Samantha Rachel Artinya Novels & Stories

It was the voice coupled with the designer suit that made me remember her. "You're Rachel. Of course I remember you. You would always let Robbie and me stop at the ice cream shop on our way home after sailing lessons. And you are one of the few people that always insisted on calling me Samantha instead of just Sam." I gave her a warm grin and sat up taller in the bed. Rachel sat down carefully in the chair that Grace had vacated only an hour before. "I'm glad you remember me. I need to talk to you about Robbie, and I'll need you to sign some paperwork," she said, pulling a folder out of an oversized purse.

Kyra finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. The girl turned to look at her even as she kept walking and her eyes sparkled with warmth as she smiled. “I’m Samantha,” she replied. “I am one of the misfits here.” Kyra pulled her brows. “Why do you all keep saying that?” she asked. “Oh, Jayde must have told you already,” Samantha said with another smile. “Jade?” Kyra repeated the name. So that was his name, she thought. Samantha tilted her head and corrected, “The pronunciation is J-a-y-d-e, not Jade.”

Ang tutoo, may kahalong admirasyon ang unang reaksiyon niya. Nakita niya ang tunay na pangalan at kasarian ni 'Samuel' sa ID driver's license nito. Samantha Cruz. Female. At napagtanto niyang ang palayaw na 'Sam' ay tutoo ngunit mas malambot ang pagkakabigkas, as in 'Samantha'. It was a chic French nickname. What a gutsy female! bulalas niya sa sarili. Hindi pa bumabalik si Samantha. Kaya ang mga kapatid na lang nito ang nagpakilala ng mga sarili sa kanya.

"Who's your mother?" "Jessi D'art – her artist name," Samantha replied, a proud smile lighting her face. Darcel's jaw dropped, astonishment written across her face. "The legendary Jessi D'art? My role model?" Samantha blinked. "Huh?" "Jessi D'art, like Jessica," she said and Samantha nodded graciously. "I love her. I've been her biggest fan for years!" Darcel's voice barely rose above a whisper. "I've always yearned to meet her. Her brushstrokes ignite my imagination."

Samantha is thrilled to see her friend doing better, and she's proud of how far Rachel has come. As Rachel’s depression improves, she becomes more like her old self. She's back to being the life of the party, and she's full of energy and enthusiasm. Samantha is relieved and happy to see Rachel thriving, but she can't help but feel a bit jealous. It's not that she wants Rachel to be unhappy again, but she misses the quiet nights they used to have together. She's afraid that their friendship will change now that Rachel is back to her old self.

By this way, she could help her pack and other smaller packs, as well. "Well?" Cilia said with a smile. The woman scoffed and shook her head. "You aren't going to leave if I didn't say my name, are you?" The woman said with a dark look in their direction, and Amelia and Cilia nodded their head in sync. The woman gave them a frown before she shrugged. "I am Samantha." "Hi, Samantha. See, is this hard? No, right?" Amelia said and Samantha scoffed. "Wait right here, someone will come and pick you two up. I have to train others." Samantha said as she glared at nothing in particular. "I am already late."

“I guess you are here to meet my super talented brother-in-law? I just didn’t expect you to come personally!” “Oh, that’s it!” Samantha jumped in. “I knew it! I knew that project was worth so much!”. She turned to me, her eyes questioning, “Ryan, are you sure?” She asked sadly and I nodded firmly. “Ryan?” Rachel repeated, sounding shocked as Samantha eagerly pulled her further into the house. “Oh, sorry! I forgot to introduce myself,” I said, keeping the smile on my face. “I am Ryan Rivers, and this is Samantha Lithel. We are so happy to have you here, Sam and I admire you so much.”

“I was like an antique jar, trying to fit in to the line of a high-class and modern jars. Only few appreciates me.” “Don't say that!” Rachel frowned at me. I can feel her irritation because of what I said. She cupped my face. “Listen, Samantha. If you are an antique jar, those few who appreciates you are the people who can see the beauty within you. You're indeed like an antique jar, you are strong. You withstand the storm. You are beautiful. Don't ever down yourself like that. You are Samantha Miller. You are elegant and strong. Even the evil Dylan failed to bring you down. Always remember that.”

“And this is—” “You don’t need to introduce her,” Savannah interrupts. “This is Samantha Webber, aka Sam, from Ohio. Dual major in Art and Digital Media, mostly focused on painting. Second-semester sophomore at this fine institution. And before the world fell apart, she had an internship at the Met—restoration department.” She strides over and extends her hand. “Pleasure to meet such a bright young talent. I’m Savannah Carmichael.” I’m a little dazzled by how much she knows about me. I dumbly shake her hand and take the dollop of hand sanitizer she offers. “The pleasure’s all mine,” I mumble.

The bungalow door swung open again and this time, Carol turned to see an equally old friend step outside. With her long dark hair and eyes, her brown skin glowing in the sun, Samantha Drake stopped at the porch, her eyes immediately landing on the woman standing next to her husband. Before she had married Damon, she had been known as Samantha Rachel, and everyone had identified her with her surname. Even Damon still called her Rachel. "Carol?" They locked their arms around each other in a tight friendly hug. "You're just in time for lunch," Rachel was saying, "I hope you like mac and cheese."