If Opposites Attract, Then We Were Meant to Be
Busted
*** Eric’s P.O.V. ***
Sam went out with her friends again early so I decided I’d do some laundry. I walked to her room and pulled out the neatly folded ‘dirty’ clothes, I swear she’s not my kid. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever had to tell her to clean her room or if she’s ever had a stain in her life! As I walked out of her bathroom I noticed the clothes she had worn last night, hastily tucked behind the door, almost unnoticeable. I picked up the articles and caught the pungent scent of cigarette smoke. I sniffed a shirt, sure this time that it was cigarette smoke, and that was the harbor for that foul smell was indeed her clothes.
I had never picked Sam to smoke, or be associated with smokers; I thought I had taught her better than that! I certainly would be finding out exactly where she went the other night, because it sure as heck wasn’t the movies!
*** Samantha’s P.O.V. ***
I walked in giggling foolishly with Billie, Mike, and Trè. I was not greeted by a smiling face, but one of pure anger. There was my father, standing at a full height of six foot four scowling, deeper than I had ever seen him do. “I need to speak with Samantha alone boys, you can wait for her in her room. If you’d please excuse us,” he said gesturing towards the stairs sternly. He used that loud, clenched-jaw whisper that was one of my biggest fears in life. It was like acid, eating through my brave face, dissolving me to a frightened child. I knew my dad wasn’t playing around because he had called me ‘Samantha’, something he never calls me unless I really did something wrong. “Where did you go last night!” he roared.
“I told you daddy, w-we went to the movies,” I stuttered helplessly.
“Oh I’m sure, then why do you clothes smell like smoke hmm?” he hissed, shaking my bones cold.
“Daddy I-“
“You smoke now, with those ‘friends’ of yours!” he was crying. I was so ashamed; even if the accusations were untrue I had broken my father’s heart.
“…No,” I choked my voice was caught in my throat, which felt like cotton. “I don’t smoke, and you’re right I didn’t go to the movies. I’m sorry.” I squeaked, the hot, salty tears falling freely now.
“Well then where did you go?” His voice cracked from the sobs that came out in small gasps. It was the same way he cried on the phone with the police officer and at the funeral.
“We-we went to a place called Gilman Street, its sort of an underground club. No drugs, no alcohol, just music. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let me go because of the music!” I shrieked, the blubbering racking through my frame causing me to tremble.
“What? Oh God, honey I’m so sorry for doing that to you. I didn’t want you to listen to music because I didn’t want you to like it, I didn’t want you to seek more in hopes of finding a style that would corrupt your innocence. I didn’t mean to deprive you of something that deep down I knew you would love the instant you heard it, after all that was what your mother had taught you from the beginning,” he cried, sniffling in between his gasping sobs.
“Huh,” at those last words I remember my mother, like watching an old home movie. She was singing to me an old song, a lullaby, then we were in the car. She buckled me up then proceeded to blast the radio, following the lyrics as I watched from my car seat. Somehow I had repressed these memories in hopes of forgetting the pain, the heartbreak. Together we sobbed as my dad told me he didn’t want a cigarette to ever cross my lips, because he couldn’t stand to lose me too. We cried for about ten minutes before remembering Mike, Trè, and Billie who were still waiting in my room.
I dabbed at my swollen, red eyes in the bathroom, blew my nose, and made my way to my room.
“Oh hey Sex Kitten, we were just playin’ a little truth or dare and you’ll never guess what-“ Trè yelled giggling, before Mike elbowed him in the stomach, silencing him.
“He was just going to say that you’d never guess what they made me wear, yeah! Uh, I had to wear one of your um…bras, yes! They made me wear one of your bras!” Mike declared, stumbling over his words.
“…Right” Billie chimed in his cheeks tinged pink. I burst out laughing and they soon followed the suit.
Sam went out with her friends again early so I decided I’d do some laundry. I walked to her room and pulled out the neatly folded ‘dirty’ clothes, I swear she’s not my kid. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever had to tell her to clean her room or if she’s ever had a stain in her life! As I walked out of her bathroom I noticed the clothes she had worn last night, hastily tucked behind the door, almost unnoticeable. I picked up the articles and caught the pungent scent of cigarette smoke. I sniffed a shirt, sure this time that it was cigarette smoke, and that was the harbor for that foul smell was indeed her clothes.
I had never picked Sam to smoke, or be associated with smokers; I thought I had taught her better than that! I certainly would be finding out exactly where she went the other night, because it sure as heck wasn’t the movies!
*** Samantha’s P.O.V. ***
I walked in giggling foolishly with Billie, Mike, and Trè. I was not greeted by a smiling face, but one of pure anger. There was my father, standing at a full height of six foot four scowling, deeper than I had ever seen him do. “I need to speak with Samantha alone boys, you can wait for her in her room. If you’d please excuse us,” he said gesturing towards the stairs sternly. He used that loud, clenched-jaw whisper that was one of my biggest fears in life. It was like acid, eating through my brave face, dissolving me to a frightened child. I knew my dad wasn’t playing around because he had called me ‘Samantha’, something he never calls me unless I really did something wrong. “Where did you go last night!” he roared.
“I told you daddy, w-we went to the movies,” I stuttered helplessly.
“Oh I’m sure, then why do you clothes smell like smoke hmm?” he hissed, shaking my bones cold.
“Daddy I-“
“You smoke now, with those ‘friends’ of yours!” he was crying. I was so ashamed; even if the accusations were untrue I had broken my father’s heart.
“…No,” I choked my voice was caught in my throat, which felt like cotton. “I don’t smoke, and you’re right I didn’t go to the movies. I’m sorry.” I squeaked, the hot, salty tears falling freely now.
“Well then where did you go?” His voice cracked from the sobs that came out in small gasps. It was the same way he cried on the phone with the police officer and at the funeral.
“We-we went to a place called Gilman Street, its sort of an underground club. No drugs, no alcohol, just music. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let me go because of the music!” I shrieked, the blubbering racking through my frame causing me to tremble.
“What? Oh God, honey I’m so sorry for doing that to you. I didn’t want you to listen to music because I didn’t want you to like it, I didn’t want you to seek more in hopes of finding a style that would corrupt your innocence. I didn’t mean to deprive you of something that deep down I knew you would love the instant you heard it, after all that was what your mother had taught you from the beginning,” he cried, sniffling in between his gasping sobs.
“Huh,” at those last words I remember my mother, like watching an old home movie. She was singing to me an old song, a lullaby, then we were in the car. She buckled me up then proceeded to blast the radio, following the lyrics as I watched from my car seat. Somehow I had repressed these memories in hopes of forgetting the pain, the heartbreak. Together we sobbed as my dad told me he didn’t want a cigarette to ever cross my lips, because he couldn’t stand to lose me too. We cried for about ten minutes before remembering Mike, Trè, and Billie who were still waiting in my room.
I dabbed at my swollen, red eyes in the bathroom, blew my nose, and made my way to my room.
“Oh hey Sex Kitten, we were just playin’ a little truth or dare and you’ll never guess what-“ Trè yelled giggling, before Mike elbowed him in the stomach, silencing him.
“He was just going to say that you’d never guess what they made me wear, yeah! Uh, I had to wear one of your um…bras, yes! They made me wear one of your bras!” Mike declared, stumbling over his words.
“…Right” Billie chimed in his cheeks tinged pink. I burst out laughing and they soon followed the suit.