Chapter Eight
At 3:30 p.m., the doorbell sounds, barely audible over Madonna's "Material Girl" in the kitchen.
The book Margaret was reading is placed on the coffee table in front of her as she gets up from the couch. Once more, the bell rings. “Someone doesn't know how to remain patient," murmurs Margaret as she reaches for the doorknob.
The tall, brunette boy from art class stands in her doorway.
Samson speaks loud enough to be heard above the music, "Good evening Margaret."
"Welcome in," Margaret responds as she moves aside.
“Could you turn the music down?” Margaret yells in the direction of the kitchen. Madonna changes to Fergi singing "Glamorous," then turned down so they could talk at a normal level. Samson follows Margaret from the living room towards her bedroom.
"Do you like green?" Samson asks sarcastically as he looks around her room.
"Maybe," Margaret says looking down, her thoughts drifting to what he had been wearing the day before.
“Cool,” said Samson.
After a few moments of silence, Margaret asked, "So, do you have any ideas of what you're going to be doing in the art project yet?"
“You're a straightforward type of person then, Margaret," Samson smirked.
She remained silent, completely baffled as to how she could find the way someone said a name alluring.
"Okay, then I suppose so," He remained dissatisfied since he had not received an answer. "Well, the project is to paint your partner doing something they enjoy, so a few things I enjoy are instruments, specific violins, and electric guitars."
Margaret just stared at the boy sitting on the ground in front of her, amused as to how those had nothing in common other than they are string instruments.
"I also like cars, so by the way, whose Buggati is that in your driveway?" He questioned.
Margaret blinked, “oh, um that's my car.”
“Other than instruments and cars I have a passion for taking care of animals, and I play hockey during the winter.”
Margaret stared at Samson, perplexed because she was often questioned about how she was 17 and owned such an expensive vehicle. When she first drove it throughout Michigan, she got an abundance of stares.
"So, you have a lot of interests," commented Margaret.
"I guess you could say that," He grinned. “What about you Margaret?”
She took a moment to think, "Well umm.”
“Oh come on there's got to be something interesting about you,” Samson teased.
Margaret bites her bottom lip as she tries to come up with an answer, "Let's see, I used to live in New York,” she paused. Samson looked at her with a radiant smile and glistening eyes. “I like to read, Dance, play tennis, and I used to make clothes with my best friend.”
Samson saw Margaret's smile when she mentioned her best friend. He enjoyed it and wanted to see her continue to glow, so he said, "tell me about your best friend," hoping she wouldn't be frustrated that he didn't continue the conversation about school.
Margaret took a deep breath before talking about Veronica. “We would do everything together, from going to movies and buying ice cream on hot days to hanging out at home. Veronica is really special. No one has ever been there for me like she has." Margaret glowed thinking about the good past times.
Samson remained silent, taking everything in. Margaret looked away, recalling the time she had spent with her best friend. They had first met in second grade and became best friends because of their shared love for creativity.
“Every weekend we would go to fabric stores and purchase fabrics, then after school on Sundays, we would spend hours designing and cutting clothes by hand. I was able to teach Roni how to sew, resulting in both of us becoming good enough to post them on social media for other people to buy. We would discuss what each person liked and didn't like. Roni liked to would create a design while I sewed it together. It was so much fun," she recalled with a brighter smile. "Even now when I see some of the outfits we made online, it makes me feel happy."
Suddenly a memory from when they were young popped into Margaret's mind. "We once made these cute little skirts that swung when you walked," She giggled her laughter filled the room along with a tear that rolled down her cheek. Those memories reminded Margaret why she loved her best friend so much and why she wanted to be around her forever.
“May I look at something you made?" Inquired Samson.
"No," Margaret spat, "I mean no because we couldn't create anything for the previous two months and since I live here we really can't because I don't have the income and she's not here."
"I've got an idea, Margaret," Samson said as he moved toward her on the carpet. " I should be capable of buying you the fabric you want." "You don't have to do that, Samson."
"But, I want to Margaret."
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