First Choice (Sam Wilkinson/Nash Grier)

Chapter 42

Sam walked up my lawn, shouting, "What the fuck Jasmine?" I was a little scared at Sam's angry state, backing into my house as he followed, storming through my doorway. He stood there, in the middle of my living room staring at me.

"Matt told me that you guys had a date yesterday, which obviously didn't happen right? That's why you were crying right?" he shouted, crossing the room to stand right in front of me, continuing to take steps towards me as I backed away from him.

"It was all a misunderstanding that you don't know shit about. And I didn't even forgive him yet, not like it's any of your business." I cried out, panicked as my fingers came in contact with the wall behind me. I wasn't really afraid of him, but more afraid of having an argument that I was trapped in. I wanted to run away, obviously impossible now as he braced himself by placing his hands against the wall on either side of my head, cornering me.

"I was here holding you while you cried and it's none of my business? I can't believe you right now."

He glared at me, his hot breath hitting my face. This would have been so hot if he weren't yelling at me. I didn't say anything as he continued.

"And then on top of that, you make out with him right after."

Ah, that's what this was. He wasn't angry. He was jealous. Jealous that I'd planned to go on a date with Nash, jealous I'd kissed him right in front of Sam.

"It was just a kiss." I muttered, averting my gaze.

"I don't care. You deserve better than any of that. I was obviously wrong when I used to think Nash deserved someone like you, you deserve better!" He shouted, repeating himself.

I was sick and tired of his possessiveness. I was tired of him thinking he had a say in any of this and I was done with it. He didn't get to tell me who I could and couldn't be in a relationship with. He didn't get to decide who I dated, I did.

"THAN SHOW ME BETTER!" I shouted right back at him, my frustration bubbling up to the surface. I wasn't afraid anymore. This was my house he stormed into, my relationship he was trying to control, and my choice who I wanted. I was fucking done with him thinking he had some type of say in any of it.

"If you're implying what I think you are than I've already been over this that we can never be anything. I told you how much I cared about you but I made it clear that this is all platonic. I knew I wasn't good enough for you and now I know Nash isn't either."

"I'm so done with you right now. You think you can just storm in here and yell at me. Well guess what? I can date Nash if I want, I can kiss him all I want, I can fall for him all I want and you aren't going to do shit about it! As far as I'm concerned, you don't get to have a say in anything I do anymore." I yelled at him, word after word hitting him harder than the next, his hard exterior crumbling before my eyes, replaced by a saddened and hurt frown.

It wasn't going to be Jasmine and Sam any more. It was going to be Jasmine and then Sam. I came first now and I was my own damn person and anyone who refused to acknowledge that could go fuck themselves.

"I'm your best friend. You don't think that what I say matters?" He asked, his voice quiet and small suddenly because now I had the upper hand.

I scoffed, staring him straight in the eye, "Yeah, cause what I said mattered when you started dating Sarah, huh?"

He tried to speak but I cut him off, "You're a real fucking hypocrite, you know that? You're so fucking jealous all the time but when you and Sarah first started dating you told me that I should just mind my own business because you guys weren't ending anytime soon." I recalled bitterly, the first night I ever cried over Sam. He had a way of being cruel with his words at times and I'd told him how I really felt.

He'd always consoled me but I still remembered how he'd said those hurtful words as a way to try and deter me from liking him any longer, even though they did the exact opposite, because I still remember the way he knocked on my door for hours after I slammed it in his face. I still remembered how he apologized over and over, kissing my face all over except for the one place where I needed his lips the most, admitting to me that he felt the same but that he needed to be with Sarah. I still, to this day, can't figure out why he caused us all this pain, all this trouble. There was a reason, there always was one.

Pain flashed in his eyes, he probably felt a pang of guilt, maybe betrayal. We'd both promised not to bring it up ever again, the incident having caused us both a lot of pain and unclear feelings, but I desperately needed him to see how selfish and biased he was being.

He stayed quite as static anger in the room dissolved. Now it was just two best friends in a room, both having said some things they wished they could take back, both feeling a little bruised. So when Sam turned and crossed the room swiftly to the door, mumbling "I'll see you Monday morning then." Before he left, slamming it behind him, the issue remained unresolved, just like everything else when it came to Sam and I.