65. Stay Stay Stay (9/24/20)

"Go away!" I screamed, chucking my phone across the room, narrowly missing my boyfriend, Sammy.

Tears stung my eyes, but Sammy didn't seem affected by my moodiness, tears, or the aforementioned phone chucking. Instead, he dodged the phone, blinked a few times at me, and said, "Damn, girl!"

I tried to keep my anger levels high, since I was, after all, very upset with him. My brows were furrowed and my arms were crossed against my chest as I watched Sammy pick up my phone and examine it.

"How did you not break this thing?" He asked me, his voice serious. "Did you get one of those Otterbox cases or something?"

I held back a chuckle as I stared at Sammy, waiting for some sort of apology. But instead, he handed back my phone and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

What kind of reaction was that? He'll "see me tomorrow?" I just fucking threw my phone at him, and all he had to say in response was a few jokes and a goodbye?

As he grabbed his coat, I checked my phone for any damage and found that Sammy had been right. The phone would have broken through the drywall, but it didn't. It must've been the Otterbox case.

The next morning, I texted Sammy after a long, hard night of thinking. I hadn't really explained to Sammy why I was upset with him, so did he know I was looking for an apology? I figured there was a lack of communication on both my part and his, so I texted him, saying I wanted to resolve our fight from yesterday. All he sent back was a smiley face.

At quarter to nine, when he was supposed to pick me up, I heard a knock at my apartment door. I was peckish and was looking forward to our weekly breakfast dates where I ordered an everything bagel, and Sammy chose a blueberry muffin.

Sammy opened the door, and when I walked down the hallway of my apartment and looked up to see him, I almost burst into giggles. He had come equipped with his old football helmet from high school, figuring I would throw my phone again.

"What did you wanna talk about?" Sammy asked, his voice muffled under the helmet. He placed his hands on his hips, full diva.

"Oh my god." I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from laughing. "You look ridiculous."

"Wanted to bring protection this time," he explained. "Now, what do you want?"

I searched my brain for the reasoning behind our argument yesterday, but I came up dry. And in this moment, looking over at Sammy in that stupid football helmet, all my anger dissipated. I snickered, walking across the room before wrapping him in a hug.

"I can't even remember," I whispered. Due to our height difference, my head was right under his chin.

Sammy removed the football helmet, safe now that I wasn't so angry and flinging phones like a mad woman.

"You're so funny when you're mad," he said, messing up my hair with the palm of his hand.

I squealed before saying, "I love you."

"I guess I love you too." His voice was dripping in humor, so I laughed before pecking him on the cheek.

When I let him go, we left the apartment and made our way to the restaurant we usually ate breakfast at. Sammy drove, throwing the football helmet in the backseat before starting the car.

I sat in the passenger seat, studying my nails and thinking everything over. Sammy was my first real boyfriend out of college. Every guy I saw before him was kind of a douchebag. Self-centered and arrogant, they never listened or cared about me. I was supposed to be at their beck-and-call, always ready to solve whatever problem they came across.

This string of guys ended after I graduated college and met Sammy. Sammy had been much too goofy for my taste at first, but then his jokes became charming, and I couldn't get enough of him. Sure, we had an argument here and there, but Sammy was surprisingly mature about it.

Then, I remembered why I was angry with him last night. He hadn't told me that his parents were hosting a picnic this weekend. Looking back now, I couldn't understand why it was such a big deal last night. My anger apparently warranted throwing a phone at Sammy, but now, it hardly seemed important. Sammy probably thought his parents were too embarrassing.

"Claire, what's wrong?" Sammy asked when we had stopped at a red light.

I smiled up at him and said, "Nothing."