Sam Campbell needed to escape, escape from her life, her messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks she couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known her and Cam, had known her shame and failure. So, she took the first job she could get, teac...
A loud, frustrated sigh rose from Sam's throat as she looked over the mess of clothes she'd flung across her bed in an attempt to find something to wear tonight. She wanted to make a good first impression on these people who had never met her before but she didn't want to look like she was trying too hard either. It was a bonfire at a lake so anything dressy was out. She flung the sky blue top and long black skirt to the side. That was definitely too much. It was also an early May evening so it would still be slightly chilly once the sun went down. That eliminated the shorts and short sleeve tops unless she wanted to wear a jacket and she really didn't.
She finally settled on a pair of black, ripped jeans with an oversized beige sweater. It was stylish but casual, cute but comfortable, and it would keep her warm as the sun set later, taking the last of the day's warmth with it. Sam grabbed her black Converse, pulling them on and lacing them up. Trekking through the woods was going to require sensible footwear, definitely no chunky heels for this party. That was just asking for her to trip over a branch, fall on her face, and humiliate herself. Not exactly the kind of first impression she was going for. This was her chance to reinvent herself and she wanted to do it right.
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Heading into the bathroom, she ran her fingers through her caramel brown hair that was cut off just above her shoulders. It had been an impulsive decision after her life had imploded. Sam had been desperate for a change. She didn't want to be Samantha Campbell anymore. She wanted to look different, to be different. No longer the stupid girl who'd walked around for months unaware of what was going on right under her nose. She'd wanted to wipe the slate clean and begin again, to be someone fresh and new. So, she'd walked into the salon and had them chop off eight inches.
It was supposed to be this catalyst, this decision that launched her forward into her new life, invigorated with energy to go out and seize the day. Take away the hair and take away all her problems with it. But when the stylist had turned her chair, her reflection staring back at her in the mirror, all Sam could see was the same sad, pathetic idiot who'd been cheated on by her husband for a year and had no idea until she caught him in the act.
She had paid and thanked her for the fresh cut, smiling and lying through her teeth when the girl asked if she felt like a whole new woman. But then she'd stumbled into her mom's house, ignoring her mother's offer of food, gone straight to her old bedroom, tumbled into the bed and laid there all night, feeling like nothing was ever going to change the failure she had become. Thirty and divorced and living with her parents. It was deplorable and she was worthless.
Sam shook off the memory, refusing to go back to being that girl. As she walked down the hall of her new home, her eyes flashed over to her bedroom doorway, glaring at her bed as if it was the bed's fault that she'd laid there or on the couch wasting away for months. As if it hadn't been her own decision to let life pass her by, to let the world keep turning while she chose not to participate in it. As if she hadn't willingly moved to a new town and then hid inside her house, allowing herself to sulk in the sad state her life had become. No, she wasn't going back to that girl. That girl was pathetic. She let the two people she trusted the most in the world betray her for a year without realizing what was happening right under her nose. She let that one moment, the simple act of opening a door, beat her down, stop her from living, and she wasn't going to do that anymore.
