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Shameful




  SHAMEFUL

  a short prequel to Shameless

  by

  Rebecca J. Clark

  SHAMEFUL

  by Rebecca J. Clark

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Shameful

  Prequel to Shameless

  Smashwords Edition

  COPYRIGHT © 2013 Rebecca J. Clark

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: RebeccaJClark.author@gmail.com

  Cover Art by Rebecca J. Clark and Rachel Conner

  Copy Edited by Jennifer Gracen

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To some of my partners in crime when I was 18 years old: Joan, Bonnie, Martha, Becky and Drea. We did a lot of crazy & stupid things, but thank God we never did anything TOO crazy & stupid.

  SHAMEFUL

  January—20 years ago

  Sammy Jo Rossi paused at the hedge and prayed her parents weren’t looking out their bedroom window right now. She took off across the yard and sprinted to the end of the street where her best friend’s car was parked. Thank God they were on time, because if Bonnie and Michelle weren’t here yet, she’d have chickened out and gone back home.

  She slid into the backseat of the Nissan and slammed the door with shaking hands. She did it. Oh my God, she actually did it.

  “Yes!” Bonnie turned around and high fived her so hard it stung. “I can’t believe you actually came.”

  “We thought for sure you’d changed your mind,” added Michelle from the passenger seat.

  Sammy Jo pressed a fist over her racing heart, then fastened the seat belt across her leather jacket. “I almost did.” She laughed, giddy yet anxious over sneaking out of her house.

  Michelle grinned. “Your parents will kill you, you know.”

  They made a U-turn and headed down the street lined with two-story houses similar in size and style to each other.

  “Oh, God. I know.” Sammy Jo peered back at the disappearing neighborhood where she’d lived her whole quiet, totally boring life. Her stomach clenched like she’d been punched. Oh man, if her parents had any idea… “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

  Bonnie’s long blond ponytail swung as she turned and punched Michelle in the arm. “Bitch! Why’d you say that? We had to talk her into this, remember, and you’re not helping.”

  Sammy Jo shrugged. “No. It’s okay.” You’re such a liar. “They won’t find out. Besides, I’m eighteen. I can do what I want.”

  “Right,” Michelle said with a laugh, rubbing where Bonnie hit her. “Yeah, but you’re still under their roof. You won’t be able to do what you want until after you move out, which is why these drastic measures are necessary.”

  Drastic was right. She’d never done anything like this before. She ran her fingers through her hair, letting it fall across her shoulders. “So, they’re a little over-protective.” And they would totally kill her if they knew where she was going. That’s what she got for being the baby of the family. Lucky her.

  “A little?” her friends asked in unison.

  “You’d have more freedom at the prison in Monroe,” Michelle added. “Remember that time when you were late getting home from school and your mom called the cops and—”

  Sammy Jo held her hands up. “Okay, that was weird, but they’re not always that bad.” Even though they kinda were. “But it doesn’t matter— they won’t find out. They were fighting tonight, which means Dad will get drunk and pass out and Mom will take a sleeping pill. I’m good.”

  Michelle shook her head. “They’ll still find out, Sam. I swear they have a microchip planted on you or something.”

  “You’ll be grounded ‘til you’re thirty,” Bonnie said with a giggle, meeting Sammy Jo’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “So we’re proud of you for coming with us, bitch.”

  Once they were clear of street lights and traffic, Bonnie reached back and handed her a beer.

  Sammy Jo hesitated to take it. “We can’t drink and drive.” Plus, she hated the taste of beer.

  Her friends exchanged glances then laughed at her. “You’re not driving, and we’re not getting drunk, Little Miss Perfect,” Bonnie chided. “Just getting a nice buzz before the party.” She flipped through the radio stations until a good song came on.

  Her friends chugged their beer. While Duran Duran sang about their ordinary world, Sammy Jo stared at the can in her hand. It wasn’t very cold, as if it had been out of the fridge a while, which it probably had. Why was she always such a wuss? She popped the top, tasted and grimaced. Yuck. Way grosser than she remembered.

  Bonnie laughed at her. “Just pound it, Sam.”

  “You guys really like this stuff?”

  “Oh, hell no. Beer’s disgusting. But the buzz is awesome.” Bonnie gulped down the rest of her can, crumpled it in her fist, and tossed it on the floor of the car. “Pound it, Sam,” she said again. Then in unison, she and Michelle chanted, “Sam! Sam! Sam! Sam!”

  To shut them up, Sammy Jo plugged her nose and swallowed half the can. It burned her stomach like acid and left the most disgusting aftertaste in her mouth. “I’m gonna barf.” She hoped she had Tic Tacs in her purse. She didn’t want to have gnarly beer breath if she met any cute guys tonight.

  “You’d better not. My dad will kill me if you puke in my car. He just cleaned it.”

  Yeah, and my dad will kill me if he knows I’m not home in bed.

  “You’ll be fine,” Michelle said to Sammy Jo. “Just take some deep breaths.”

  “If I breathe, I’ll barf.”

  Her friends laughed. “She’s such a lightweight,” Michelle said.

  Bonnie nodded and rolled her eyes. “We really need to get her out more.”

  “Yeah, she’s so naive.”

  “Hel-lo, I’m sitting right here.”

  Her friends giggled. She hated when they teased her like this, but they were right. She was naive. Her parents had given her a pretty sheltered, aka boring, life.

  With a deep breath of courage, she chugged the rest of the beer. “This party better be worth it.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Sammy Jo asked they drove down a dark road far from the lights of the city. Tall fir trees blocked the moon and any stars that might be out on this cold January night.

  “They said to look for a beer can on a stick.” Bonnie slowed the car to just above a crawl. “Maybe those cars up there are going to the party. They’re going pretty slow.”

  The furthest car ahead slammed on its brake lights and turned right. The ones behind it followed. Sammy Jo saw why. She reached over the front seat and pointed across Michelle’s chest. “See the can?”

  Bonnie turned the car onto a dirt road, the headlights reflecting off an Olympia Beer can, slightly crumpled, skewered atop a long stick. “Beer on a stick. We could get rich with that idea.” They all giggled.

  The road grew even darker, the firs and leafless branches stretching into the beams of the headlights, like grasping and desperate arms. The cars they’d followed in had disappeared up ahead. “This is kind of creepy out here,” Sammy Jo said, and hugged herself. “You guys sure you want to go to this party?”

  Bonnie met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Hell yeah. There’s supposed to be a bunch of college guys here.” She and Michelle squealed their excitement.

 
; Butterflies rumbled around Sammy Jo’s belly as the road finally opened up into some sort of field or meadow. Bonnie’d said the party was at a deserted airstrip. This looked about right.

  Flames and orange light from a giant bonfire in the distance reached above the cars parked haphazardly in the grass. Firelight danced over the tops of the vehicles, shining and reflecting off metal and glass.

  Bonnie killed the engine, then they took turns checking out their hair and makeup in the rearview mirror. Sammy Jo reapplied pink lip gloss and rubbed her fingers across her teeth. She smoothed her dark hair. One of the cute football players had once told her she looked best with her hair long and loose like this. Would she meet someone tonight? Excitement and nerves rippled across her skin. She hoped so. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since her sophomore year. And that hadn’t really counted because her parents wouldn’t let her go out on a date until she was eighteen. Well, she was eighteen now. Having a boyfriend her senior year would be so cool. Especially if it was a college guy.

  Bonnie handed them each another can of beer.

  “No way. Gross,” Sammy Jo said, shaking her head and pushing it away.

  “Once you’re buzzed, it’ll taste better. I promise,” Michelle said, pushing the can back toward her.

  “You’re being a wuss again, Sam,” Bonnie chided, giving her “that look.”

  Sammy Jo pressed her lips together, annoyed, but her friend was right. She was tired of being a wuss. She was tired of missing out on the fun because she always played by the rules. Besides, it was her senior year, and going to one of these parties was practically a requirement. Would it really hurt anything to let loose for a change?

  With a nod of determination, she guzzled her can in one long drink. Then she burped. And giggled. “Come on girls, let’s get this party started.”

  * * *

  The car-sized pile of flames devoured old furniture, branches, lumber, and whatever else people had brought. The fire spit and leapt into the air, white ashes floating upward and disappearing into the black sky.

  Despite the bitter cold, the front side of Sammy Jo’s body burned from the heat of the bonfire, and sweat beaded on her upper lip. A plume of acrid smoke blew toward her and filled her lungs. She waved her hand in front of her face and moved a few steps away from the heat.

  But it wasn’t just the fire making her hot. Her friends had ditched her. Before they’d even made it out of the parking area, Bonnie had hit on a guy and disappeared with him. And Michelle just ran into her ex. They’d gone off somewhere. To talk. Yeah, right.

  So she was by herself. And knew no one.

  She didn’t want anyone to think she was here by herself. How lame would that be? So she checked her watch a couple of times, and craned her neck to look around as if she was expecting someone to join her any time now.

  It was during one of these moments that she sensed someone watching her. She peered over the rim of her red plastic cup and through the flames to see a guy staring at her from the other side. Glaring was more like it. He was young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Stringy blond hair hung across his forehead, partially shielding his intense gaze.

  Uncomfortable, Sammy Jo averted her eyes and sipped her lukewarm beer, to give her something to do. She tried to appear nonchalant as she glanced around the crowd, hoping to find someone she recognized. She saw a few people from her school, but nobody she knew well enough to approach. Most of the kids here seemed older, college-aged. Dammit. Why did her friends ditch her? They knew she wasn’t comfortable at parties. Make that a double dammit.

  After a few minutes of purposefully not looking through the flames, she brushed the bangs off her face and peeked through her fingers. Shit. That guy was still watching her. He reminded her of a stray dog that showed up in her neighborhood last summer. Every time she went outside, it was there. Watching her. Looking like it wanted to eat her for dinner. She’d tried to feed it once, but he had bared his teeth and growled at her, even though she was just trying to be nice to it. When it bit a neighbor kid, one of the dads caught it and took it into the woods somewhere. All the kids assumed he shot it or dumped it. She always felt bad about that. She figured the dog had a reason for being vicious.

  Goosebumps rose on Sammy Jo’s skin, despite the flames in front of her. That could be the case with this guy, too, but why was he glaring at her like that?

  He looked angry, which made no sense. She didn’t know him and he didn’t know her, so he had no reason to be mad at her. But if looks could kill... he was kind of freaking her out.

  Where were her friends?

  She backed away from the fire, until she couldn’t see him anymore. Bonnie hailed her down. Thank God.

  “Come with me to pee. There’s an outhouse over there.” Bonnie grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd, over broken pavement littered with shards of broken glass, to a long line in front of a single outhouse. Sammy Jo crossed her arms around herself, wishing she’d thought to bring gloves. As they waited their turn in line, Bonnie asked, “Having fun?”

  Sammy Jo shrugged. She wanted to say “no” and whine about them ditching her, but that would be lame. And she was tired of being lame. “Yeah, except for the dude stalking me.”

  “Seriously?”

  Sammy Jo filled her in.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. He probably just thinks you’re hot.” They reached the front of the line. “Oh! It’s my turn.”

  A few minutes later, they headed back toward the bonfire. The giant flames colored the sky amber. “Well, see you later, Sammy Jo. Meet up at the car at one?”

  “Wait. What? You’re leaving me, I mean, you’re not gonna hang out?” She’d risked being grounded for life for this? Getting ditched by her friends and standing around a bonfire by herself? Maybe coming here was a mistake.

  “Gotta get back to my man.” Bonnie motioned to the crowd in front of the kegs. “See him over there? He’s waiting for me.”

  Sammy Jo glanced to where her friend was pointing. She didn’t remember what her “man” looked like.

  Bonnie kissed her on the cheek then jogged toward the kegs, stopping in front of a short but buff guy in black jacket and jeans. He hooked his hand around her neck and pulled her in for a long, showy kiss. Sammy Jo sighed. They looked like a long-term couple with their hands all over each other, even though they’d just met.

  She wouldn’t mind meeting a guy she wanted to hang all over like that. Eventually. But she would never do that without getting to know him better. She and Bonnie were different that way.

  When the guy put his hand up Bonnie’s shirt, Sammy Jo turned away. And met the angry eyes of that dude again. She jerked to a stop, sloshing warm beer over her hand and jacket sleeve. Was he following her?

  She spun around, deciding she was going to hang out with Bonnie whether her friend liked it or not, and slammed into something hard.

  Two large hands cupped her shoulders, preventing her from falling forward. “Whoa there, tiger,” said a deep male voice.

  Sammy Jo looked up and found herself staring into the most beautiful male face she’d ever seen. He was a good head taller than her. His curly dark hair sparkled orange and red from the fire.

  Her stomach lurched and she blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

  He lifted his hands from her shoulders, raising them between them, palms toward her in a surrender position. “Hey, I didn’t mean to freak you out. You ran into me.”

  She sucked in a calming breath. “Yeah, sorry about that. You, um, didn’t freak me out. I was just already a bit, um, freaked out cuz there’s a guy over there who’s been watching me and making me uncomfortable.” And there he was, about ten yards away, glaring at her. At them.

  Mr. Gorgeous followed the direction of her gaze. “The dude in the blue jacket?” At her nod, he said, “That’s Johnny. I’d stay away from him, if I were you.” He turned back to her and grinned, his white teeth flashing.

  For a moment she forgot all about that othe
r guy. She was stunned by the strength of her attraction to this one. He was exactly the kind of guy she’d hoped to meet tonight. Older. Super hot. So not like the guys at her school. Butterflies break-danced inside her. She stuttered, “I-I’ve been t-trying to.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s weird how he’s been staring at me. Like he knows me, or something.”

  “The guy’s a total fuck up. Why don’t you hang out with me for a while? Then maybe he’ll get the message that you’re not interested.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Morris.”

  Her hand disappeared into his large grip and for a moment she couldn’t remember her name. She cleared her throat. “Um, Sammy Jo.”

  “Sammy Jo,” he repeated, nodding his head. “It fits you.”

  “Thanks. I think,” she said, giggling.

  He laughed too. “Oh, trust me. It’s a compliment.”

  Morris was right— once she started hanging out with him, Angry Johnny had backed off. She still caught him watching her, but it didn’t feel as threatening. Probably because Morris was with her and he made her feel safe. He was a few years older than her— he was twenty-two and studying engineering at the University of Washington. How freakin’ awesome was it that he was in college? Maybe this night wasn’t a bust after all.

  As they stood in line for another beer, he draped his arm around her, pulling her close to his hard body. Her insides churned and flitted with excitement and nerves. Did he put his arm around her to let Johnny know she was with him, or because he liked her?

  Oh, my, God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! She couldn’t believe a guy like Morris was hanging out with her, might be interested in her. He was gorgeous, funny, obviously smart if he was in engineering school, and did she mention he was gorgeous? Her heart felt like it could explode in her chest.

  At the front of the keg line, they ran into Michelle. Michelle took one look at Morris — a long, appraising look from head to toe and lingering in between — and promptly pulled Sammy Jo aside, squealing, “Oh, my God, Sam! He looks just like Dr. Ross in ER. He’s so hot. You’re so lucky.”