Becoming a Good Girl Ch. 01

It was warm, but not the kind of sultry warmth that one dreams of when they're shivering inside a wool coat in winter. It was a balmy, sweaty heat that stuck to your skin. Sam was growing moodier the longer she took to pack up her last boxes and carry them from the railed porch to her car. The sun on her skin was beginning to summon sweat along her brow. The stairs creaked under her weight as she made her final descent and strode across the dry yard, her sneakers crunching through the grass.

Sam was a fresh high school graduate, determined not to let her university experience be the same as school had been.

High school had not been a forgiving or charitable time for Sam and so, when she finally packed all of her poetry books, novels and plays into the flimsy cardboard box to be shoved into her old Volkswagen, she had decided that the only thing different between university and high school would be her attitude. The car was loaded up past all of the windows except the windscreen and smelled of potting soil from her indoor plants which had undoubtedly become unpotted in the packing process. Sam wasn't about to unpack all of her work to find them. She lazily pushed against the car door with her hip to be sure it was properly closed and looked up at her childhood home. The typical white washed beach-side cottage that every kid thinks is the perfect gig... until seagulls move into your chimney and salt air peels all your paint off the shingles. Sam rolled her eyes and tried to sigh the sentimentality out of her anxious body. She had loved growing up with the ocean a few feet away, and had delighted in her sleepy neighbours and the small town that had nurtured a love of reading and hiking and soft jazz...

But she was so sure that the change of scenery would open her up to more, that she wanted desperately not to miss her small town. Her parents had already said their goodbyes and were off at her brother's hockey match; so there were no teary, whining partings and cloying demands to read her bible. Sam's family, the Haddingers', were a fiercely religious collective with strict doctrine... which is what Sam's psychologist suggested drove her to extreme anxiety and a borderline eating disorder. They would be missed, but only in theory. The tall young girl eventually plucked the courage to straighten up, wave her old house goodbye and climb in her car. She sat down heavily behind the wheel and clipped herself in. "Okay, this is... Okay. We're going to be fine." she looked at herself in the rear-view mirror and smiled forcibly. She looked away grumpily, not even fooling herself.

About a half hour into the trip, the sounds of a soft, lilting saxophone drifted up from inside Sam's handbag, which had been tossed on the floor of the passenger side. She reached blindly for the suede bag without moving her left hand from the steering wheel and answered the ringing without looking at who it was. "Hey there care bear! " buzzed the voice across the line. Sam bit her lip and frowned, desperately wishing that she hadn't answered. "Uh... hi there Devon."

It took about twenty minutes, but eventually Sam and Devon fell into the routine that she was accustomed to, whereby Devon absorbed her anxieties by becoming a living version of her journal. She began to talk without even thinking about what she was saying, forgetting that he was on the other line at times. He never interrupted, and NEVER remembered what she had said afterwards. So Sam suspected that he was as focused on her as she was in him, during these times. She found it therapeutic and felt that it was one of Devon's most useful attributes of his limited uses to her.

She began to monologue about becoming more present in her body and attempting to live outside of herself in the new world of university. She heard a slight murmur of "Whaaaa'?" from Devon and so switched to a more superficial, applicable mode of explanation. "I'll... wear make up every day and tie up my hair..." she jabbered, the cell phone between her cheek and denim-covered shoulder. "I don't know, Samantha, I don't like the sound of that." he drawled, clearly displeased that she was cleaning up her act. Sam gritted her teeth upon hearing her full name and nearly hung up but frightened herself at the thought of the back-lash that action might have. She didn't feel that she identified with her given name at all, and Devon insisted on using it whenever he was displeased with her. ‎One of the other things Sam was happy not to have to fake missing was Devon. While on the phone with him, she could get away with pulling faces at his idiotically transparent comments or simply not listening to him at all. Sam was waiting for the right moment during her first semester to split with him... seeing as she hadn't had the courage over the break. "Listen Devon, I just want to fit in... you wouldn't understand. It's not about what I like or what I want, it's about potential. True potential lies beyond what you know about yourself. True self is so separate from who I am now that I guarantee I haven't even caught a glimpse of it."

"Are you saying that you don't know who you are? Who you are is lovely. I love the you that you are."

"Well, your opinions aren't the be-all and end-all Dev." she snapped, growling as the traffic light ahead of her turned red. He was dumb struck at first and then began to disjointedly state his case, his voice pitching as he grew more aggravated. ‎Sam dismissed his offence fairly quickly and hung up as soon as she was able without further upsetting him. She threw her slim silver phone onto the vinyl seat next to her and turned her radio up. She had been driving for some time now and desperately needed a reprieve, music would do just fine.

As she allowed herself to relax and listen, she pondered her discontent with Devon and how it was that she came to be in a relationship with him. The HOW was fairly simple and she was unperturbed by the mechanics... it was the sustainability and the lying to herself that she was unhappy about. When it came down to it, Sam didn't even like Devon. They had met at a mutual friend's 21st birthday and had unfortunately been intoxicated enough to have a short and disappointing stint in the upstairs bathroom which ended with Devon's first orgasm and Sam realising her first huge, honest-to-god fuck up. When she thought about it afterwards she couldn't recall what had inspired her to even venture so far as to show him any interest to begin with, but not much can be said for the soundness of the intoxicated mind. Nevertheless, she had made the mistake. As soon as he had finished she slipped away from the large, muscular man while he panted against the shower door and quickly picked up her clothes. Once she was dressed she turned back around to see Devon, dark hair and thick beard not all that unappealing, still slumped halfway up in the shower. She rolled her eyes internally and brought her fingers together in front of her nervously. He wasn't looking at her. "So, I'm going... downstairs."

This soft statement seemed to revitalise him and he surged out of the shower and grabbed her hand, stark naked and looking much too eager to be respectable.

"Wait! Wait, wait please. Can I have your... your number?"

Sam should have said no then and been done with it. But she was far too drunk and far too empathetic to refuse him. She internally vowed not to call him or to speak of the event to anyone. However, after roughly a month of him badgering her, she had agreed to go out with him and had fooled herself into thinking that she might actually like him... but the longer they were together the more irritating, desperate and controlling he was becoming. ‎Sam was at a point where she couldn't stand to look at him, let alone allow him to touch her. She hadn't had sex with him more than once after the first time and it had been a painful experience for her; emotionally and physically. And orgasms weren't even on the table for her. Devon wasn't a small guy, he was bulky and muscular with thin dusty hair all over his body. But he was brutish and insensitive towards the world, and valued his own comfort above all else. One cane imagine how the 'romantic love making' played out for *her*.

The longer Sam thought about it, the angrier she became and so, as she reached her first pit stop promised herself that she would put him out of her mind until the time came for him to be cut loose.

It was another two hour drive to the university campus and Sam had run through all of the options about how best to deal with her room mate. She had received confirmation of her spot in the co-ed dormitories months previous but hadn't been told who her room mate was. She was desperately hoping it would be someone in a similar course to her. Once she arrived at the campus she checked in at the gate and drove straight towards the three story brick-face building labelled on her map. She leaned forward and scanned the signs to be sure, driving much slower than before. She squinted up at the building and sped up to a more agreeable pace when she realised that she was in the right place. As she put her foot down on the accelerator she dropped her eyes from the building to the road and yelped, as a skateboarder slid directly in front of her car. She slammed in her breaks and tried to pull towards the curb to miss him. ‎

The front of her car barely avoided him and he buckled in panic, clipping his leg on her bumper and falling over into the tarmac with a sickeningly heavy thud.

"What the fuck man?!" she yelled, switching off the car and quickly climbing out to check that he was alright. The skateboard rolled towards her feet and she slammed a sneaker down on the one side to flip it up into her hand. She marched around the front of her car to address the perpetrator who had tried to kill himself in front of her car. The perp in question was a tall, dark haired man wearing board shorts and cheesy fully-black sneakers. He was on his back, propped up on his bare elbows and grinning up at Sam with his scruffy hair over his eyes. Sam scowled and reached down to him. "You okay, man?" she asked grumpily, hauling him up and shoving his skateboard against his chest. "Yeah princess. I'm all good. Did I bust your car up?" he smirked and falsely dusted the bumper with the back of a tanned hand. She sighed and slid her hands into her back pockets, looking over her shoulder to be sure that her car hadn't caused a back-up. She looked back at him stonily. "Yeah, the body work will probably cost as much as your cheap ass skateboard. So no worries."

The boy laughed and blushed slightly, shifting from one foot to the other. "Yeah, whatever man." he croaked, clearly shocked by her hostility. He rubbed one of his elbows slowly and Sam could clearly see that they were a little cut up from where he'd landed on them, though he wasn't paying much attention to them. He stared at her intently, grinning winningly.

"Just glad I didn't kill you." she muttered and moved away as though to climb into her car.

"Yeah me too princess."

She frowned deeper and strapped herself in, switching the car on mechanically once she had slammed her door closed. She had to admit that she was a little shaky and had honestly dodged a huge bullet. The boy leaned down and put his forearm in her open window. "Hey... so I'll see you around then, to arrange the payment for damages?"

Sam squinted up at him vaguely and smiled her first genuine smile. She chuckled, surprising both of them. "Listen man, If you can find me, I'll let you pay the damages AND do the body work yourself."

"Didn't think there was enough damage to warrant

bodywork..." he scoffed, looking over the bonnet as though to double check.

She made eye contact and then glanced down at herself suggestively. "Yeah, you're probably right."

She pulled off and he pushed himself up of her door quickly, grinning after her as she drove towards the parking lot.

Xxxxx

Sam had too many boxes to make it up to her dormitory in less than a handful of trips and so, once she had found her dorm number on the floor plan posted outside of the building, she grabbed the topmost box from her backseat, closed the door with a swing of her hip and made her way inside. She had hoped that she might have help from her roommate... She was not so lucky.

After walking up to the second floor which was allocated to the girls, she was exhausted from the weight of the box. As she walked, she alternated greeting the excited strangers milling around her and reading the numbers on the doors. The corridor was well lit with huge arched windows on either end and softly set down lights in the ceiling. The floor was carpeted in a thick beige shag and the color in combination with the pale blue walls dated the building somewhere around 30 years since it had been redecorated. But despite this, Sam felt immediately settled as she walked along the space between girls trying to force odd buts of furniture into their rooms.

"112, 113... 116... 120. Finally." she muttered to herself as she read the little gold numbers posted on the door. She reached her dorm and pulled heavily on the handle, twisting her hand around underneath the box she was carrying. The box tilted with the movement and she squealed helplessly as she saw it begin to slip, her hands couldn't move or it was sure to tip out all of its contents.

"Wooop! I got it!" came a voice, and a sudden weight came off of Sam's arms. Sam looked to her left and found that the weight was being shared by a set of new hands. "Hi there neighbour. I'm Tania. I live in 118." a gorgeous, athletic-looking girl announced gleefully, a teasing lilt in her tone. She blinked huge round black eyes at Sam and grinned. "Hi, I'm S-Sam." she stuttered, stating at Tania's gorgeous creamy dark skin and glossy curls. "I got your box, if you'd like to open the door?" she asked, heaving the box out of Sam's arms. "Gees, thanks! It's been killing me."

She turned and shoved the door open, and was met with a huge cavernous white room. She stepped inside and moved out of the way as Tania put down the box at the door. Both women looked around the room in awe. It was a large open-plan space with exposed rafters and a big ovular window against the farthest wall. Beneath the window was a lone double bed, equipped with a thick spongey mattress. In the opposite corner was an empty book shelf mounted on the wall and a huge writing desk with a blue office chair. Sam grinned and turned to look at Tania. "Are all of the rooms like this??"

Tania laughed and shook her head, making her volumes of hair shudder gleefully. She walked a few steps deeper into the room, putting her hands on her rounded hips. "Not at all girl, for starters... this is the coveted single-sleeper room. Everyone's been hoping they get it."

Sam stared blankly at the double bed and then back at Tania without any insight. "What do you mean? I don't have a room mate? But..." she dropped her voice as disappointment washed over her. "But I really wanted the full college experience."

Tania laughed and put her hand on Sam's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't be stressed girl, we're right across the hall. You can come stay with us when you get tired of not having to fight with someone about doin' the laundry."

Xxxxx

Over the next two days Sam spent almost all of her time setting up her new home. She moved all of her books into the bookshelf first, then unpacked her bed spread and her ornaments. It was at that point that she realised she only had a single bed fitting and nothing to dress her bed with. Unperturbed she walked across the hall halfway through the day and knocked on Tania and Haylee's door. Haylee answered the door, rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm. "Hey Sammy..." she yawned bleerily. "You okay girl?"

Sam nodded and smiled reassuringly, unsurprised that the sleepy girl had only just risen. The first time Sam has encountered Haylee was the day previous and Tania had been forced to wake her for the introduction, despite it being 17:45 in the afternoon. She was a short, plump girl with dead straight blonde hair and milky skin, she was tanned on her face and freckled in such a way that told Sam she came from somewhere too hot for her complection.

"Is Tania in? I wanted to know if you two felt like helping me find the nearest mall. I need sheets for my new double bed."

"I'm here babe, and hell yeah I'll come shopping with you." Tania called from somewhere inside the room, sounding eager to get out. Haylee moved aside and left the door open, inviting Sam in without having to say the words. Their space was much more cluttered than Sam's but was a gorgeous fusion of Haylee's lazy, pastel style and Tania's aggressive beach-bum influence; leaving the space looking like a fashion of a beach shack and a candy store. Blue fairy lights hung from both beds and plastic flower crowns adorned the lampshade beside Tania's bed

There were posters from Hawaii on the walls and a furry pink carpet shaped like a cloud on the floor next to a pink bong. It was a strange, girlish mix. But Sam thought that it was quaint.

Once Haylee had put on clothes that didn't smell of sleep and brownies the three of them began the walk down to the parking lot. As they made it to the fist floor, all three girls' found their eyes caught by the prime male specimen milling about the corridor. The ground and second floor belonged to the girl's, while the first and third belonged to the boys, to get to the bottom you had to cross territories eventually.

Hey, you know anyone here yet?" Haylee asked the others, her pinky finger slipping into her mouth as she watched two dark skinned men toss a tennis ball to each other.

Sam snorted loudly and relayed the story of how she had nearly killed some idiot in a skateboard driving in, but that she didn't know what year he was in. As each dorm was arranged by year as well as by gender and, in some cases, faculty of study; this was quite an obstacle. As she finished the story and began to descend the stairs- however, she looked back to be sure the others were still keeping pace with her and caught sight of the idiot skateboarder in question. She excitedly pointed to the dark haired man still wearing his black sneakers, down the corridor and to the left, apparently chatting up a crowd of girls who were tagging along behind the footballers.

Tania looked back at Sam in horror. "Oh, fuck no. I went to high school with that creep. His name is Kevin Owen. He was into some really fucked up shit in high school, his dissertation in Psychology was about fetishism and he was a little *too* into it I think. Apparently he made his last girlfriend do some seriously scary stuff. She had to call him Daddy or something, master or something. Lord who knows. It was fucked UP. Stay away from him." Tania said, her eyes roving over him judgmentally. Sam frowned and looked at his figure as he turned the corner and walked down the stairs opposite to them. "For real? He doesn't seem the type." she muttered, but Tania was already walking past her and towards the ground floor.

"What exactly is 'the type' babe? A creep is a creep." Haylee seethed, shoving her hands into her pockets. Sam couldn't help but feel as though they were over reacting about the situation. She understood that consent was an important issue in relationships, but surely some light kink was pretty normal in long-term relationships? Sam frowned deeply and tried to put it out of her mind.

However as they came to the bottom of the stairs, she was faced with the exact face she was grappling to expel. Owen had the decency to look surprised, though Sam imagined that he must have seen her across the hallway, in the same way that they had seen him, and sprinted across the length of the ground floor to reach their stairs in time. His dark hair was ruffled around his ears and he stuck his fingers through his fringe as he approached her, further disrupting it.