body felt the soreness of it whenever she moved. She had at least a good five, or six hours to herself before she had to worry, or think about Jack again. She planned on using it to the fullest to enjoy the peace.
Opening her notebook, she lifted her pen to write her name at the top of the page when suddenly there was a knock upon the classroom door. Lifting her head curiously, Sam watched as her teacher Mr. Rydell went to answer it.
The vice principal of the school was standing hesitantly at the door. While several students looked on with interest, he leaned in to quietly have a word with the teacher.
They spoke briefly in hushed tones that were too low for anyone to hear, and when they were finished, both of them lifted their heads to glance in Sam's direction.
Baffled by their attention, a small frown knitted her brows, and then her teacher beckoned her forward with a solemn expression plastered across his thin face. "We would like to have a word, Miss Bertram."
Sam hesitantly stood up from her desk. She had barely taken a step when Mr. Palmer, the vice principal, spoke up. "You might want to bring your things, Samantha." he told her quietly.
His words only made her confusion increase. Reaching to gather her things from the desk top, she quickly made her way down the aisle. When she reached them her apprehension was apparent. "Is something wrong?" she asked nervously.
Urging her to follow them, they stepped into the hallway. When Mr. Palmer turned to her, he seemed momentarily at a loss. His soft, brown eyes grew slightly pained, and his gaze dropped to the floor as he attempted to clear his throat.
"I'm sorry to be the one to impart this news, Miss Bertram. It seems that there has been a death in your family."
Sam's heart immediately began to pound. "Oh my God," she whispered.
"We're very sorry," Mr. Palmer told her sympathetically. "It's your grandmother."
Sam's hand lifted to her mouth in dismay as the news washed over her. It took her a moment to gather herself enough to ask. "What happened?"
They both appeared helpless as they looked at her. Finally, Mr. Palmer raised a comforting hand to her shoulder before he responded. "I'm unfamiliar with the details, but a family member has arrived to take you home. If you would like to stop at your locker to retrieve anything, I'll take you there now so that you can go."
Unsure of what to say, Sam could only nod before turning to follow Mr. Palmer down the hall. She walked to her locker feeling completely stunned. Her nana was old, but not old enough for something like this to occur.
She was still vibrant, and brimming with tenacity. What could have happened to snuff that out? The news was too fresh for her to react properly. She didn't feel the urge to cry. She only had a sick, empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.
For a brief moment her mind drifted to Jack. The suspicion was there, but didn't take full root because it didn't make any sense. He had no reason to hurt her grandmother. She hadn't run from him, or told anyone of his existence. He couldn't be responsible for this. It just wouldn't make any sense.
It didn't stop her mind from suspecting him anyways. If he had done this, or had anything to do with it whatsoever, despite the danger involved she really would try to kill him.
Sam shoved her book, and notepad into her locker. Then she lifted her jacket from the small hook inside, and slipped her arms into it. Mr. Palmer waited patiently beside her as she put it on. Once it was in place, she turned, and side by side they made their way down the hall towards the office.
Mr. Palmer entered first, and she was close behind him as they stepped over the soft, grey carpeting into the small lobby area where the secretaries sat. Turning her head, Sam's blue eyes widened when she spotted Jack sitting in one of the seats in the waiting area. He had his arms across his chest, and was absently biting his thumbnail as he looked up at her.
Mr. Palmer approached him as Sam stood near the doorway in shock. "Again, I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Bertram. If we can do anything to help, please don't hesitate to call us."
Pulling himself to his feet, Jack reached out a hand to shake Mr. Palmer's. His expression was grim. "Thank you," he replied politely. "The next few days are going to be difficult for all of us. I appreciate your willingness to excuse Samantha from class so that she can be where she is needed most."
With another solemn nod, Mr. Palmer turned to look at her where she stood. Her expression was stricken. "Miss Bertram?" he asked in concern.
She hadn't taken her eyes off of Jack since entering the room, but when the vice principal gently spoke her name, her horrified gaze veered towards the older man.
"Ready to go?" Jack asked with a twitch of his lips.
Sam didn't respond. She continued to stare at Mr. Palmer as if willing him to understand what a farce this was.
Jack took a step forward, placed his hand on her shoulder, and rubbed it in a soothing gesture. His dark eyes peered towards Mr. Palmer while he made a show of comforting her. "Don't worry," he told him reassuringly. "I'll take care of her."
Sam gaped at Mr. Palmer in dismay as Jack gently turned her, and urged her to leave the room by maneuvering her towards the door. Once they were in the hall, Sam peered up at him in astonishment as her blue eyes widened further.
"You really are crazy. You know that?" she whispered in amazement.
Smirking down at her, Jack shrugged. "I was bored. I didn't feel like waiting."
Sam's expression turned to one of disgust. "You decided to traumatize me because you were bored?"
Jack rolled his eyes as he grabbed the sleeve of her jacket, and began pulling her down the hall. "You knew as soon as you saw me that it didn't really happen. You experienced five minutes of trauma at best. You'll be alright."
"What are you doing here, Jack?" Sam whispered nervously.
Releasing her, Jack paused at the end of the hall, and turned to look down at her. "I told you. I was bored. I didn't feel like waiting until the end of the day to see you. So, I decided to come get you instead. Worked pretty well," he said with a smirk.
Sam shook her head at his audacity. "So, what now?" she asked in bewilderment.
He tilted his head quickly towards the door. "Come on. Lets get the hell out of here."
***
Smoke escaped his mouth before he leaned forward to put his cigarette out. "God, I don't envy you. Just sitting there waiting for them to go get you reminded me of how much I hated school. You should thank me for breaking you out," he said with a grin.
Sam popped a gummi bear into her mouth as she watched a few cars pass by. "Thanks for being crazy, and freeing me from third hour English," she said in amusement. "Fridays they whip us with rulers."
Turning his head to look at her, he lifted a brow. "Hot," he replied.
After leaving the school, they had stopped at a gas station, and Jack had filled the Dodge with gas before going inside to pay. On his return, he'd hopped back inside of the car, and had tossed her a package of gummi bears. When she had turned to look at him questioningly, he smiled before inquiring, "What? I thought kids liked candy?"
Rolling her eyes, Sam had opened the box, and had begun eating them. She didn't offer him any. She was still annoyed with his antics.
Afterwards, he had driven to a small department store, and pulled into the parking lot. Finding an empty space in the middle of it, he shut off the engine, and lit a cigarette.
"Are we going shopping, or something?" she asked as she chewed.
"No," he replied before leaning back into the seat.
"Then why are we here?" she wondered in confusion.
"We're making a drug deal," he informed her while he stretched.
