Page 66 of Save Me

I take a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can pretend that everything is fine in front of her… I think she’ll see straight through me.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want her to think of me any differently when she finds out what I’ve been through… how much I’ve been struggling,” I say, focusing on the warm coffee in my hands. “I’mscared that she’ll think I’m broken, or different, than I was. And I don’t really know how to navigate that.”

“All valid concerns,” he says slowly. “But I think you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That she’s your friend… That she’s seen you go through a lot and is still here, trying to make sure you’re okay. I think you’re underestimating how much she cares about you.” He takes another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t think there is anything that could sway her from being here for you.”

I mull over what he’s saying, and I have to agree that he’s right. By the time we finish our coffees I’ve sent Sam a message back, agreeing to swing by her apartment later this week.

CHAPTER 29

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Aweird nervousnessstirs within me as I arrive at Sam’s apartment, and I try to remind myself that I don’t need to tell her anything I’m not ready to talk about. It’s been months since I’ve last been here, and I can’t help but remember all the time we spent inside these walls together. The endless sleepovers, movie nights, coffee catchups, and study dates. The times we laughed together, cried together, and sat in silence together as we navigated some of our most tumultuous years.

I knock on the door loudly, and it’s only a few seconds later that she answers, launching herself at me with such force that I nearly fall over. She hugs me until I can barely breathe, and it takes me a moment to relax under her touch. When she finally releases me I walk inside, and I can’t help but chuckle at how different our tastes are; where my apartment is rustic and old, hers is glamourous and new. Almost everything in here is white: the marble countertops, kitchen cabinets, the walls, and her furniture. And the gold hardware only helps accent the chic look she’s going for.

“Ready to work?” Sam asks with a small smile.

“Tell me where you need me!”

It feels weird pretending that everything is fine around Sam, but I need this escape, to just let everything go for a day and spend time with someone who knows me outside of the shit that’s happened recently.

“Ok, so,” Sam starts as she walks into her living area, “I think we’ll paint this room first, and then when it’s drying I’ll order lunch, and we can choose what photos and artwork to hang.”

I nod as I assess the space. “What color are we painting it?”

Sam shrieks with excitement as she opens the can of paint in front of us, and I try to hide my laughter at the bright pink staring back at me.

“It looks …”

“Amazing right?!” She cuts me off.

“It’s definitely something,” I say with a smile. Trust Sam to paint her extravagant apartment the most ridiculous color.

“I’ve lived here for years and I haven’t even decorated it yet, or made it my own. And since my favorite color is pink…” She trails off and I can’t help but smile at the excitement in her eyes.

“Let’s do this,” I say with a laugh.

Sam picks up the paintbrush and dips it delicately into the bright liquid, before swiping it across the white walls.

“Holy shit that’s bright.” She laughs and I join her as we stare at the hot pink streak across the wall.

“Too late to change your mind now.” I laugh as my paintbrush follows suit.

We chat as we paint for a couple of hours and Sam catches me up on everything going on in her life. As I pause to wipe the sweat off my face an odd feeling washes over me as I listen to her speak; I don’t think she’s telling me the full truth of what’s going on in her life. It’s not like she’s outright lying to me, but it seems as though she’s holding something back.

I dip my brush back into the vivid paint and go back to touching up the walls around the trim, as I try to avoid any bright pink ending up where it shouldn’t.

“I think I’ve decided I don’t like painting houses,” I say to Sam with a sigh.

“Is that so?” she asks with a smile.

I turn to face her, gesturing to the wall behind me. “I’m not cut out for this.” I laugh. “First I was sweating from moving furniture out of the way, now I’m sweating as I try to get all these tedious spots, hoping the painter’s tape holds and you don’t end up with pink all over the place.” I smile.

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