Sam Jones, Sam Jones

{Sam Jones, Sam Jones}

Sam(antha)

Samantha Jones has never seen the inside of a detention room. She quickly learns that it’s just like any other classroom but far, far worse… especially today. Today, the detention room has been outfitted with masses of roses, boxes of chocolate, and other things unflattering.

Samantha doesn’t like Valentine’s Day.

She doesn’t like the idea of sending roses and chocolate boxes to people she doesn’t really love the way Saint Valentine supposedly loved Julia.

Samantha sidles into the room and approaches a horde of students who are busy attaching labels to the flowers and chocolate boxes. She is unsure of her duties until a girl – quite literally – emerges from under a mound of fabric and smiles brightly.

“You’re Samantha, yeah?” she exclaims. Samantha recognizes Genie Crenshaw, the Student Council President, and takes the hand that has been offered to her. Genie is always loud and always obnoxious; her dyed blonde hair is always loud and always obnoxious; her perfectly ironed sweater-and-khaki-shorts are always loud and always obnoxious.

 “Sam,” Samantha corrects.

Genie nods absent-mindedly. She scans the room in search of a possible task and then grins when her eyes settle on a strapping senior who looks to be struggling with a pair of scissors. “Why don’t you go help Samuel with some of the roses? It’s just basic cutting and stapling.”

The way she says it sounds like she’s insulting Samuel for his clumsy behavior, but Samantha can’t be sure because Genie is smiling at the same time. Somehow, she senses that the bitterness displayed by Genie stems deeper than just Samuel’s work ethic.

Samantha nods and attempts not to sigh.

There is a reason she usually turns her homework in when it’s due and usually makes it to her classes on time and usually avoids being snide towards any of her teachers. That reason is staring her in the face – and it has enough love hearts to populate the Earth.

Samantha is sure that today was just meant to be a bad day, though. She’s convinced that an almighty power shredded her tires and forgot to remind her that her only spare is also punctured. Her parents had both left by the time she discovered her situation. That is why she had to take two different public buses, and run a quarter mile just to make it in time for the last of a double.

Hence, the first time she’s ever strayed from the norm and broken all three of her fundamental rules.

She left her homework in the back seat of her car, she arrived late for a double and she called her AP Physics teacher a wound-up bitch at the height of her anger and frustration.

Detention is probably a blessing. Having to label partially dead roses and on-sale chocolate because the student council needs the extra help is a blessing.

“Do you need assistance with the scissors?” Samantha furtively asks the boy who has positioned himself in one corner of the room with a box full of roses and a pile of papers that he is attempting to cut.

He shakes his head. “Take a seat,” he states as he finally looks up at her. “I don’t want Genie Crenshaw to shove more boxes my way, so I’m pretending to have motor-skill difficulties.”

Samantha hops onto the ledge by the corner of the room with a length of windows to her back. “You’re a genius,” she responds with an impressed smile.

Their eyes haven’t left each other’s faces since they connected. “I’m Sam,” he says. “Samu –.”

“Samuel Jones; Cantera High’s very own soccer prodigy and all-around golden boy,” Samantha finishes. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t know that.” She kicks her legs backwards and forwards.