Devon Hartford: Reckless

Me and Samantha.

I suddenly imagined writing “ Christos + Samantha” on my binder and drawing a heart around it, if I had one. Man, I was nuts. I thought only girls were supposed to do that shit.

I smiled and inhaled deeply, feeling Samantha’s energy swirl through me.

I pictured her leaning toward me, lips ready for a tender kiss. Man, was I going through puberty again? I hadn’t had thoughts like this since I was chasing chicks in junior high. But it felt wonderful. Like the first day of summer vacation. That’s what Samantha was for me, when you get down to it. A vacation from bullshit, from image, from posing, from acting whatever part I felt I needed to play at any given moment.

She was straight-up relaxation.

I must have been trancing, because I could swear I heard soft waves whispering across warm sand and felt a cool breeze kissing my toes as the sun licked my skin. Samantha was right next to me, I could feel her presence.

I almost freaked out, thinking some AC/DC inmate was trying to tongue my toes while I appeared to nap. I peeked out one eye, just to make sure I wasn’t losing it. Seeing the coast was clear, I dropped back through whatever astral portal was pulling my heart out of this place and into that distant utopia where Samantha waited for me.

A second later, I was gone from the real world completely.

Samantha and I were lying on loungers on a remote desert island somewhere on the other side of the planet, the fingers of our hands laced together while we sipped cool drinks on the diamond sand. There was not a soul around for hundreds of miles. We inhabited our own private paradise.

I didn’t have a clear conception of time, but it must have been right around sunset in the real world. Samantha was probably staring at the sunset at that exact moment, sharing it with me. I don’t know how or why I was convinced of this fact, but I knew it to be true.

Was I seeing it through her eyes?

Fuck me if I was. It seemed so goddamned real.

Samantha turned to me and gazed into my eyes. Her face was serenely calm. I could see her complete and total beauty for the first time. It even transcended that moment she’d been in front of my grandfather’s painting in the museum. That had been awesome, but this was even better. This time, she was 100% relaxed, completely and totally at peace with herself, her life, the entire world. In this moment, she was fully the woman she wanted to become. My heart melted. Holy shit, I’d never felt anything like it. I desperately wanted her to become this woman she was capable of, like her finding herself would somehow complete me .

The idea made me shiver with joy and…fear.

Thing was, I lived for taking risks. No matter how fucking frightening they were.

Samantha…

I wanted more. Fuck, I needed more.

I needed us .

The astral image of Samantha gazed into my soul. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if she was struggling with something monumental, then her face relaxed, and all doubt fell away.

“I love you, Christos,” she whispered to me, inches away on her beach lounger. We were still on that island paradise together.

What the fuck?! She didn’t know my real name, I’d told her my name was Adonis. How did she know to call me Christos?! I started to shake in my swimsuit on my lounger, like something was ripping away the armor around my heart.

I panicked.

“Don’t be afraid, agápi mou ,” she whispered, leaning against the armrest of her lounger, caressing my arm with her fingertips as the waves whispered against the shore. “I love you.” She reached over to kiss me. Her lips were so close, I could feel their warmth on mine as her sweet breath caressed my soul.

My heart raced.

Suddenly, black storm clouds blanketed the sun. Thunder hammered across the sky.

Samantha was slipping away. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get air. I was scared shitless. I rocketed out of that tropical paradise, all the way across the universe, and shot up in my cramped bunk.

Gasping, I blinked my eyes and shook my head, making sure I was awake. I looked around.

The jail dormitory was totally silent. Nobody was awake. The place was a tomb. They kept the lights on 24/7, but turned off half the fluorescent banks after lights out. It must have been well past midnight.

I rolled over and did my best to go back to sleep.

Sometime later, darkness overtook me.

Horrible darkness.

Something was chasing Samantha. Some one. A terrible presence was trying to overcome her, trying to tear away her innocence. She was afraid. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t reach her. She was all alone. There was nothing I could do. She was wounded, unable to escape her tormentor.

I couldn’t protect her and it was killing me.

Samantha…

Agápi mou…

SAMANTHA

PRESENT DAY

Standing on the dock in the Marina, shaking with low-level fear, I did my best to hide my tension as I waited for Christos to clue me in on whatever it was he was hiding from me.

Before he could, Tiffany Kingston- Whore house, I mean White house, emerged from the center of the small remaining group of people chatting with her on the dock.

The last light of the sunset tinted Tiffany’s skin that perfect golden brown you only see on supermodels or swimsuit magazine covers. I’m pretty sure Tiffany had hired a rock video crew to choose just that moment to blow a gust of wind into her shimmering, silken hair. She looked spectacular, and I hated her for it.

Was she what Christos had been hiding?

“Hey, Christos!” she squealed, “You came!” She flung her arms around him in total disregard for my existence, nearly slicing my eyeball open with her nails. She kissed Christos’ cheek affectionately.

Hello , did she not see me? I glared bullets at Queen Bee-otch.

Christos broke away from Tiffany’s embrace before either of them went down in the fully-automatic hail of my jealousy.

I could tell Christos was uncomfortable with Tiffany’s flirty come-on, but he played it cool and draped his arm casually around my shoulders, marking a clear boundary between himself and Tiffany.

I smiled triumphantly and reminded myself this was Christos Manos, after all. Not some jerk like Damian Wolfram. I didn’t need to worry about Christos having a wandering eye. I trusted him, even if a woman like Tiffany made me nervous.

I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to let Tiffany get in the way of my happiness. I was a changed woman. All that crazy jealousy and self-doubt was behind me.

I hoped.

“Who’re your friends, Christos?” Tiffany yawned absently.

Holy Memory Loss, did she not even remember? I sighed. Probably not. All she ever thought about was herself, I’d bet.

Two long-legged hobots walked up behind Tiffany and gave me dirty looks. They were probably Delta Pi Delta worker bees in service to Her Snideness, but I wasn’t sure without their bulging sorority sweaters.

“You remember Samantha,” Christos offered.

Tiffany narrowed one eye like a nervous ferret before turning her nose up at me. “I didn’t recognize her all dressed up.”

Her worker bees giggled.

As usual, Tiffany projected the air of having everything you wished you had but didn’t. And yet, for once it was the other way around. I knew how badly Tiffany wanted Christos, but he was with me, not her.

I wanted to spin in circles while doing the happy dance, but I wasn’t a bitch like Tiffany. So I did the happy dance in my head, and made a mental note to do the real thing later in the privacy of my apartment, with Christos.