Instead they focused on kids like Chris, whose wealthy father wasn't about to let him fail, and Carla. Smart and self motivated, she was a rundown high school teacher's dream student. Academic achievement wasn't her only goal. Unlike Chris's dad, her father was not a multimillionaire who would be able to send Carla wherever she wanted to go to college. She knew the only way she was going anywhere in life was on the power of her own intelligence and hard work.
She could see how Sam, without anyone to push him would fall through the cracks and learn to rely on his looks and charm to get by. But that summer it seemed he realized he needed to buckle down and get to work if he wanted any real future. “I don't want to end up some forty-year-old loser, drifting around, trying to pick up women half my age like….” He trailed off, but Carla knew he was talking about his dad. “That's why after this summer, I'm enlisting in the army.”
The decision had shocked Carla. “Really? The army?” she asked, the disbelief evident in her voice.
She felt the muscles of his chest tense against the hand she rested on him. “What? You don't think I can do it?”
“It's just,” she'd started, her hand making small, soothing circles on his chest as she tried to form a tactful way to make her point, “isn't the army all about rules? You're not exactly the most by the book guy I know.”
He let out a soft chuckle and she felt him relax. “I can't really argue with that.”
“Especially not after they found it was you who took Mr. Ramsey's car joyriding and stuffed it full of packing peanuts.”
Sam let out another soft laugh and ran his hand up and down Carla's spine as she snuggled even closer. “That wasn't even the half of it. And the only reason I got caught was because Natalie Cushman ratted me out after I told her I wasn't going to take her to prom.”
At the time, Carla had felt a little pinch in her chest as she remembered the details of that story. Even as a freshman and a nerdy one at that, Carla would have had to be dead not to hear about what went down between those two. Natalie Cushman, who had been hooking up with Sam on and off all spring, had been so heartbroken when Sam had declared, in front of all five hundred students who had first period lunch, that he wasn't her boyfriend and he didn't do “stupid ass shit” like prom, that she'd immediately gone to Mr. Ramsey, the shop teacher, and told him that Sam was the one who had stolen his car back in February.
The reason she knew? Natalie had been with him.
“I always thought it was unfair that Natalie got off free and clear and you got suspended and had to do four weeks of summer school.”
Sam's strong pecs rippled against her cheek as he shrugged. “I was the one who did it. She was just along for the ride. Besides, I was such a dick to her about the prom I feel like I deserved it.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Want to know something? I kind of wanted to go to prom. But I didn't have the fifty bucks to buy one ticket, much less a couple hundred for the limo, the dinner, and all that other bullshit.”
The admission had made Carla's chest tight and brought the sting of tears to her eyes. It was one thing to realize someone was poor, but it was another to realize how that translated into normal everyday things like prom.
“I didn't go to prom either,” she whispered. “No one asked me.”
Sam rolled her to her back and propped himself up with his elbows on either side of her head. “I can't believe what a bunch of dumbasses the guys in your class are, not seeing how hot and smart you are.”
Carla smiled into the darkness and pulled him down to her, her heart exploding in her chest at his words. Sure, he'd left a string of broken hearts including Natalie Cushman's in his wake, but Carla was different. She had to be. There was no way Sam had said things to them like he'd said to her. No way he had shared his secrets and his hopes for the future. And there was Chris, one of Sam's best friends. No way would he screw over his best friend's cousin.
And, she was convinced, no one had really loved Sam. Not like she did.
She cringed now, her fingers tightening around the cold wrought iron of her balcony railing, remembering just how stupid and naïve she'd been. How convinced she'd been that she and Sam were destined to be together, especially after Sam's father had shown up unexpectedly the first week in August, drunk and demanding to see his son.
Carla and Sam had been on their lunch break and were flirting over burgers and fries when Frank O'Connell had burst into the employee dining room. His eyes had locked first on Sam, then Carla. The grin he gave them both was a little blurry around the edges, but it couldn't hide the light of pure nastiness in a pair of blue eyes that were a bloodshot, watery version of his son's intense gaze.