He sat down under the porch overhang and ran his hands through his hair. God, what a day, he thought to himself. He looked out over the ocean, watching the sun set. The colors merged softly in the distance, reflecting on the glistening water. It wasn't full of waves today; it seemed to be feeling calm at last. Just like him. His father's death seemed almost vague in his memory, a whole year ago now, but he missed him more than he cared to admit.

The deeds to the house had been transferred to Lydia earlier that day. It would be her house in a month. He sighed, and walked over to edge of the water. I will always remember, he thought, looking out across the ocean, I'll never forget. We built this house together. He shook off the memory of his father, and strode back into the house. I'm too young to deal with this kind of crap. He sighed softly. Then the telephone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Sam."

"Hi, Mom," he replied.

"What's up?"

"I was about to make myself something to eat."

"Want to come eat here? We're having barbeque." He shifted the phone to between his neck and shoulder, and opened the fridge.

"Love to, but Alyssa is coming over."

"You could bring her, too!"

"Sorry, Ma. Not this time."

"Alright, bye Honey. Tell Alyssa I said hello."

"Ok, Ma." He turned off the phone and sat it back on the cradle. Alyssa wasn't coming for another few hours, but he needed some time to rest, anyway. He opened the fridge, took out the store-bought turkey breast, and stuffed it into the oven. Then he clicked the timer on, and laid down on the couch.

He awoke with the timer, as he had planned it. He walked into the kitchen, clicked off the oven and the timer, and removed the turkey. It was cooked rather well, at the very least, considering he had never had any experience with cooking until about ten months before. He had gone back and lived with his mother for a couple months after absorbing the shock of his father's death.

Sam lit two candles on the table and brought out the salad he had fixed earlier. He was adding the last few finishing touches when he heard the door open, then close. Then, smiling a bit to himself, he walked back into the kitchen for some glasses. He found himself wishing he was old enough to drink, for he was only seventeen, and time seemed to be dragging on insanely. He took a quick drink of water before pouring the cranberry juice and lemon-lime seltzer mix into the two wine glasses and bringing them to the table.

"Hey, you," Alyssa said sweetly. She was already sitting at her place on the table. He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned and he ended up pecking her on the cheek. He sighed.

"Remind me why again," he said slowly, with his eyes closed. She rolled hers.

"We can't get involved because we'd only end up breaking each other's hearts, and our feelings for each other aren't strong enough." He disagreed strongly with her every time she said it, but was wise enough to keep silent. He remembered every detail of their first kiss, up to the end when he had to clean her shower, and their final one, not to mention the others. There had only been four, before she decided that nothing but friendship should happen between them. He didn't protest all that much because he knew that he only wanted to make her happy, no matter what the cost.

"Right," he said for what seemed like the millionth time. "You look beautiful, by the way." To her own astonishment, she felt a tad of color creep into her face.

"It's just the normal me." Get a grip, Alyssa, she told herself.

"I know." She just stared down at her plate. He broke the brief awkward silence by announcing, "Dinner is served," in his best fake French accent. She giggled, exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

He brought out the salad first, and she seemed to like it alright. It wasn't any big deal to her, just salad. She said those exact words, although she did say it wasn't bad. That was good at least. Then he brought out the turkey. Her reaction was more that he could have imagined. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"This is excellent," she said with a little laugh as she took another bite. "I believe you have inherited your mother's cooking skills." He smiled at that.

"Thank you very much. That's the best compliment I've received in a while," he said, taking a large mouthful of turkey. She looked at him happily, and took her last bite of turkey. It was good, she would give him that, but it wasn't quite as exceptional as she had made it look. She knew he needed a bit of happiness.

They chatted like the old friends that they were through the rest of dinner and into dessert. All he could think about was the jumble of feelings racing through his chest. The first time he had any physical contact with her, still in the dark stages, he had taken some of his father's pain killer. It was very strong. That was just a couple months before he died. Thank God that he was over the whole drug faze of his life.

I love her, he thought to himself, still listening intently to every word escaping her lovely red lips. I love her so much I'm sick with it. He continued the happy conversation, and the smile he kept plastered on his face never wavered for a second.

After the meal, they retired to the sitting room and stared out over the ocean. Sam continued to wonder how she could look more beautiful every second. The soft candlelight illuminated the vibrant red highlights in her hair, and he wondered how it would feel to bury his face in it. He was shook back to reality when she began to talk again.

"Could I use you shower tomorrow?" she said with nonchalance.

"Depends on what time."

"Eight-ish?"

"I have to be to Lydia's at nine, so I'll either be just getting out of there then, or gone to her house."

"I don't care," she replied. "I'll just go when you're finished. I'll be here around seven, ok?"

"Whatever."

"Well, I better get home. It's kinda late."

"Ok, see you tomorrow."

"Alright," she said with a smile.

He leaned down to kiss her goodbye, but she didn't quite move in time. She tried to keep herself steeled against him, but when she opened her mouth to protest she was lost. She closed her eyes, and brought her hands up to bring his head closer to hers. He pulled back after what seemed like an eternity.

"Sam, that was just a kiss. I can't get involved with you. I'm still with Josh."

"How can you still be with him after all he's done to you?" Sam yelled angrily.

"I forgave him and forgot it a long time ago. I have a lot of feelings for Josh, it was much easier to forgive him than I expected."

"But I-" I love you. "I just want you to be happy," He said raising his hands in defeat. He had enough experience to know that it was perfectly useless to fight with Alyssa about Josh, so, like in this instance, he pretty much just gave up.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," she said, then gave him a smile and a hug, before walking out of the room and through the front door.

He walked slowly towards his bedroom.

"Well, Guster, that could've gone better," he said to his golden retriever, patting him on the head.

He mentally added that kiss to his list. He knew that the few kisses he got from her would have to last him an eternity. He laid down on his bed, crossing his arms behind his head.

"God, if you're out there, please watch over Alyssa," he prayed, feeling tears well up behind his eyes. He had only cried once since his father had died, and it was only for a moment. He hated crying. It made him feel weak, but the tears were threatening to fall again. "And Dad, if you're listening, I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you and I miss you."

He sat up, pulled his knees up to his chest, and laid his head in his hands. They came away wet.