Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Chapter 15 - Forgiveness

Dinner is very awkward. Rob tries to get both teams to mingle by splitting each one in half and mixing them with a half from the opposite side. I sit with Kai, Amir, Felix, Conan and Alec. Some other guys from Alec's team are bunched at the other end of the table and the few other guys from Amerfield sit close to us. I can't help but let my eyes drift over to Sam. He's slightly parted from his friends and he's looking down at his food, a troubled expression on his face. Part of me feels kind of bad, but then I remembered all the things he's said about me in front of his friends and that feeling shrinks away.

We eat a lovely meal of soggy potatoes and burnt sausages and by the time I've finished it, I want to throw up. No one else looks much better. I force myself to look anywhere except at Sam. I end up just staring down at my empty plate, zoned out. I can hear the faint chatter of my friends in the background but I don't pay attention to what they're saying. Before I know it, half an hour has gone by and Coach Smith is suddenly telling everyone to go and get ready for bed. Fucking hell. I sigh deeply and shuffle reluctantly out of the dining hall. I follow my friends along the brightly lit pathway that trails between the cabins, waving goodbye as each of them branches off into their rooms. When I make it to mine and Sam's room, he's not there yet. I grab a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie from my suitcase before heading into the small bathroom to get changed. Whilst I'm in there, I brush my teeth and splash my face with water, trying to clear my thoughts.

I can feel exhaustion creeping up on me so I slowly make my way back into the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Sam is there. He's sitting on the bed, his hair tousled, wearing sweatpants which are pulled down low enough for me to see his boxers and no shirt. I freeze, unable to look away from him. How the fuck does he have abs? My eyes linger on his toned muscles and the distinctive v-line trailing downwards. I silently curse myself and step into the room, looking away from Sam. I can feel my cheeks heating up. Even though I'm taller than he is, I'm built like a stick. I look gangly, thin and delicate, whereas Sam is tall, muscular but not too muscular and annoyingly attractive. Ugh.

    "Are you planning on sleeping like that?" I ask as I throw my clothes from the day into my suitcase. Sam sits up properly.
    "Like what?" He asks, running a hand through his hair. I feel the need to look away as butterflies attack my ability to think properly.
    "Like, shirtless," I mumble, trying to fight the heat in my cheeks. Sam smirks and opens his mouth to say something but he seems to rethink it. Instead, he just stands up, grabs a shirt and pulls it on. "Thanks," I mutter. Sam smiles kindly before he grabs one of the two pillows on the bed and places it down on the threadbare rug on the ground. He lies down on it.
    "Goodnight," He mutters. I frown.

    "What the fuck are you doing?" I ask, standing above him. He looks up at me.
    "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. The bed is really small," He mumbles, his voice small and worried. My heart melts and I want to hug him. Obviously I don't, instead I roll my eyes.
    "Get up, idiot," I say, grabbing his pillow out from underneath him. "We'll make it work, okay? I'm not giving you back problems, even if you've hurt me and you're an asshole," I throw his pillow onto the bed and climb under the covers. Sam stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Get in," I say, moving over to the very edge of the bed so he has more room. After a moment, he complies and climbs in next to me.

He's on the side pressed against the wall and he squishes himself up against it. Even with us both leaning away from each other, theres only about a centimetre between us. I sigh and reach out of bed to grab the worn old book I brought with me. 'Alice's Adventures In Wonderland' I smile down at it, memories flooding through me. Sam got me this book on my eighth birthday and even though most of the big words were difficult for my little brain to comprehend I was so determined to read it because it was a gift from Sam. Since then, it's always been my favourite.
    "You still have it?" Sam asks quietly. For a moment, I forget about my anger at him as I smile and open the book to the first page where a message is clumsily written in eight year old Sam's handwriting.