SF Chapter 52: Samantha Borgens Final
[Samantha and Rusty Borgens commentary]
Samantha was sitting at the table in her father's house.
"Our dad is a writer. He's published some fiction books and won the PEN Faulkner Award twice."
Then she explained, "The Faulkner Award is one of the most important prize for a fiction novelist."
Her brother continued, "We were raised with that influence. Samantha and I have kept journals since we were kids. Now she's on the verge of publishing her first book. I'll publish mine in the future."
"Our dad even pays us so we can focus on writing and not have to work at somewhere like McDonald's."
"About our mother-" Rusty was about to continue, but Samantha cut him off.
"She's a bitch," she said flatly.
"Sis doesn't like her. Our parents divorced two years ago…" he finished.
[Commentary ends]
The trio were still on the rooftop, but only Dani and Samantha were drinking.
"Got your eye on any girls this year?" Sam turned to her brother with the typical provocative question.
He nodded. "Yeah, there's this girl… Kate, in my English class. Every time I see her, I hear that Beatles song, 'I've Just Seen a Face,' playing in my head."
She laughed. "God, you're so pathetic."
"At least I know I'm pathetic." He lit up a joint.
"Let me give you some advice," Sam offered.
"I can't wait to hear your advice. It's always so friggin' awesome."
Daniel chimed in. "If her advice is anywhere near as good as her seduction lines, you better be prepared to receive a slap, dude."
She nudged Dani. "Yet I got you," she shot back.
"Yeah, because I'm easy. Any pretty girl with a nice body has a great chance with me."
"You're a manwhore." Sam rolled her eyes.
"Oh, and where's my payment? Give me back the money I tossed you. I changed my mind - I earned this whiskey," he played along.
She gave his hands a few light slaps.
"You two already look like a couple," Rusty pointed out.
"No!" Samantha denied immediately. "No, no, no."
"You know in math, two negatives turn into a positive?" Dani said rhetorically. "Add one more 'no,' Sam."
"Anyway," Sam went back to the subject of her brother. "There are two kinds of people in this world. Hopeless romantics and realists."
"A realist just sees that face and packs it in with every other pretty girl they've ever seen before."
"The hopeless romantic becomes convinced that God put them on Earth to be with that one person."
She went on, "But there is no God, and life is only as meaningful as you fool yourself into thinking it is." She pointed at Dani, "Guys who get laid a lot are realists."
She finished and turned to Rusty. "You should be listening. Just avoid love at all costs. That's my motto."
"That's fucking depressing, Sam." Her brother replied and looked at her fling. "Do you think the same?"
"Give her a break, she is nineteen. I would be more worried if she were saying this at 30..." Daniel remarked unfazed.
"Excuse me?" she snapped at him.
"I don't believe you know what love is, Sam. I don't know either. But at least my opinion isn't based on trauma - whether it's because you were cheated on or because your parents cheated on each other." He ended up being bluntly honest.
She made an angry face, and her breathing grew heavier.
"Oh, that hit right on the spot..." Rusty watched the two of them.
"What, Sam? You go around babbling some philosophy, startling others, but when someone points right at your wound, you get angry?"
"What do you know, Dani?" She snorted.
"Not much. In the vast world of this universe, pretty much nothing," he calmly responded.
Daniel continued, "That came out a little out of character for me. But as a fellow writer, I thought it was worth saying a few truths, even if they hurt a little."
"Reading a few fancy books with fancy ideas means nothing if you become too afraid to really live." He stared straight into her eyes.
She was left speechless for a moment.
Daniel stood up and poured the rest of the whiskey into his glass. "Well, I guess I just lost my ticket to getting laid again," he joked.
"Sam, just think of me as some asshole..." He noticed the state he had left her in. "Or someone who just stuck a finger in your assho-"
"Dude, I'm still here!" her brother protested, throwing his arms out in mild indignation.
Before he could fully walk away, Samantha called out, "Dani." Seeing that he had stopped and turned back to her, she asked, "What kind of books do you write?"
"There are two kinds of writers in this world," he paraphrased her. "The ones who are praised by critics, and the ones who are embraced by the masses."
"By the way, the ones who manage to achieve both? I don't consider them writers - just lucky bastards," he added, putting on a mock envious face.
"I'm the second kind. I wrote Wimpy Kid and Percy Jackson," he revealed.
The two siblings stared at him in shock.
"Whoa, that's like millions of books sold," Rusty muttered.
"Yeah, 23 million combined," Daniel nodded. "Time flies..." he added, now imitating the wisdom of an old man.
Samantha started laughing. "This is so fucking ironic. My one-night stand guy turns out to be one of the best-selling young writers out there right now..." She then covered her face with her hand.
"Didn't you think about telling me?" Sam then looked back at him.
"Not really..." He shook his head. "I knew you might feel weird about this coincidence."
"You can't blame me - if I had told you, my chances of sleeping with you again would have been drastically reduced." He said it as if that were a perfectly reasonable justification.
"Wow," Rusty made a face of disbelief. "I think I'm getting too stoned... because that actually makes sense." Then he stood up. "I'll leave you two alone."
Daniel ended up staying, and Sam stood up. The duo just stared at each other. No one knows who started it, but a second later they were kissing intensely.
"We do it one more time," she said after pulling away from the kiss. "Then you leave, and we don't see each other ever again." She proposed it like a deal.
"Fine!" he agreed immediately. "But one time is too little," he whispered. "And I want oral too."
"Are you sure? You know I bite," she teased back.
"I'll take the risk," he smirked, pulling her toward her bedroom.
The two writers had an intense night together. Only the future will tell if it was truly the last.
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