"Samantha."

He reached out, grabbing her arm in a mix of frustration and desperation.

"Cut it out, will you? You're not exactly playing it straight with others either, and I haven't made a fuss, have I? We're both in the same boat here."

His words sent a ripple of astonishment through the crowd.

And as if struck by a sudden revelation, Jessica's eyes gleamed with an opportunity.

"What? Sam's got a secret admirer? No wonder Chris has been all moody lately. Sam, that's on you then. At least Chris and I are clear-cut, no funny business."

Samantha's brows knitted in annoyance, turning to face Chris squarely.

"My secret admirer, who might that be?"

"Like you don't know," he retorted, clearly hinting at Abner again.

She couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity.

"Don't project your own sleaziness onto everyone else, Chris. If we're done, let's end it cleanly. If you go crying to my dad again, it's just going to make things ugly. It's beneath you. I'm not stopping you from seeing Jessica, so stay out of my life." Did he really think she was without temper?

She flung the lounge door open and stormed out.

Chris, now sweating profusely, was more anxious than ever.

"Samantha!"

But Samantha didn't give him the time of day.

Back inside, Jessica's sobbing grew louder.

Chris's steps halted as he turned to apologize.

"Sorry, Jess. Samantha's just not in the best mood tonight. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

Jessica dabbed at her tears. "It's okay, Chris. Maybe you should check on her."

Had she not said that, Chris might have chased after Samantha.

But now, feeling somewhat exposed, he felt embarrassed, especially since Samantha's parting words had been so severe.

Chasing after her now would just make him seem desperate.

He was popular enough at school; he wouldn't be short of girlfriends. Samantha would regret this eventually.

He slumped down, drowning his confusion in three stiff drinks, the kind that hits you hard and fast.

"No chasing. If it's over, it's over. She thinks I can't live without her?"

Jessica's lips curled up, sitting beside him.

"Don't let me be the reason for your heartache."

"Jess, this has nothing to do with you."

Men have their pride, and Samantha had publicly humiliated him.

Regret tinged his thoughts; he shouldn't have sung with Jessica, but it was hard to say no with everyone egging him on. Now, slightly drunk, he indulged in a few more glasses than he should have. Samantha's sudden departure had cast a pall over the evening, and the party quickly dispersed.

Jessica, seizing her moment and seeing Chris drunk, decided to stay.

"Chris, let me help you upstairs to rest."

Chris's family owned the lounge, a detail that made the offer seem all the more appealing.

As they passed the restroom, Jessica couldn't hold back any longer and kissed him.

Chris sobered up instantly. His relationship with Jessica had always been ambiguous, but his heart belonged to Samantha.

He wasn't a fool. Jessica was easy, but Samantha was someone he'd pursued for a long time.

Pushing Jessica away, he wiped his lips.

Jessica stumbled, embarrassment written all over her face.

"Chris, I'm so sorry. Did I overstep? I'm just... a bit drunk."

She knew confessing now would lead to rejection, but claiming drunkenness might save face with Chris, who wouldn't want to embarrass a girl further.

Chris frowned but didn't pursue the matter.

"Go home. I need some time alone."

Jessica's face fell, her fists clenching in frustration behind her back.

She had hoped to seal the deal with Chris tonight, but it seemed he was only interested in flirting, not committing.

Fuming, she cursed Samantha under her breath.

Meanwhile, Samantha, having left the lounge, found herself at a convenience store downstairs, drowning her sorrows in alcohol.

Reflecting on her years with Chris, her heart soured with regret.

It was past midnight, and she hadn't gone home.

Her phone rang, and she braced herself, expecting a call from Mr. Davis, no doubt a lecture following Chris's complaint.

Without thinking, she answered on speaker, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"Dad, how many times do I have to say it? Stop meddling in my business with Abner! I've made up my mind!"

Her words hung in the air, only to be met with a gentle, cautious voice on the other end.

"Samantha, it's me."

In that moment, Samantha's head cleared, as if she'd been struck sober.

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