100 What Ifs..

Chapter 12 ~ Stupid Tomato

Sam's P.O.V.

"Alright, fine but only because you asked so nicely." I said sarcastically. Mia just smiled in return. We walked back to the cars and impatient boys. I saw from the corner of my eye, Mia nodded to Nash.

Oh so they had this planned out. Great.

"Okay, well I'm going to ride with Cameron home. So that leaves you two. I expect Sam to get home safely Nash. Well bye now." Mia waved us from the passenger seat and I waved back.

Nash waked me to my side of the car and opened the door for me. Once I got in he closed the door and jogged over to his side.

Even though it was small gesture I was still taken aback. Nash has never done that to anyone else so why me? Sam, don't think too much of the gesture he was just trying to be nice.

But why would he do that for me?

Because he pities you...

But he doesn't seem like that, my inner me said.

Trust me he pities you. I argued back.

Wait why am I arguing with myself. Gosh I'm messed up.

"Ahem." Someone coughed and I found out it was Nash. Confused, I asked, "Wait, what?" He smirk just and said, "I asked you a question, do I need to repeat myself?"

Obviously yes. "Ehaha...no.." I said uncertain, "Yea.."

"I asked you if you wanted to go to a fast food restaurant. Do you?" He asked once more. "If you don't mind, then yes please." I answered, smiling a cheeky smile. He chuckled and his face turned seriously in one quick moment.

Wow, bipolar much?

We also need to patch up your arm.

********

"I would like to have number three please." I said to the cashier. He smiled and said, "Sure, we'll have it done in no time for you guys." I smiled back and said, "Thank you," I looked at his tag, "Josh."

I grabbed a plastic cup and walked over to the new vending machine. It's not really a vending machine it's like the one where you press the button of your choice and you soon will have a cup full of your favorite soda.

My favorite is root beer, oh root beer, here comes mama!

I wonder what Nash is doing. He said to order for him and wait for him when he's done with his call. I wonder what that call is about. He seemed pretty serious and tensed when he looked at the caller I.d. I wonder if he's done with that call. I wonder when our food is ready and done, I'm starving! I wonder - my thoughts where cut off short by a soft but cold thing sliding down my hand.

Oh, shit. Overload, we have an overload on boat Pepsi! No sooner than five seconds I hear a angelic laugh. "I'm guessing you were daydreaming about me in bed, eh?" He said into my ear. I would be lying if I said that didn't give me the chills and that I kinda liked it.

"No way in hell would I think such a thing, Nash." I said. There's no point in arguing when I'm sure my cheeks are igniting with flames. Nash smirked at me, oh how I would love to slap the smirk off. "Whatever you say, tomato."

Urgh!! Stupid tomato.

***********

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked Nash. "Uh, it's some time." He answered. Eyes till on the road. "That's not an answer." I argued. Nash turned half way facing me, "So?" 

I sighed, "Why do you have to be some little bitch?" I asked, more to myself than to him. "What?" He asked. I didn't answer instead I turned to the window. "I heard what you said." He continued. "Then why ask, 'what'?" I asked challenging.

 "Is this my 'thank you' for helping you get out of that bathroom?" He asked with a serious dead tone. "I didn't need your help." I said, surprisingly calm.

"It sure didn't look like it." Nash replied. "What the hell does that suppose to mean? Do I look weak to you?" I hate it when people see me as weak, it's not funny nor right.. in a way.

"No, I'm just saying that you needed my help." Nash stopped at a red light and turned to face me while I kept looking straight. Nash continued, "Why is it do hard for you to get help?" 

"Why does this concern you? Why do you want to know?" I asked, getting tired of this argument. This is exactly why I don't want to go home with him.

"What is that suppose to mean ?" He asked. I shook my head, "I don't know. All I know is that I want out." Nash pressed on the gas pedal and said, "Now what does that suppose to mean?" 

I looked at him soaked in all the features he has on his face. He's handsome, cute, hot and all that. I forgot who I was hanging out. He's Nash, he's the most popular boy in our school. It's not the clothes that makes him popular. It's his persona - he's a bad boy. Of course he won't understand. 

"Stop the car and let me walk home. Don't even try to argue with me, it makes me want out even more." I said through clenched teeth. "But-" He started.

I cut him off. Seriously does this boy know when to stop? "Nash, do not argue with me. Thank you for saving my ass back there but no I just want to be alone and a walk back to home seems more attractive than Channing Tatum."

Nash stopped at three blocks away from my house. I opened the door and slammed it closed, flinching at how much force I closed it with. Oops, sorry Nashy.

After walking a block I thought to myself. 

Was I very dramatic?

Yes, you were. In fact you should go and call him and apologize to him right now!

I scoffed at myself. What are you, my mother?

As if.

But inside me kept on telling my that my so called conscience is somewhat right. I picked my phone out of my pocket and turned it on. 

What am I doing? I never listen to my conscience. I'm not that thoughtful.