ANCHOR

Chapter 15

  thats a picture of Hope--->

  HOPE

   I hadn't realized I was crying until we pulled away the second time. He looked at me, holding me with his brown eyes, and wiped away a tear from my cheek. He drove me home, his warm hand in mine. We both didn't speak, we didn't want to. We wouldn't let anything ruin the perfection, and words weren't needed for what we were feeling.

   He pulled to a stop infront of my house, and I was suddenly aware that I should say something. "Do you have a piece of paper?" I asked, and because he looked confused I clarified. "I'm going to give you my number." "Oh. Yeah I think." He replied.

   He reached over into the back seat, and I saw his t-shirt lift a little, exposing some of his stomach. His extremely well toned, tan stomach. I bit my tongue. He sat back down, with a wrinkled paper and a pen in his hand. "When you're a songwriter your always prepared for these types of things." He informed me, and I smiled. He ripped it into two, and scribbled his number on one, then handed me both and the pen. I wrote my number on the blank sheet and handed it back.

  I thought about Jared, and felt a rush of guilt.

  The mere thought of letting Sam go would tear me open. It was as if I'd already known him forever. And I had, in a way.

  "Sam?"

"Hope?"

"I think I'm going to break up with Jared."

 He looked at me, something in his expression changing. It seemed like he was bursting at the seams with joy. He tried his best not to smile, and I saw it, but his lips couldn't help but curve upward the slightest bit. I was positive it was the right decision after seeing his reaction.

   He let out the softest sigh, and then quietly replied, "good."

  I walked into my house, Sam's number in my hand, with my heart pounding and my stomach on fire. I had fallen absolutely head over heels for Sam Torres.

  With my spirits lifted, I decided to make dinner for my mom and me. I walked over to her studio, and knocked on the glass door. Her eyes didn't move from the computer that she was typing on.

  I knocked again. Her eyes glanced towards me, then away, her fingers still moving. Her hair was tied up high in a messy bun, some peices falling lose. "What?" she asked, barely audible through the thick glass. She was still typing, and her eyes were focused on her work.

 I opened the door slightly, and asked her, "What do you want for dinner? I'll cook tonight." She pulled her eyes from her work just enough to give me a fake smile. "Really hun? Thats very nice. I'll eat whatever you make." and then went back to her work, the keyboard clicking furiously.

   I wanted her to ask me why I got home from school so late. I wanted her to ask me how my day was. I wanted to tell her about Sam. She clearly didn't want to know, so I stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me.