June 13th –

When I woke up again, I was back in my beautiful prison cell. This time it was different. Sam was there. He sat near the edge of the bed watching something on the television (which was new), with my injured foot in his lap.

“What are you doing?” I demand, retracting my foot. “What in the heck is going on here, Sam? Tell me the truth!”

He held up his hands defensively. “Relax, sweetheart. You are safe here.”

“Relax nothing!” I pull my knees to my chest, trying to put distance between us. “You said I wasn’t kidnapped and here you take me back to the room I spent the last week kidnapped!”

“Katie darling,” he began. “You’re overreacting.” I looked around for a weapon to throw at him before settling on a nearby book. I was reacting just enough for someone in my condition.

“Darling, let me explain.”

“Start talking. Why am I here? What’s going on?”

Sam’s face fell. “I can’t tell you that.”

I scooted to the opposite side of the bed, away from Sam and towards the open door. “Wrong answer.”

“Katie, wait!” In a blink of an eye, Sam was by my side holding my elbow. How did he do that? I am too old to stumble into a teen vampire romance story!

“What is it, Sam?” At this point, I could feel myself about to cry again. I never had considered myself to be one of those girls who cried at everything but over the course of the last week, I may have been wrong.

Sam’s molasses-colored eyes softened, and I could feel myself getting pulled into the warm, comforting void that is Sam Harper. “Katie…” he said, kissing my forehead. “You must know that I would never do anything to hurt you. You must believe that. Please.”

I did believe him, that stupid, handsome man. “Then, what’s going on Sam? Why won’t you tell me anything?”

His brow furrowed as he chewed over what he was going to say next. “Katie, it’s not that I can’t tell you what’s going on. I am afraid that you won’t understand.”

Now, Diary. This made me mad. Like She-Hulk mad. Like a hundred years of feminist aggression mad. I pushed out of Sam’s embrace. “Why won’t I understand? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No. I don’t think you’re stupid.” Sam’s nostrils flared. He inhaled sharply like he was willing himself to be calm but failing. He looked almost… bigger if that were possible? “Is it so wrong to try and keep my girlfriend safe?”

Girlfriend. I had been waiting a month for Sam to call me that. If I wasn’t stressed out of my mind and on the verge of another torrent of tears, I would have been ecstatic. I would have been in Sam’s arms for some reason was exactly where I wanted to be, and we’d be making out like teenagers in the backseat of their parents’ car. Instead, I locked myself into the enormous bathroom.

___

(Later that Day)

“Katie,” Sam pleaded softly. “Please let me in. I’m sorry for all of this. This wasn’t how I wanted it to happen.”

I dropped the little, decorative soap figurines I had been playing with. The sadness in his voice made my heart hurt. I had spent roughly three hours in this spa-like bathroom. I was hungry, yes. Antsy, yes. But I was super clean. Personal hygiene is super important, people.

All joking aside. My anger towards Sam and his “protect my woman” idea had faded away. My parents used to get on me for not thinking things through sometimes, regarding my personal safety. I still wore my headphones while crossing the street and accidentally got stranded at a rest stop in Tijuana because I wandered away from my group. I wanted to run out to Sam, but I couldn’t.

I just wished that Sam would be honest with me. I deserved that much as his girlfriend, or whatever I was to him. I also wanted some sense of normalcy again. I missed the little plants I was trying to grow in the kitchen window at Nana’s house. Heck! I even missed working my shifts at the grocery store.

“Katie… Please…”