The Friends List Ch. 07

I kept thinking about it for the rest of the day, and that night I texted Sam. Are you okay?

Yeah, she answered. Why do you ask?

If that's how your family treats you, I'm sorry to have seen it, I responded. It was really sad seeing how little respect they had for you, and for what's important to you.

It took an hour or so, but the response finally came back. Thanks. They're really not that bad, though.

I decided not to argue with her. A few minutes later, another text came in. They just left, and I could use a drink after the day I've had. Do you want to come over?

Aren't the dorms dry? I asked.

Technically, but I've got a stash here. And Melody's spending the night at her boyfriend's place.

I didn't have to be asked twice. Half an hour later, I was knocking on her door in Victoria Hall. The party residence seemed to be having an off-night, with the halls mostly silent as I walked to Samantha's third floor double room.

She answered the door in a yellow Queen's hoodie that at first glance appeared to be unaccompanied by pants, but after hugging me hello and sitting down, I realized she was wearing a pair of tiny gym shorts. We sat down on her bed, and she poured me a shot of lemon gin from a bottle sitting out on her nightstand.

"How's the contraband gin?" I asked.

"I'm 19, so I'm pretty popular around here," she laughed. "Loads of kids here aren't old enough to buy it yet."

She raised a plastic cup to me and I clinked my cup against hers. We both downed the shot, then she poured again.

"I'm a little taken aback by what I saw earlier," I opened. "Is that how your family always treats you?"

Samantha shrugged. "Pretty much. When your text came in earlier, I was a little annoyed at you being so blunt about calling them out, but you're right. Just because I'm used to being treated this way doesn't make it all right. Fuck me for trying to do something selfless with my life, right?"

"I'm sorry." I leaned over and hugged her. "I think your studies have value, and the place in your heart where that comes from does too. You care about people so much, and that's one of the best things about you. I hope you never lose your idealism. The world won't ever become a better place if people like you don't keep trying to make it one."

She smiled weakly and looked at the floor. "Thanks. I'm trying to believe that. Dad was right, though. I do love Les Mis, though I identified more as a kid with Cosette than with the revolutionaries. But maybe they're right. Maybe this is just champagne socialism. Maybe I am a poseur. Maybe I should just go to med school after all."

"Don't let them influence you like that. I like that you follow your own path. It takes courage to be true to yourself."

The look in Sam's eyes melted my heart a little.

"Why don't they respect you?" I finally asked. "If I can ask such a simplistic question."

Sam took a deep, long breath. "I have no idea. All I can say is that from childhood, I never fit in. My parents always made me feel like I was a disappointment to them."

"How do you mean?"

"Did you ever wonder if you were adopted?"

I thought for a moment. "No. Mom and I are too alike. She says I have some traits of my sperm donor too, but I look and act a lot like her, and also like my cousins on her side of the family."

"I can see that, though I don't really know your Mom very well. But I've always wondered why I don't fit in. Even when I was a kid, Bryan used to tease me saying I was adopted, and I had to behave or the stork would come and take me back. And I guess I just got used to feeling like I wasn't really a part of the family. Bryan is just like my Mom and Leah is just like my Dad. I don't look or act like any of them.

"Even when you look at my extended family, I'm the only tall woman, and the only one with tits. Everyone else is short and slender. I don't think I look stereotypically Jewish, even, while the rest of them all have those Ashkenazi features like the big noses."

"Is there a possibility you're adopted?" I asked.

"I don't think so. I've seen pictures of my Mom pregnant with me before I was born, and there are loads of baby pictures. But I'd believe it if I found out that some nurse switched the bassinets on us."

I leaned over to give her a hug, which she accepted. I had been intending to pull back, but she curled in and against me, leaning back on her bed with me and wrapping her leg around mine. I wasn't about to refuse a cuddle.

"So that translates to them not respecting your decisions, huh?"

"It's the story of my life," she answered. "I've never fit in anywhere. Not in school, not at home, not at the temple. Even here at university, it's been good, I've made friends and stuff, but I don't know how to just relax and be part of the group. I get invited to parties a lot, but I feel like the boys just invite me to have someone to hit on. Once the word got around that I had a boyfriend last month, I stopped getting invited as often.

"And the girls are just as catty as they were in high school. I haven't really made any close female friends. My roommate Melody is okay, but we have nothing in common. We get along fine, but we'll never be besties."

"And people use you?"

"You know it. You've heard me complain before. You're one of the only people I've ever known that's given to me without ever asking much in return. You treat me like a person. I value that, so much. It's always made me want to do nice things for you, knowing that you don't expect it."

I had started absent-mindedly running my free hand down Sam's lower back and around her waist and hips as she talked. In the back of my mind I was aware that was historically a good way to turn her on, and I knew that she knew that I knew. But I kept doing it, and she didn't stop me.

"Why did you sleep with Natalie?" Sam asked, point-blank.

"I already told you. We were horny, drunk and single."

"I know. I just... I wish you hadn't." The hurt was evident in Samantha's tone of voice.

"I'd heard you two were fighting, but I never understood why Natalie bothers you so much when Laura, Monique and Kirsten didn't."

"Because they were all over the summer, before we really started hooking up. Natalie was after me."

"I'm really sorry, Samantha, I just don't understand why that makes a difference to you." I had a good idea exactly why, but I wanted to see what she'd say.

"Because..." she trailed off. "Because I thought I was special to you."

"You are!" I looked deep into her brown eyes. "You mean the world to me. I never wanted things with you to end. You ended it with me."

"I had the opportunity to trade in a fuck-buddy for a real boyfriend. That doesn't mean I don't miss having you around."

"I could have been your real boyfriend."

Sam said nothing, but I noticed her legs gently part, the way they always did when she was starting to get wet. She glanced at me furtively as I kept gently rubbing her back and hips. I wanted to kiss her, but I forced myself not to.

After a few minutes of gently touching her in silence, I gathered my courage and again asked what I'd been wondering for over a month. "Why are you with Jacob?"

She looked up at me, but still said nothing.

"You never talk about him," I continued. "I haven't seen any pictures of you two together on social media. You don't have any pictures of him up in your room here. Even your friends don't understand why you're together."

"You're dangerous to hang out with," she answered, sitting up and downing another shot of gin then curling up back into me.

Her non-answer took me by surprise for the moment, but avoiding tough conversations was typical for her.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I've missed you," she said seductively. She suddenly took me by the hand and slid it slowly down between her legs. I could feel familiar heat down there. She guided my fingertips to the firm nub of her clit, easily discernible through her shorts. I started gently stroking it in circles, the way I knew she liked. I instantly became hard in my underwear, and with her leg resting between mine, I could tell she noticed.

"Is this a good idea?" I asked rhetorically.

"No," she moaned. "But I need it. I need you. I had such a shitty day and I need you to make me feel special."

"I meant what I said," I insisted as I continued rubbing her clit through her shorts. "I could be your boyfriend."

"This would still be illicit, since I already have one and all," Sam said breathlessly. "But you're like a drug to me. I was never into actual drugs, but I'm addicted to you. Nothing makes me feel as good as you do."

I knew how quickly Sam could lose control when she got turned on, and something inside me made me suddenly pull my hand away from her crotch. "I want to do this, but I don't know if I'm comfortable making you cheat on your boyfriend."

Sam sighed, frustrated, and inched away from me, moving to the other side of the tiny dorm bed, facing the wall. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you in this awkward position. I'm just so frustrated."

"Frustrated, why?"

"Life, parents, Jacob... you name it."

"You're not really answering any of my questions tonight, you know."

"I know."

"I really like you, Samantha. We could be more than friends. More than fuck buddies. We could... be together. For real." It was out there now. I could feel my heart thumping with nervousness in my chest. She rolled back to look at me, briefly making eye contact before turning away again.

"I wish we could," she finally said sadly. "But I don't see how."

"Why not?"

"Because I have a boyfriend already."

"A boyfriend you never talk about, and whom you don't even seem to be that into."

"I know. But what kind of girl would I be, if I settled for dating the guy who ranked me fourth out of five?"

I turned her face back towards mine and locked eyes on her. "I don't think of you that way and you know that. You mean something to me. You mean everything to me. You're my number one. The others were just casual sex."

"That's the problem. Those girls all mean something to me, Peter. They're my best friends. How am I supposed to show up to a party with you on my arm when all my friends have seen you naked, sucked your dick, had the best sex of their lives with you? How am I supposed to feel confident when they're all going to be comparing notes every time I talk to them about us?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I didn't have an answer. The silence hung in the room like a lead weight.

"Exactly my point," Samantha finally broke the silence, rolling back to face me and wrapping her arm back around me. "You know how good I am at avoiding my feelings, but... I like you too, Peter. I really like you. I like the way you make me feel special; the way you always encourage me and support me and push me to be the best version of me. You're everything I could want in a boyfriend, and I wish I could say yes to you.

"But I can't be your girlfriend in these circumstances. My self-confidence is fragile enough as it is without constantly wondering what people are thinking about us. And I think you need to go, before I do something with you tonight that I'm really going to regret." She pulled back from me, and I felt her hand drift over my hard package as she withdrew.

My brain was running a mile a minute as I thought through what she'd just said. She liked me. It was out in the open. But it was a hell of a tough situation she'd be in if we dated. I sat up in her bed, still in shock, and moved robotically to the door to put my shoes on. She watched me from the bed, an odd look on her face that I interpreted as a mixture of sadness and arousal.

As I put my heavy winter coat on, I finally regained my bearings as I looked back at her. I've got a shot here. I can't just leave. I looked back at her. "I want you to know that I would trade every sexual experience I've had this past year to be with you."

"I wish it was that easy. But you can't change the past."

"Yeah. I know. I wish I could."

We stared at each other for what felt like forever. I could feel my cock still throbbing in my chinos, and I could hear my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. I had no idea what to say, but something was keeping my feet rooted in place. Sam was laying on her bed, her legs spread, eyes boring holes in me, wordlessly begging me to fuck her. I could see a hint of pink panties up the leg hole of her tiny shorts. She looked smouldering.

"Do you know when the last time was that I got laid really well?" she finally asked.

"With me, a couple days before Christmas?" I guessed immediately.

"Yeah." She sighed heavily. "It's too dangerous spending time alone with you. You've got me so turned on and you didn't even do anything. I don't know if we should keep seeing each other."

"That can't be what you want," I insisted.

"It isn't, trust me. I think it should be pretty obvious what I want from you right now."

"It is, but I can't be the other man. You know now how I feel about you. I know now how you feel about me. I hope you figure out how to get out of your own way and have what you know you want."

"I've never gotten what I want. You've met my parents now, so you should know that."

"Your parents don't live here. You're in charge of your own destiny now. You're allowed to have nice things. We can be together. All it takes is both of us wanting it to be."

"I've always been attracted to your self-confidence, Peter. But I don't have it the way you do. It's not that simple for me and it never will be. I'm sorry about that."

We stared at each other. God, she was beautiful, and her fuck-me eyes were making it so hard not to go to her.

"I don't want you to, but please, leave me here, otherwise I'm about to make some really bad life choices," she pleaded.

I nodded and turned to go. I wanted to kiss her goodnight, but I knew what one kiss would lead to.

On the walk home, I turned the situation over and over in my head. Now what? I already had known on some level that she still wanted me, but I now knew that she liked me the same way I liked her. And yet, because of the way we'd met and the summer I'd spent sleeping my way through her friend group, it was impossible to see a way we might actually get to be together.

I lay in bed that night, sleepless, thinking about the girl I liked. Samantha always struck me as such a self-assured, self-confident person, and yet the closer I'd gotten to her, the more she'd let me in, the more I'd realized that there was a deeply-rooted insecurity at the core of her personality. She aggressively kept people at arm's length because she was so used to being used and taken for granted and criticized, and that presented as self-confidence to most people, but it didn't mean she felt that way deep down. After meeting her family today, I could finally understand why she was the way she was.

Sam liked me, and she'd all but admitted her relationship with Jacob wasn't going to last. And yet. I'd had sex with four of her friends. They all could compare notes about me, and it was entirely possible that having done that now meant I'd never get to be with her. Moreover, the sexual tension between us tonight made it abundantly clear to me that the attraction between us hadn't died down in the slightest. This meant that if she was serious about us not sleeping together again, she might pull the plug entirely on our friendship if we couldn't keep our hands off each other. It wasn't up to me to keep her from cheating on her boyfriend, but I didn't want to do something unethical, and more than that, I didn't want to lose her as a friend on top of losing her as more than a friend.

What a disaster.

The next morning, I had the sudden urge for some women's intuition on the problem. If our positions were reversed, I think most guys would happily have shown up to a party with a beauty like Samantha Fischer on their arm and not cared about her past. Who cares if she's been with other men before? She picked me. Another man looking at us together would be jealous, not judgmental. That was how my brain worked, and that male perspective was the only one I could really identify with. But I knew women weren't wired like that.

I considered messaging Kirsten, but she'd previously said she wasn't going to share anything else about her best friend. Monique would treat it as a personal challenge to get Sam and I together, which I didn't want, and I also knew that would offend Sam if she found out. Laura certainly wasn't going to do me any favours, and Michelle I wasn't close to. As for Natalie, things were okay again between her and Sam, but still somewhat fragile, and I certainly didn't feel like I was in any position to ask for her advice. That only left one person I could ask - the most confident and self-assured of the friend group, the one who seemed the most intuitive, as well as the one who apparently had the most sexual experience.

"That is a problem", Vanessa's voice came over the phone after I'd finished explaining the situation to her.

"I know. I figured out she has deeper feelings for me, and yet I don't know how to convince her to say yes to what she wants."

"And you came to me for help? I'm flattered, but why me?"

"Because," I explained, "I need a woman's perspective on the issue, because you know Samantha really well, and because you've got self-confidence that she doesn't. Plus, you're intuitive. You pick up on things. You were the only one who figured out Monique liked me. And it's not like I'm asking you to play wingman or help me fuck another one of your friends. Samantha and I both want to be together, I just have to figure out how to help her get out of her own way."

"I know we're getting closer and I'm really glad you asked, but... tell me why should I help you?" Vanessa's tone wasn't challenging or annoyed, more that she didn't seem to get it.

"You don't have to. But it'll make one of your friends happy, and it'll make me happy."

"What's in it for me?"

"I don't know. What do you want?"

Vanessa breathed deeply, thinking. "I don't know. I've never even thought of asking you for anything before."

"Well, one of us had to be the first, I guess."

"Yeah. I'm glad you felt comfortable asking. If this is genuinely something you both want, you shouldn't need my help. Sam will come around on her own, in time. She might be insecure at times, she might overthink things, but she's a smart cookie. I agree with you that it's weird she barely talks about this boyfriend of hers, and I doubt it'll last forever. But you can't make someone want to date you, even when you know she's attracted to you. So, if this is something you want and she doesn't, I can't help you."

"That's fair enough. I don't even think I want the help, I just wanted a woman's perspective. I need insight on how to approach this."

Vanessa was silent for a long time. Finally she spoke up. "I'll tell you what I think without violating her confidence or sharing any of her secrets. I'm only willing to tell you that much because I actually do believe she wants to be with you, deep down. But I want you to tell me, first, how you did it."

"What do you mean? How I did what?"

"How you managed to sleep with all my friends. Laura was shooting fish in a barrel, and Monique was in love with you, but I genuinely didn't see any of the others coming. I know how to seduce a guy as a woman, but I haven't seen that seductive side of you as a man, and I'm genuinely curious. I want to know what you did to make all that happen."

"You want a play-by-play?" I asked incredulously.

"Gross. No. I just want to know how you convinced three girls as different as Kirsten, Natalie and Sam to sleep with you."