After what seemed like hours of impatient waiting, Sam heard Portman's voice on the other side.
"This better be important." He snarled swinging the door on it's hinges.
Portman was standing in the doorway with a sheet wrapped around his waist and his chest was bare. Samantha didn't even asked why he was dressed that way before leaping at him, closing her legs around his hips and arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek and clung to him like she'd never let go. Portman struggled to keep his sheet from falling, while holding onto the girl.
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I didn't sleep with Ryan!" She exclaimed, moving her head so she could look him in the eye
Portman put her down swiftly but gently .
"Since when?"
"Since this morning when Ryan came to my room and told me what really happened. Sierra set me up Dean, she spiked my drink, she gave Ryan the key and she convinced him that if you and u broke up, he could win me back."
"Why in the Hell would she do that?"
"To have you all to myself." A voice explained, as Samantha turned around she found Sierra's head protruding from the bathroom.
"What?" Dean shook his head confused.
"It was simple sweetie, you see I'm very competitive, I hate to lose. That's why I never do it, I wasn't about to start by losing you to a goody two shoes like Samantha over there." Sierra stepped out of the bathroom in Portman's practice jersey, a black thong evident through the holy material. "Obviously I got what I wanted and we both know you got what wanted three times last night. So all that's left is why is she still here?"
Samantha felt her stomach twist.
"What does she mean, Dean what is she talking about?"
"Gee and I'm suppose to be the ditzy one. Come on Sam, you're smart."
"Don't you have anything to say?" The dark haired girl looked over at the boy with a crushed expression.
Portman had a list of things he could say, there was tons of things he wanted to say, but nothing came out. When he opened his mouth there was nothing. As tears started to trickle down Samantha's cheeks he tried to go to her, but his legs failed him, he couldn't move. It was as if he was outside of his own body, watching everything that was happening without the power to effect the outcome. The more he tried the more powerless he felt.
"I see, well that's what I get for falling for a jock. They always say go with your first instinct. Have a good life, I hope you two are very happy together." Sam spun her heels and gone from the building before the door even closed.
Portman stared after her still glued to the floor, his mouth still not working. What had just happened? After all the wanting he'd gone through, those years of hoping Sam would notice him, had he just let her walk out of his room? Worst of all had he thrown it all anyway for one night of emotionless sex this someone he couldn't stand? Swallowing the lump in his throat he hand Sierra her clothes and forced her back into the bathroom to get dressed. He couldn't even stand the sight of the pretty redhead, he just wanted her out of his room.
In class that day Samantha handed in their project, written in her elaborate handwriting. When the teacher asked of her experience during the time she'd worked with Portman she told the class.
"My husband is an adulterer so please don't base your decisions on if we're to young to get married on my project. But please do void all the mention of our perfect relationship in the report, I didn't have time to rewrite it." She shot Dean an icy glare and sat back down. She was for real, she could never forgive herself for breaking her no athletes vow and more over she would never forgive Portman for trapping her the way he had.
Three days later Carly walked into the newspaper office with an article in one hand and a poem in the other.
"Here's the interview with Connie and Julie on being girls in a men's sport and it seems the unknown author is back in business."
"So did you get enough questions for the half of a page layout I had set for the interview?" Sam took the paper in Carly's left hand, ignoring the poem.
"I think so. Are you going to take this?" Carly waved the other paper at her.
"No." Her friend answered shortly.
"Why not?"
"Because I have no interest in whatever dribble, that brainless jock has written down on that poor piece of paper."
"You used to think that brainless jock was the love of your life."
"That was before he cheated on me, it's a very simple thing, you cheat on me, I'm done with you."
"If you say so Sam, but I know if it were Adam and I, it would be hard for me to just give up like that. I've gotta get to their practice, I'll see you later." Carly dropped Portman's poem on Sam's desk and left the office.
The rest of the staff was nowhere in sight since it wasn't an official meeting day so all finished assignments could be dropped in the box on the door. It was boring, quiet and lonely, Samantha however wasn't really in the mood for company anyway. She knew if she went back to her room, she'd just wind up getting frustrated as the girls that roomed next to her blared their radio. Or she'd fall asleep from mental exhaustion like she had for the past two days. That however would be like admitting she was lost without him. Settling down at her desk she looked around at the unusually disorganized papers in front of her. Nothing was ever that scattered and out of whack on her desk. With a sigh she started picking things up and putting them where they go, as she lifted a manila folder off the top Dean's poem fell onto her lap. Against her best judgment she reluctantly began to read it.
'I miss the way you look at me when I'm acting out of line
I miss the way you smile at me when I read you mind
I miss the way you fit in my arms when I hold you tight
I miss the way you kiss my cheek when we say good night
I miss the way you call my name when you see me in the hall
And hurts to see you don't miss me at all
I miss the way look when having a rough a day
I miss the way you shake your head when I want to play
I miss the way you hold my hand when we're sitting close
I miss the way you smell when you perfume hits my nose
I miss the way you always seem to worry
And I can't stand that fact you won't let me say I'm sorry'
Getting up from her chair Sam crinkled the paper up into a little ball and chucked it into the trash barrel. For a girl that hates sports she could've played basketball. As sweet as the poem sounded it was just words and actions speak louder then words. Then added to the fact Dean was about to forgive her when he THOUGHT she slept with Ryan, she definitely wasn't going the let the fact he honestly boinked Sierra go. It was over.
"This better be important." He snarled swinging the door on it's hinges.
Portman was standing in the doorway with a sheet wrapped around his waist and his chest was bare. Samantha didn't even asked why he was dressed that way before leaping at him, closing her legs around his hips and arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek and clung to him like she'd never let go. Portman struggled to keep his sheet from falling, while holding onto the girl.
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I didn't sleep with Ryan!" She exclaimed, moving her head so she could look him in the eye
Portman put her down swiftly but gently .
"Since when?"
"Since this morning when Ryan came to my room and told me what really happened. Sierra set me up Dean, she spiked my drink, she gave Ryan the key and she convinced him that if you and u broke up, he could win me back."
"Why in the Hell would she do that?"
"To have you all to myself." A voice explained, as Samantha turned around she found Sierra's head protruding from the bathroom.
"What?" Dean shook his head confused.
"It was simple sweetie, you see I'm very competitive, I hate to lose. That's why I never do it, I wasn't about to start by losing you to a goody two shoes like Samantha over there." Sierra stepped out of the bathroom in Portman's practice jersey, a black thong evident through the holy material. "Obviously I got what I wanted and we both know you got what wanted three times last night. So all that's left is why is she still here?"
Samantha felt her stomach twist.
"What does she mean, Dean what is she talking about?"
"Gee and I'm suppose to be the ditzy one. Come on Sam, you're smart."
"Don't you have anything to say?" The dark haired girl looked over at the boy with a crushed expression.
Portman had a list of things he could say, there was tons of things he wanted to say, but nothing came out. When he opened his mouth there was nothing. As tears started to trickle down Samantha's cheeks he tried to go to her, but his legs failed him, he couldn't move. It was as if he was outside of his own body, watching everything that was happening without the power to effect the outcome. The more he tried the more powerless he felt.
"I see, well that's what I get for falling for a jock. They always say go with your first instinct. Have a good life, I hope you two are very happy together." Sam spun her heels and gone from the building before the door even closed.
Portman stared after her still glued to the floor, his mouth still not working. What had just happened? After all the wanting he'd gone through, those years of hoping Sam would notice him, had he just let her walk out of his room? Worst of all had he thrown it all anyway for one night of emotionless sex this someone he couldn't stand? Swallowing the lump in his throat he hand Sierra her clothes and forced her back into the bathroom to get dressed. He couldn't even stand the sight of the pretty redhead, he just wanted her out of his room.
In class that day Samantha handed in their project, written in her elaborate handwriting. When the teacher asked of her experience during the time she'd worked with Portman she told the class.
"My husband is an adulterer so please don't base your decisions on if we're to young to get married on my project. But please do void all the mention of our perfect relationship in the report, I didn't have time to rewrite it." She shot Dean an icy glare and sat back down. She was for real, she could never forgive herself for breaking her no athletes vow and more over she would never forgive Portman for trapping her the way he had.
Three days later Carly walked into the newspaper office with an article in one hand and a poem in the other.
"Here's the interview with Connie and Julie on being girls in a men's sport and it seems the unknown author is back in business."
"So did you get enough questions for the half of a page layout I had set for the interview?" Sam took the paper in Carly's left hand, ignoring the poem.
"I think so. Are you going to take this?" Carly waved the other paper at her.
"No." Her friend answered shortly.
"Why not?"
"Because I have no interest in whatever dribble, that brainless jock has written down on that poor piece of paper."
"You used to think that brainless jock was the love of your life."
"That was before he cheated on me, it's a very simple thing, you cheat on me, I'm done with you."
"If you say so Sam, but I know if it were Adam and I, it would be hard for me to just give up like that. I've gotta get to their practice, I'll see you later." Carly dropped Portman's poem on Sam's desk and left the office.
The rest of the staff was nowhere in sight since it wasn't an official meeting day so all finished assignments could be dropped in the box on the door. It was boring, quiet and lonely, Samantha however wasn't really in the mood for company anyway. She knew if she went back to her room, she'd just wind up getting frustrated as the girls that roomed next to her blared their radio. Or she'd fall asleep from mental exhaustion like she had for the past two days. That however would be like admitting she was lost without him. Settling down at her desk she looked around at the unusually disorganized papers in front of her. Nothing was ever that scattered and out of whack on her desk. With a sigh she started picking things up and putting them where they go, as she lifted a manila folder off the top Dean's poem fell onto her lap. Against her best judgment she reluctantly began to read it.
'I miss the way you look at me when I'm acting out of line
I miss the way you smile at me when I read you mind
I miss the way you fit in my arms when I hold you tight
I miss the way you kiss my cheek when we say good night
I miss the way you call my name when you see me in the hall
And hurts to see you don't miss me at all
I miss the way look when having a rough a day
I miss the way you shake your head when I want to play
I miss the way you hold my hand when we're sitting close
I miss the way you smell when you perfume hits my nose
I miss the way you always seem to worry
And I can't stand that fact you won't let me say I'm sorry'
Getting up from her chair Sam crinkled the paper up into a little ball and chucked it into the trash barrel. For a girl that hates sports she could've played basketball. As sweet as the poem sounded it was just words and actions speak louder then words. Then added to the fact Dean was about to forgive her when he THOUGHT she slept with Ryan, she definitely wasn't going the let the fact he honestly boinked Sierra go. It was over.