There's No Price On Love

I was sitting on the deck, thinking and enjoying the sunshine. I could feel the heat warming my skin and I sighed in contentment, stretching before getting up and going to sunbathe on the front lawn.

Charlie had taken my mother out for lunch, while Chad took Brett to his soccer game. It was the first time in months that I had the house to myself, except for a few maids and butlers here and there. They didn’t count considering I didn’t think we needed them anyway.

I rolled onto my back and pulled my sunglasses off, chucking them onto the grass beside me. I blinked my eyes a few times, adjusting to the light and then closed them tightly. It was strange because the first image that came to mind was the boy I had seen 5 days ago.

I could see the perfect waves of his blonde hair and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. Beneath his shaggy clothes, it was obvious to see the lean body of a young man and best of all, I remember the piercing eyes. That gaze was enough to take my breath away, something that Sam never had made me do in my life.

It made me wonder who he was more than anything.

Where was he from? Why was he here? Did he actually have a place to live?

I’m asking, but yet there are no answers.

I shook the thoughts from my head, the image of the blonde haired boy still sticking like glue. Ugh, so maybe curiosity was an understatement. I wanted to know who the boy was and badly.

Unfortunately, today wasn’t the day to find out.

My mother had brought home another dress the other day, for me to wear to her little ‘get-together’ tonight for my birthday. This was really just a way for her to show off her new jewellery, her new house and new life . . . Without dad.

One word: Bitch.

The dress was a simple black evening gown, strapless, and long. The fabric layered itself across the bust, a small gem planted on in between. I didn’t want to admit it, but I loved the dress, it was perfect and classy, just my style.

I got to my feet and brushed the loose blades from my shorts, glancing around to make sure no one was looking when I pulled one out of my shirt. The worst part about living in the so-called ‘Rich area’ was that there was always someone driving by, even though we lived outside of L.A., we were still a part of it.

The grass fell onto the ground softly and I flipped my hair over my shoulder, looking out to the road. For a second, I thought I seen a silver of golden blonde hair, much like the boy’s I’d seen the other day.

I wanted to rush across the road and see if it really was him, just out of curiosity. I must be losing my mind, thinking about someone I had never met and like him of all people. I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch but my thoughts were wrong, I had Sam as a boyfriend and I lived a completely different life from this boy. Even if he turned out to be Prince Charming, Charlie and my mother would never have it. It might just make our family look bad.

I gave one last longing look in the distance before turning around to head back into the enormous house, knowing that Gerard was most likely waiting for me [If you haven’t already guessed, Gerard is our family butler and one of Charlie’s oldest friends. Gerard is more like family than a worker.].

Sure enough, when I walked through the door, Gerard was waiting in his stereotypical black suit with a book of sticky notes in his left hand. He smiled warmly and closed the door behind me as I slipped off my sandals and went into the kitchen.

I grabbed a glass of lemonade before plopping down onto one of the stools, glass in hand. Gerard handed me the sticky notes and poured himself a glass as well, that was the cool thing about him. He never acted all stiff and proper like a butler should, Gerard was Gerard.

“These were phone messages that your family missed and while you were outside Ms. Taylor. I expect that most of them were about the events this evening?” He had the slightest tinge of a French accent and he always spoke respectfully to everyone, Even if he was a little on the looser side.

Gerard even looked French with the high cheekbones and extremely defined nose. His hair was greying and the lines around his eyes more distinguished but for being 50, he was in very good shape.

“Were they addressed to me or my mother?” I asked, flipping through the book. There were a total of 24 calls in the past 2 hours, most of them from people I didn’t even know.

“Erm, most for your mother Miss but I figured that since you are the main attraction of the get together that you would be one to see them as well.” I smiled in response and handed him the notes back. He took them and stuck them in the front pocket of his blazer.

“Did mom give you any idea of when we’re supposed to set things up?” I asked after finishing off the last of the lemonade. My glass hit the counter with a soft clank and I tapped my fingers against it.

“Approximately 5:30 Miss, the party starts at 6:30.”

“I’m guessing that Sharah is showing up to decorate?” Sharah was my mother’s best friend, much like me and Myranda. They almost look identical, same blonde hair and height.

Sharah even had the same attitude as my mother. Sometimes, it was almost scary.

“Yes. Sharah is planning on coming at 5 or so. It was in the messages.” Gerard patted the breast pocket of his blazer where the post-it notes were, giving me a small smile.

“Make sure to let me know ahead of time, okay? I don’t really want to see Sharah until later.” I said while examining my nails. They’d have to be redone; the index finger gel nail was already lifting.

“I’ll make sure.”

“Would you mind also calling my mother and letting her know that Sharah’s going to be here at 5? I’d rather have mom here than have you deal with her on your own.” I gave Gerard a sympathetic smile and the old man pursed his lips. “I don’t want you to be a victim to one of her snap attacks.”

“Fair enough. Anything else you need?” I tapped my finger against my lower lip and shook my head, getting off of the stool to go up the stairs, into my room.

The best feature of our house had to be the spiral staircase that leads to the 2nd floor or possibly the real crystal chandelier that hung just shy away from it. I slid my hand along the banister, climbing one stair at a time while digging my cell phone out of my pocket.

Of course, there were texts from Sam.

After shopping for my dress 5 days ago, Derek had showed up to my house after, Sam not to far behind him. Myranda was ecstatic to see her boyfriend, bouncing up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. It was like one of those big mushy reunions you see on movies like ‘Casablanca’, the ones where you want to ‘aw’ but yet make you want to hurl.

Sam and I exchanged a quick kiss, after giving each other shy smiles. For being together for 2 years, you’d think that we’d be more comfortable with Sam. Instead, the more I was with him; the less I felt I knew. Every second I spent with Sam was used to re-learn everything about him or what really mattered. Most of the time, I didn’t get to learn anything because all he wanted to talk about was his scholarship and volleyball.

I’d nod and comment in the appropriate places but for the most part, I made sure that Sam couldn’t talk and it didn’t matter how I had to do it.

Don’t get me wrong, Sam’s a nice guy but he’s boring. I can’t exactly dump him before graduation either and because he’s Derek’s best friend. What would that do to my rep?

Ugh, what did it matter if I had a rep or not?

I opened the door to my room and collapsed onto my bed, burying my face into my pillows.

My parents loved Sam, everyone in my household loved Sam. According to my mother, he was perfect for me and for awhile she’s been talking to his family about a proposal, insisting that we’ll probably get married anyway. Sam and I were like Blair and Nate from Gossip Girl, forced into something we really don’t plan on doing. Sam would probably agree to it, me . . . I’m not so sure.

Sam was fine for the time being but there was something better out there somewhere.

I heard a light rapping on my window and my head shot up, glancing around the room and settling on the window across the room. Sam was crouched near it, a beaming smile on his face with flowers in his hand. I smiled back and got up, giving my hair a quick fluff before unlocking it and letting Sam in.

“You know, most people use the front door.” I teased and he chuckled, holding out the flowers for me to take.

“Not when their girlfriend’s parents aren’t home and you know that you aren’t allowed to be over.” I placed the flowers on my desk, looking for a vase. I knew I had one in here somewhere, I just couldn’t remember where I put it.

“True, but it’s not like Gerard will tell. Even if he his tight with Charlie, Sam.” Sam shrugged and kicked his shoes off, making himself comfortable on my bed. I glanced at the perfectly white tennis shoes on the floor and then up at Sam. I hated having shoes that were worn outside in my room.

“Didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Oh so Mr. Risk-taker decided to finally take the safe route?” I picked up his shoes and placed them on the roof before jumping onto the bed beside him, tracing my fingers down the carved muscles of his chest.

“Not exactly, I just don’t need to be getting either of us in trouble. I make one wrong move and my father’s going to bust my ass, meaning I won’t get to play volleyball for the rest of the season.”

So maybe Sam was a jock but he understood my lifestyle. The two of us, expected to be prim and perfect, never setting a foot out of line. Maybe that’s why we hit it off so well before we started dating.

I rolled my eyes and him.

“Whatever Sam, your dad knows better. He won’t risk that scholarship, even if you rob a bank.”

“It’s not like he can’t afford to send me to school, he’s just proud that he’s son’s supposedly ‘Number1’. You know how he is Em; he’s got to have the best of everything.” He had a point there. Sam had one of the highest GPAs in our senior class, giving him opportunities for schools like Harvard and Brown. It’s just too bad that he’d rather play volleyball and baseball. Yes, my boyfriend is also the star pitcher of the high school team.

“Well you’re definitely number one in my books.” I murmured and cuddled my head onto his chest. His arm wrapped around me and I could feel him smile.

“Thanks Em; you really know how to make me feel better.” I didn’t reply and brushed a strand of my dark hair from my eyes.

“You’re coming to the so-called ‘party’ tonight?” Sam slightly tensed and I sat up, looking down at him. “Sam?”

“Em . . . Well, uh. . .”

“You’re not coming.” I deadpanned, feeling irritation rise in my chest. “Why the fuck not?”

“Derek and I made plans last week.”

“You’re missing my birthday party, you know, me. Your girlfriend. Because you made plans with Derek? “

Sam nodded stiffly, now sitting up and scratching the back of his head.

“Look it’s not that I don’t want to be there…”

“Then you’d be there! Sam I was counting on you!” I exclaimed, giving him a slight shove.

“I’ll be there for tomorrow’s party, I promise.”

“But this is the one night that I really need someone there for me; this party isn’t even about me!”

“You’ll have Myranda. I’m really sorry Emma but I made plans with my best friend. Bros before . . . Uh, never mind that analogy, I just made a promise and I have to keep it.”

I felt tears prick my eyes and I got up, moving beside the window.

“Well then you shouldn’t have made a promise knowing that it was my birthday this week. Get out, I need to be alone,” I snapped, pointing at the window.

Sam got to his feet obediently and climbed out, reaching down for his sneakers. I slammed the window, nearly knocking him off the roof. He gave me a dirty look before taking off, leaving me alone for the time now and later for my party.

God why did I even have a boyfriend?

I was about to go back to my bed when there was another knock on the window and Sam was peeking in. I opened it again and stuck my head out, just inches from his face.

“I told you to LEAVE Samuel!” I growled and Sam curled his lip slightly.

“I am leaving, I just happened to drop my cell phone on your bed.” Sure enough, when I craned my head around to look, there was Sam’s phone on my black comforter. I gave him a sharp smile and retrieved his phone, holding it out for him to take.

Just as he reached out his hand, I chucked it as far as I could out the window and onto the grass. Sam watched it fly from my hand, it landing a good distance away. Sam turned back to me, his mouth gaping.

“I didn’t deserve that Emma!” I smiled innocently and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“We both know you did.” I looked up at the sky and pointed at the clouds. “Gee Sam! You’d better hurry up and find your phone. It looks like it might rain.” Sam lowered his dark eyes dangerously and stormed off, nearly toppling over a loose shingle. I stifled a snicker and watched him climb down the side of the house before bolting in the direction I threw his phone.

He knew I wasn’t lying about the rain.

Dark rain clouds had begun to form over the East side of L.A, giving me hope that maybe my mother’s party would be cancelled. Shit, I still needed get ready.

I wonder how badly my mother was going to freak knowing that Sam wasn’t coming to my party.

The door bell downstairs signified that Sharah had arrived. I could imagine now the clusters of bags she had piled in her arms and how she’d snap at Gerard for not helping her in the first place.

Sharah’s a bitch, my mother’s a bitch.

But then again, so is life.