Archive of Our Own

Small, sparkling specks. That’s what she remembers most about being a kid — the myriad of stars staring back at her as they emerged from the pitch black night sky.

Her dad used to take her up on the roof of their house back then, years ago, and they’d lie there together, looking up and trying to find patterns out of the porcelain dots. He said the streetlights didn’t cloud them from this high up, and he was right. There was no smoggy yellow to be found — just an expanse of luminous obsidian overhead.

It brought her so much comfort, she remembers, and sometimes she wonders why they stopped. She tries to think back to the last time they were up there together, but comes up short. She thinks about how odd it is to reflect on the past — to think about doing things for the last time with someone without knowing.

But it’s unavoidable. The reality is that one day, years ago, her dad trailed behind her on the ladder, hoisting her up onto the roof for a night of star gazing, only to never do it again. Maybe work got busy, or bills started piling up. Maybe it got to be too tiring to wrangle two kids. She doesn’t know the cause for sure. All she knows is that one day, he reached for a beer can instead.

And it’s incredibly embarrassing, she thinks, having to walk her friends, Kate and Sam, through their cluttered home. She swears she just cleaned these empty cans up a few hours ago, and yet, four of them litter the living room table. The girls assure her that it’s fine — that they didn’t even notice, and Deena believes them. Even so, she feels heat rise to her cheeks as they pass his recliner. It’s empty, she knows that, but it’s uncomfortable all the same.

When they get to her room upstairs, she realizes she’s lost Sam somewhere along the way. Kate senses her question before she can even ask it, and she tells her Sam slipped into Josh’s room after hearing the sounds of video games fill the hallway. Deena rolls her eyes, and Kate does the same, and they call the two of them a couple of dorks before they open her door and settle next to each other on the bed.

Kate pulls out her homework, the same one Deena’s avoiding, and Deena calls her a dork, too, for revising an essay during a sleepover.

Kate calls her a dork for calling it a sleepover.

The two of them occupy each other with light conversation, mostly about their day. It’s easy between them, and it always has been. Somehow, they just fit together.

Deena asks her about cheer now that it’s January, and their high school football season is over, and Kate tells her basketball is next. With a small shake of the head, she reminds her that she’s in the school band, and she should know that.

Deena just smiles. “Why waste my time learning things when I have you around to remind me of them?”

“She has a point.”

Their attention is brought to Sam, who closes the bedroom door behind her.

“No, she doesn’t. You just agree with whatever she says.”

Sam laughs, not denying it, and mindlessly thumbs her way across Deena’s desk, inspecting the items atop it for a brief moment at a time. Among the clutter are cassette tapes and scattered pages of abandoned schoolwork, a blue scrunchie she’s pretty sure is Kate’s, a lighter, and a magic 8 ball.

Deena’s voice rings from behind her. “I thought you were ditching us for my brother.”

“I should. He’s much more fun,” she teases. “Picked the wrong Johnson to be friends with.”

“Yeah, well, too bad you’re stuck with me.”

Sam picks up some black nail polish and climbs on the girl’s bed, crossing her legs as she faces her. She takes her left hand and starts painting her nails without asking, and Deena lets her.

“We were surprised you could come tonight,” Kate says, eyes focused on the notepad in front of her as she scribbles out something. “You’ve been so busy with your boyfriend lately. Either that, or you’re avoiding us.”

Deena tries not to make a face as the topic of Chris is brought up, but Sam is wholly unaffected, eyes trained on making sure the polish is applied neatly. She learned long ago not to take too much offense to anything Kate said, because she never really meant to be spiteful or malicious. She was just bold — unafraid to say or do things most people wouldn’t. In fact, over time, she’d developed a keen appreciation for it.

“There’s only been one time that I couldn’t make it,” she corrects her. “I was meeting his parents.”

“His parents?” Deena raises her eyebrows. “Wow. So, you guys are, like, serious now?”

Sam shrugs in response, and Kate lifts her eyes up from her page to give Deena a sympathetic look. She knew just how hard things like this hit her, and she immediately regrets bringing him up.

“I have to pee,” she says suddenly, and she sets her pen and paper down. Deena knows she’s lying — knows she’s just trying to give her an opportunity to be alone with Sam to finally tell her how she feels, but she can’t. She’s conflicted about it, because she appreciates so much that Kate cares, but she almost feels like she disappoints her, too, and that makes it all the worse.

Once the sound of the door closing clicks, Deena prods on. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” she answers. “Kind of boring, honestly.”

She nods, not doubting that. When Sam had told her she’d started dating the boy, it definitely surprised her. Out of all the boys in their grade that she tried to prepare herself for the possibility of Sam dating, he was never on her list. But the universe had it out for her, she was convinced, and so, of course Sam would end up dating the most popular guy in school. “So, you really like him, then?”

She grins at the question, and the tone with which it’s asked. “Don’t be judgmental.”

Deena holds her free hand up in defense. “I simply asked a question.”

“But the way you said it —”

“Alright, alright,” she relents, “answer the question, Fraser.”

Sam laughs lightly, and Deena smiles at the sound of it. It’s warm, like her. “He’s a popular choice, you know. A lot of girls like him.”

“Okay,” Deena says, looking down at her nails, “but what do you like about him?”

She dips the end of the applicator into the black polish before bringing her hand closer. “Why are you so interested?”

Deena shrugs. “I just thought you’d have a different type.”

“Oh, yeah? Like who?”

“Any guy with a personality. But, I guess not,” she says, jokingly. "Sam Fraser’s as shallow as it comes, apparently. All it takes to win her over is a car and good looks.”

Sam smiles as she paints the nail of her ring finger. “That’s all anyone needs to get a girlfriend.”

“Oh really?” Deena hums. “Well, I have a car, but no girlfriend. You saying I’m not hot?”

“No,” she replies. “You don’t have a girlfriend because you don’t talk to anyone other than Kate and Simon.”

“Ah, so you need a car, good looks, and a good personality. Damn, competition is tough these days.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. Two out of three. I’d say that’s pretty good odds.”

“So you do think I’m hot,” she teases.

Deena doesn’t think much of it. Just harmless flirting, like usual. But when Sam’s hand stills, and she meets their eyes, Deena’s transfixed by the expression on her face. “Yeah,” she says. “I do.”

And she’s sure she doesn’t have to confess anything to Sam about her feelings now, because she knows she’s wearing them on her face. She’s almost embarrassed by it — almost — but she’s not, because Sam’s looking back at her in a way only she knows how to.

It’s a rarity, one that Deena spends hours reanalyzing once it’s over. Her eyes seem to study her, and she gets this slight smile on her face that’s barely noticeable, and Deena swears she knows exactly what she’s doing. Because this look — it quiets everything between them. The air stills around them. It’s just them, together, and it creates this atmosphere that keeps Deena reeled in. She waits for these moments — craves them. And she thinks Sam does, too.

“You’ve never asked me out before,” she says, softly. “Why not?”

“Sam,” she warns, smiling at the recklessness of the question. “Come on.”

Blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “Just curious.”

She takes a deep breath, feigning solemnity. “Well, I’d say it’s because you have a boyfriend, but the truth is … it’s because you only have one out of three: good looks, but no car and no personality.”

Sam gives a genuine laugh, and a sunny grin spans her face that makes Deena’s heart skip a beat. “At least you’re honest.”

“Honest, you say? Sounds like the trait of a good personality. Maybe I’m a triple-threat after all.”

“You are,” she confirms, her tone amused yet sincere, and she brushes her thumb over her hand affectionately. “Now, quit distracting me. I’m trying to focus here.”

And their moment is gone almost as soon as it came. Sometimes, she wonders if she’s imagining it or going insane, because during times like that, she can almost swear Sam’s as lovestruck as she is.

But Sam has a boyfriend, she keeps reminding herself, and maybe it’s all playful to her. It’d be almost cruel, she thinks, if Sam were being serious — to lead her on like that and get her hopes up, knowingly so. And Sam just isn’t cruel.

They go back to light topics as Sam switches hands, and they poke fun at one another and laugh so hard their stomachs ache. Deena thinks she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

When Kate reappears, Deena’s nails are practically dry. Sam looks between the two girls for a brief second. “That was one long pee break.”

“I was scoping out the place. You know, Deena, this house is perfect for a —”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You want to throw a party here. No."

“I think it’d be fun,” Sam says.

“Maybe we should throw it at your house then,” Deena says.

Sam looks back to Kate. “No party.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Deena says to herself, gripping the wheel of her car after parking it on her street, her driveway too packed. “I’m actually, seriously going to kill her.”

A heavy fist hammers into her window, and she jumps at the sound. A shirtless boy yells something at her, but it’s muffled through the glass. She rolls her window down a bit, asking him to repeat it.

“You’re driving me home, right? Hey! You’re driving me home?” He sways into the side of her car. “Hey, unlock the door.” His hands pull at her handles as he wobbles for balance, and Deena rolls her eyes.

She turns off her car and reaches for its handle, ramming her shoulder into the door with a force driven by her irateness. The boy flies back onto the grass, and he groans in pain as she gets out and slams it shut.

She marches toward her house, trying her best to ignore the girl throwing up in her yard as she passes her, and shoves her way through the sea of people surrounding the front door.

The first person she sees is her younger brother, who flies toward her from the stairwell, as if he’d been waiting for her. “Deena, what the hell?” His voice barely carries over the music, but she can tell he’s yelling. “Why did you invite all of these people here?”

“I didn’t —”

“Well, someone did. And it wasn’t me, so that only leaves you.” He interrupts. “Look at our house!”

A crash strikes through the room, and she cringes at the thought of what it could be. Her eyes rapidly scan the crowd, and when she lays eyes on her, she shouts her name, earning the attention of several people. Her gaze looks deadly, and she approaches her with great contempt.

“Deena,” she greets her, a hand reaching around to rub at the back of her neck anxiously. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

“To my own house?”

“Kate?” Josh blinks. “You invited all of these people here?”

She inhales a deep breath, trying not to blow up at her. “Kate, I swear to God, I’m going to —”

“Deena, relax,” she takes her hands and pulls her close, making steady eye contact. "Look, everything’s under control. Just try to have a little fun.”

“Yeah, Deena, lighten up,” Josh says.

Her fiery gaze turns to him, and he shrinks. He doesn’t waste another second before he leaves her side, fearful of what she’d do if he’d stayed.

She snatches her hands out of Kate’s grip. “I can’t believe you. I told you not to do this.”

“Here,” she says, taking a drink out of a passing person’s hands. She sends him a threatening look when it looks like he’s going to protest, and he walks off. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

She looks at her for a few more seconds in disbelief before she says ‘fuck it’ and takes the cup from her, downing it. Kate cheers, hugging her and jumping up and down in excitement. 

“I hate you,” Deena says, unable to fight off the smile on her face. “You’re actually crazy, you know that?”

She just shrugs, grinning, and Deena shakes her head in incredulity. She lets Kate lead her to the kitchen and talk her into taking a few shots. She thinks she’ll need it to get through the night anyway.

Kate waves off to her side and Deena follows its direction, her eyes landing on Sam and Chris. He gives a small nod to them before turning back to her and leaning closer to say something, but her gaze doesn’t sway from Deena.

Deena gives her a playfully disapproving look, now understanding Sam knew all about this party and didn’t tell her, and she flirtatiously simpers at her in return.

“You’re literally drooling.”

Deena looks back at Kate and rolls her eyes at the interruption. “I am not. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Babe, everyone knows what I’m talking about.”

Simon pops his head in between them, tossing a chip in his mouth. “What are we talking about?”

“Sam,” Kate answers, “and the way Deena's drooling over her.”

“Oh,” he says, turning to Deena. “Yeah.”

“Wh — shut up!” She reddens, flustered, and decides it best to walk off before they embarrass her further.

She rounds the corner into the living room when she bumps into someone and a drink spills on her. Her jaw clenches as she looks down at her soiled shirt.

“Shit,” the girl says. “I’m so sorry.”

Deena huffs before she looks up at her. “Don’t be sorry; it’s, like, the universe’s sick way of messing with me.” She starts to walk off before she stops her.

“The universe sends people to spill drinks on you?”

“Pretty much,” Deena says. “This entire night is like one huge drink spilled all over me, so.”

“What, you’re not enjoying yourself?” Deena shakes her head no. “Me neither,” she admits. “It’s a shitty party. They have a pretty cool music collection down here, though.”

Deena smirks, tilting her head a bit. “You’re snooping through my music?”

Her face falls, and she falters as she tries to get words out. “This is … your party. Oh.”

“Not my party,” she rejects. “But it is my house, and that is my music.”

She nods, laughing awkwardly. “I was definitely snooping then.”

They’re interrupted by Sam, who puts a hand on the small of Deena’s back. “Hey,” she says. “You left the kitchen before I could come over and say hi.”

“Oh, sorry, I was escaping Kate. Um, this is …,” she trails off, looking to the girl for an answer.

“Nat,” she says, and Deena smiles at her.

Sam clears her throat uncomfortably, the look Deena was giving the girl making her uncomfortable. “I’m Sam. So, what were you two talking about?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just complimenting the music collection down here.”

“Yeah, this is nothing,” Deena says. “You should see what I have upstairs.”

Nat arches an eyebrow at the invitation. “Okay,” she says.

Deena blanches at her, not expecting her to take her up on the offer. “What?”

“I’d like to see what you have upstairs.”

Sam’s hand crumples into a fist, but Deena doesn’t notice. “Oh,” she giggles nervously, “okay —”

“I’ll come, too,” Sam interrupts, but Kate is soon at her side.

“Sam, hey,” she says, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

“In a second,” she answers. “We’re about to go upstairs.”

Kate takes her hand. “Sorry, it can’t wait.” She looks at Deena. “You guys go ahead.”

Sam watches helplessly as they walk off, and Deena takes Nat’s hand to lead her through the crowd and up the stairs. Once they’re out of sight, she glares at Kate. “What is it?”

“Sam,” she gives her a knowing look, “I don’t think they’re actually going to be looking at her music collection up there.”

It’s not something she wants to hear, and she looks back up, hoping to see them come back down.

But they don’t, and the realization starts setting in. She asks Kate who that was, and she says she doesn’t know, but that she’s sure she’ll find out come tomorrow morning.

It makes Sam sick, and she’s confounded by what just occurred. She was going to spend tonight with Deena — they were going to dance together and drink together and she was supposed to have her all to herself, like usual.

It’s a new feeling for her, and she’s getting more worked up as each second passes. Kate asks her if she’s okay, but she doesn’t answer. She walks off, in search of a distraction, and when she finds her boyfriend, she masks her sullen look as best she can.

“Chris,” she calls, and when he meets her eyes, she waves him over. “Come here.”

She takes him to the bathroom, and when they open it, they find a few kids in there, snorting crushed up pills that Kate probably sold them. Chris tells them to leave, and they do, and Sam locks the door behind them.

“Everything okay?” He asks, and Sam shuts her eyes momentarily before she turns around to face him.

She doesn’t answer, instead leaning forward to kiss him, arm reaching behind his neck. She’s quick to deepen it, hopping up on the sink counter, and she fumbles with the button of his jeans before he stops her.

“Whoa,” he takes her hands, “slow down.”

But she can’t. Because she needs a diversion, and it seems like this is her only option. Deena’s upstairs, and — she huffs, taking off her top. After that, he doesn’t seem to care all that much about the pace.

He unbuttons her jeans and then his own and she tries to focus on what’s happening here, with him. But her eyes catch a crumpled up shirt on the floor, and she knows it’s Deena’s. She shuts them closed instead, hoping that would keep reminders of her at bay, but she’s wrong. She tries, but flashes of Deena’s face come anyway, and so does the sight of her leading another girl up to her room. She breaks the kiss at that, and Chris moves to her chest instead.

He starts sliding down her pants and, all of a sudden, she realizes that his hands are too rough for her skin, and his lips aren’t soft. He smells like he’s wearing too much cologne and the hot breath on her skin makes her recoil. It’s too much, all at once, and she feels like there’s not enough air in the room, her breaths getting deeper and more frequent in agitation. Her shaky hands reach up to push back on him, and she tells him to get off. It’s barely audible, so she pushes him again. “Get off me.”

He grunts when his back hits the wall. “What the fuck?” He says, but his face softens when he sees hers. “What’s wrong?” He asks, stepping closer to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her hand reaches up to her cheek to check and she feels wetness, not realizing that tears had been burning her eyes. She tries to focus on catching her breath instead, hand clutching her chest, and she cringes away from him when he tries to sweep her hair back out of her face.

“Sam?”

And even her name sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, she thinks. Hands grip the front of the counter for stability. “We have to breakup,” she says.

“What? Why?” He tries to turn her face toward him but she pushes his hand away. “Sam, what the fuck is going on? Are you okay?”

She hops down, not offering anymore explanation, and pulls her shirt back on before she unlocks the door and reenters the crowd. It’s a terrible idea, she knows that now, because the stairs are in her line of sight again and there’s people everywhere and Deena’s in her room, with a girl.

She feels dizzy at the thought, and she starts asking around for Simon, trying to find him in the sea of people. When she finally spots him, she tells him he needs to drive her home.

“Sam, I’m … absolutely blitzed right now.”

“Simon,” she tugs on his arm, and he blinks when he sees her messy mascara.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I need to go home.”

“I can’t drive, babe. Deena’s probably okay to. Where is she?”

“Then walk me.” Her voice is stern, and it almost sobers him up completely. “You can stay at my place, okay? Just please walk me home.”

“Okay,” he says. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He tells Kate they’re leaving but doesn’t say why when she asks, and they walk out using the backdoor — because it’s less crowded, he says.

It’s cold out this time of year, but Simon does his best to keep her under his arm. He tells her to zip up her jeans and she tells him to zip up his, and they walk down the unevenly paved streets, huddled together.

He doesn’t ask her any more questions, and she doesn’t offer any reasoning as to why they had to leave so abruptly, and it’s fine at that.

Eventually, the two of them pass out together in her room, both still in their clothes from the party. Sam sleeps in her bed and Simon takes up the floor.

She feels as if her body betrays itself when she stirs awake in the morning, because the last thing she wants right now is to be conscious. She lays there for a while, just staring at the ceiling, and when her phone rings from across the room, she doesn’t move. She just stares above.

Simon groans at the shrill sound, and he lays there on the ground for a moment before he pops his head up to look at Sam. “Are you going to answer that?”

“No."

“Well, okay, then.” He frowns, getting to his feet. “Hello?”

“Oh,” Kate says from the other end of the line. “There you are.” He rubs at his eyes, not understanding how chipper she sounds after last night. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Well, you found me, but at a cost. You’ve robbed me of my sleep.”

He hears Deena’s voice in the background. “Come meet us at the diner. We’re heading over there to have breakfast. It’ll make you feel better.”

Simon looks over his shoulder. “Um,” he says, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Kate asks, suspicious. “Give the phone to Sam.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear. “Kate wants to talk to you.”

“No thanks.”

He sighs, returning to the phone. “She’s sleeping.”

“Wake her up.”

He puts the phone down again. “She told me to wake you up.”

Sam huffs. “What does she want?”

“She wants us to meet them at the diner.”

“No,” Sam shakes her head. “No way.”

“Then you tell her that.”

“You tell her!”

“Simon!” Kate yells, the voice loud enough to make them jump.

He brings the phone back to his ear, a bit grumpy from all the commotion. “We’re coming!”

When he hangs up, he picks up a nearby pen and tosses it at her.

She flinches. “Hey!”

“Get up. Mom said we have to go.”

“Go without me.”

He sighs, walking over to her. His head hovers over hers as he looks down at her. “What’s the matter with you?”

She shrugs. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” he says, frowning. “You’re not really gonna make me go by myself, are you?”

A sigh escapes her lips, and she wishes she was strong enough to stand her ground, but she doesn’t, because she couldn’t deny Simon of hardly anything.

So, they get up, and they walk to the diner, arm in arm. It’s gloomy out, the way it always is in January, and it matches her mood well. She feels sick, and she wishes it was the result of a hangover. But it’s not.

“God, you two look like death,” Kate says when they arrive. “Why haven’t you showered?”

“Just to spite you,” Simon answers, popping one of her grapes in his mouth. “Did you order for me?”

She says of course she did, and that it should be brought over in a couple of minutes, and then the two of them get into a deep conversation over why she ordered what she did, and did she know Simon at all, because he wants hash browns, and any person with a brain would know that.

“Hey,” Deena says, and Sam looks over at her. “Rough night?” She grins.

But Sam’s not in the mood for jokes, and she doesn’t want to be here right now. So, she abruptly excuses herself to the bathroom, hoping no one will follow.

She splashes some water on her face and tells herself to pull it together. Deena didn’t owe anything to her, she reminds herself. Sam was the one with a boyfriend, and Deena was allowed to be with whoever she wanted to be with. And she knows that’s right, but it still makes her ill.

Because she thought Deena liked her — thought she’d still be around for when Sam was ready to admit to herself that Chris was just the last thread she was hanging on to. And maybe that was fucked up of her to expect, but it’s the truth. Now, she just feels stupid.

She hears Simon say her name from behind her, and she looks up to see him in the reflection.

His eyes are apprehensive, but he doesn’t ask any questions. “Look … if you don’t want to talk about whatever happened last night, then you’ve gotta act more cool, man, because you’re freaking them out.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, turning around to face him.

A woman opens the door, sending him stumbling forward as it crashes into the back of him, and she gives him a dirty look. “This is the women’s restroom, sir.”

Simon cracks a smile at Sam, and she does, too, and they both walk out, back to the table. Deena and Kate watch her with concern, but she pretends she doesn’t notice. It’s quiet — awkward, even.

“Did you order your hash browns?” Sam asks, and they seem to lighten up after that.

Simon nods. “As a matter of fact, I did. At least somebody cares.” Kate rolls her eyes at his dramatics, and Sam relaxes into her seat.

The conversation continues on as normal, though Sam isn’t much of a contributor. She pushes the food around on her plate, and she comments here and there on what Kate says, but she refuses to acknowledge Deena.

She doesn’t trust herself to even look at her right now, the thought of what happened last night much too fresh on her mind.

Simon leaves cash on the table for the bill when they’re done, and when they stand up to leave, Kate hugs the side of him tightly. They walk out together to Deena’s car, and Sam tries to follow, but is soon stopped.

“Sam,” she says, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She decides not to push the subject. “Well, I’m gonna drop Kate and Simon off, but I was thinking, you could come back to my house?”

“Why?” She asks, and it comes out sharper than she intends.

Deena shifts uncomfortably with the question, and when their eyes meet, it’s not a look she’s familiar with. She hesitates before she asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Not technically, she thinks.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it seems like —”

“I’m sure,” she replies, curt. “Anyway, I’m going back to Simon’s house, so I’ll just get out with him.” She starts to walk toward the door.

“Hey,” she says, grasping her arm and pulling her back. “What did I do?”

“Nothing!” She snaps, frustrated. Deena raises her eyebrows in surprise at her animosity, and Sam sighs. “Nothing,” she says again, gentler. “Let’s just go.”

A week passes, and Sam’s not sure how she gets through it. She’s angry with herself, because she thought, by now, she’d be over what happened at that stupid party. She thought maybe her life could just go back to the way it was, when she was dating Chris and sleeping over at Deena’s house, and things were easier.

But she can’t look at Chris anymore, and she can’t look at Deena, either. She can barely look at herself. So she tells Chris she’ll explain things later for him, but that she can’t do it right now, and she doesn’t tell Deena anything at all. She’s so confused and she doesn’t understand how she got to this point.

She thinks she must have misunderstood Deena’s feelings, because she can’t think of a way that she could have sat and watched Sam date other people without feeling the same overwhelming nausea she feels right now. It’s practically torture to be left with the intrusive thoughts of another person’s hands and lips on her — to think about Deena having feelings for someone else.

And she knows she sounds fucking crazy, but she can’t help it. Deena was hers, she thought, and she was secretly always Deena’s.

Avoidance is a part of her daily routine now. She asks her mom to drive her to school this week, and she tells Deena not to worry about picking her up in the mornings. She clings to Kate and Simon, and they’re always so busy playfully bickering with one another that they don’t notice a change in the dynamic. She stays later after school, walking home instead, and she doesn’t answer her phone at night, fearing the caller would be Deena.

It’s not fair, and she knows that, but she just needs some time alone.

It’s Thursday afternoon when the rain starts pouring down while she’s in history class, and she spends the rest of the day hoping and praying that it subsides for just ten minutes by the time school ends.

Of course, it doesn’t.

She tries to wait it out, sitting on a bench outside of school under the covered area, but it just keeps coming. She waits for two or three hours before she hears someone walking up to her, and she turns to see Deena.

“What are you still doing here?”

She pauses, not expecting to see her here this late, and mumbles something about losing track of time in the library. It’s not a great lie, but it’s not her worst. “Why are you here?”

“Detention.” She holds up the crumpled slip in her hand. “Simon’s fault.” Sam nods in acknowledgment. There’s a moment of silence between them as Deena stares at her, and Sam exhales deeply, hating how much she misses her. “Do you need a ride?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

A crack of thunder blasts through the air, and Deena tilts her head as she looks at her. “Really?”

“I’m fine.”

She can’t help but grin at her stubbornness. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.” She turns and starts walking before Sam can reject the offer again, and Sam sighs to herself as she follows her.

They jog to her car in the rain, and when they finally make it, the engine turns over once before it roars alive and her windshield wipers start going, streaking water in their path.

Sam becomes incredibly aware of her breathing in the quiet car, and she tries not to be too obvious as she looks over at her. She has one hand on the wheel, her right resting on the console, and she doesn’t speak as she pulls out of the parking lot.

She looks good, Sam thinks. She always does. But there’s always been something about the way she looks when she drives, when she’s focused and not aware of the small peeks Sam takes of her.

It’s tense between them, and they both know it, though no one says it out loud.

“I broke up with Chris,” she blurts out, and Deena doesn’t react.

“Yeah, I heard.” She glances at her. “What happened? I thought you liked him.”

She shifts in her seat, uncomfortable as she looks back ahead. “I don’t know, I … I thought I did, too.”

“But you don’t?”

“Guess not,” she says, somewhat quietly. There’s a beat of silence, and Deena’s happy to leave it at that, but Sam continues anyway. “I mean … the fact that we broke up doesn’t even bother me. You’d think it would, right?” She looks back at her. “You’d think I care — feel something?” They stop at a red light, and Deena meets her eyes. “I don’t feel … anything.” She swallows, and it’s the first real thing she’s said out loud.

Deena reaches over the console for her hand, to comfort her, like she always does, but Sam buries them deeper in her lap, out of reach. “Sam —”

“I don’t think I want to talk anymore,” she says.

Someone honks from behind them now that the light is green, and Deena drives ahead, her hand returning to the wheel. Her eyebrow is furrowed, deep in thought, and it’s silent for a bit before she speaks. “You’re not going to ask me what Simon did to land me in detention?” It’s an out — a light, easy switch in conversation topics, but Sam’s not interested. She doesn’t respond. “Not even the littlest bit curious?”

She sighs when she realizes she’s not getting anything out of her now, and she finds herself growing frustrated at her hot-and-cold behavior.

When they reach her house, she grabs Sam’s arm as her hand reaches for the door handle, and they look at one another. Deena stares at her in uncertainty, as if she’s trying to recognize the girl sitting in front of her — as if she didn’t know her.

Brown eyes pool in hesitancy before she asks, “Are you ever going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Deena,” she says, "it’s noth —”

“Nothing, yeah,” she finishes the word for her. “I’ve heard that.” A frown deepens on her face, and she rubs her arm in attempt to get her to open up. “Come on. Tell me,” she pleads. “I miss you.”

It makes her feel awful, like she’s the worst person in the world. A lump forms in her throat, and she feels like crying. She knows she’s being unfair — she knows that, but she’s in pain, too, even if it wasn’t inflicted on her knowingly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, before getting out of the car. Deena flinches when the door shuts.

“Hell, it sure is ugly out today.”

Deena rolls her eyes. “It’s ugly out everyday, Dad. We live in Shadyside, remember?”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he says, with a hint of a smile. “Hey, hand me that, would you?”

She hands him a wrench from the garage, and he takes a swig of beer before he puts it to use. They’re in their driveway, outside just before dusk. It’s grey, dreary and wet from the rain earlier in the day.

She looks up, mostly out of boredom, and searches for some sense of a pattern in the overcast clouds enveloping the sky. “Hey, Dad,” she says, and he grunts in response, “remember when I was a kid and we used to go on the roof and —?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he says, gruffly. “Can you hand me those pliers?”

She grabs them, and reaches her hand out for him to take it. “We would look at the stars,” she continues, “and the sky used to be so clear —”

“Deena, I said I remembered.”

“No, I know, I was just saying — I can’t remember the last time the sky was that clear. Can you?”

He shrugs, and she tries not to take it personally. She figures the memories are probably hazy to him, but she knows he cherishes them regardless, despite his abrupt demeanor.

Truthfully, she was just excited to be doing something outside with him. When he’d knocked on her bedroom door, and asked her to come downstairs to help him work on the truck, she almost thought she was imagining things. But here they were, and he was off the recliner for the night.

She sees a car pull up from the side of her eye, and she soon recognizes the people inside as Simon and Kate. He’s hanging outside of the rolled-down window and tapping on the side of her car. “Hello, Johnsons!”

“Oh, Christ,” her dad grumbles, “I hate this kid.”

Simon grins, getting out of the car and walking toward them. “Aw, come on, you know you love me, daddy-o. I could be your future son-in-law one day, you never know.”

“Like hell you will.”

Deena looks at Kate as she parks her car. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Friday,” she replies, like it’s an obvious answer.

“Yeah? So?”

“It’s party time,” Simon says. “Get that ass in the car, girl.” The older man gives him a scornful look, and he shrinks under it. “Sir.” He salutes him.

Deena shakes her head. “I don’t want to go tonight. I’m with my dad —”

“Go on,” he says, head under the hood.

“But —”

“Go have fun.” It sounds more like an order than a cheery wish, and Kate smirks at her from the drivers seat. “Wash your hands, though, before you head out. You’re a mess.”

“Yeah,” Kate calls from the car, “and change your outfit.”

Simon nudges her back inside, and she cleans up in the bathroom while he picks out her clothes upstairs. He calls for her after a while, and when she makes it to her room, he’s standing there, giving her a disapproving look. His hands are placed together in front of his mouth. “Do you have anything hot in here?”

“I’m sorry?” She says, wondering if she heard him correctly.

“You should be. Kate put me in charge of the ‘fit, and this is what I have to work with.”

Deena stares at him for a few seconds, piercing eyes fixating on him, and he mumbles a sheepish apology before he walks out of her room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything when she walks back out in fresh clothes, and Deena thinks that sure is smart of him.

Kate’s not satisfied with it, of course, and she blames Simon for his lack of fashion expertise. He defends himself vehemently, but she makes him sit in the backseat with Deena as punishment for his failed mission.

She doesn’t know who’s house they’re going to, and she doesn’t ask. Likely, she’ll do what she always does — be paraded around to groups of people by Kate, and drink.

And that’s just what happens as soon as they get there. They’re talking to the chess club, and Deena almost falls asleep from how boring it is. That’s usually her cue for a drink, and she slips out of Kate’s grip to find the kitchen.

She runs into Sam on the way, stepping to the side to catch her attention. “Hi,” she says, smiling at her despite their last interaction yesterday.

“Hi.”

The greeting feels cold, and Sam’s eyes stray from hers as she sips on her drink. “Still not talking to me?”

“Deena,” she sighs, rolling her eyes.

Her stifled, almost aloof reaction irritates her, and her smile disappears, growing tired of Sam’s distance. “Just tell me what it is. What did I do?”

“Stop,” she says roughly, and Deena’s surprised by it. She looks a little regretful as she breaks eye contact and looks around at the party. It seems she catches someone’s eye. “I’ll be right back.”

Deena watches her leave, and her jaw tightens when she sees her walk up to Chris. The last of her patience wears thin, and she searches for Kate again, pulling her to the side once she finds her. “Are they back together?”

“Who?”

“Sam and Chris.”

Kate looks around for them, stopping when she spots the two. “I don’t know. She hasn’t mentioned anything to me.” She sips her drink, unbothered by their potential reunion. “Hey, I have someone for you to meet.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, my cousin, Molly. She’s gay.”

“Kate —” She starts to protest.

“Look, she just came out, and I thought she could use a friend.” Deena softens at that, the reasoning seemingly admirable. “And because I told her you were cute, and also because I think you two should date.”

“Kate,” she chastises, but Kate takes her arm anyway, pushing through the crowd to find her cousin chatting with Simon. They’re right next to Sam and Chris, and Deena tries her best to ignore them.

“Molly, this is who I was telling you about. Isn’t she cute?”

Molly blinks at Kate’s shamelessness before reaching her hand out. “Hi. Deena, right?”

“Yeah, hi.”

Kate squeals. “I can see sparks flying already.”

“Kate, I know I’m lucky you’re not a bigot,” Molly starts, “but I really wish you were right now.”

Deena snorts.“Brutal.”

“Oh, she’s just kidding. She’s just embarrassed because she didn’t believe me that you’d be this pretty.”

“Why flirt with anyone when Kate will do it for you?” Molly teases, and Deena laughs.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone, and let the magic work itself. Simon, let’s go. Molly, don’t fuck it up.” She says before disappearing into the crowd.

Deena looks at her. “Looks like she really has faith in you.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s not overbearing at all.”

They both giggle, and Molly steps closer to her as the song changes, the music growing louder.

They speak in each other’s ears, practically fawning over one another, and Sam tries to ignore it. She really does. But when she sees the girl push Deena’s hair back behind her ear, she can’t take it.

“Deena,” she interjects, excusing herself from Chris, “who’s your friend?”

“Oh, um,” Deena steps back, allowing for more room for Sam. She’s not able to talk for a minute, still shocked by Sam’s presence, but she soon snaps herself out of it. “This is —”

“I’m Molly,” she finishes, giving her a friendly smile.

“And this is Sam,” she says, almost not believing it herself. Sam’s hand finds its way back to the small of Deena’s back, and she tenses at her touch.

Molly taps an index finger on the cup she’s holding, noticing the change in atmosphere. “You’re a friend of Deena’s?”

Sam leans into her, hand snaking to rest on the other side of her hip. “Yeah, you could say that. Hard to keep track, though. Deena has so many friends. I mean, just last week, Nat was your friend, too, right? Wasn’t that her name?”

Deena says her name through clenched teeth, low, but loud enough for Sam to hear her warning tone.

“Okay.” Molly furrows her eyebrows, puzzled. “Should I name a friend of mine now, too?”

Deena awkwardly laughs, trying to change the subject. “Anyway, um, Molly and Kate are cousins,” she tells Sam.

Molly nods in confirmation. “In Kate fashion, she’s trying to set us up.”

“Yeah, it’s nice that Kate’s so good at that, ‘cause it’s pretty hard to keep Deena’s attention, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Deena shuts her eyes for a second, a ferocity rising in her that had been brewing all week. She excuses them before she grabs Sam’s arm, causing her to stumble a bit from her tight grip, and she tugs her away, dragging her into the nearest bathroom for privacy.

She slams the door behind them before her eyes settle in on Sam, dark and harsh and smoldering. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Oh, sorry, did I interrupt another one night stand?”

Anger mixes with confusion at her question as she wonders what she’s talking about and why that would even bother her. “One night stand? This is about Nat?”

“No, this is about you!”

“Since when?” She fires back. “Because this week has been all about you.” Her voice wavers, and Sam can hear the hurt in it. “So, either you’re going to tell me what’s going on, or you can go back to your fucking boyfriend and keep pretending I don’t exist. Okay?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she clarifies, and the seriousness in the girl’s tone causes her chest to weigh down with worry. She tries her best to avoid what she already knows is coming. “You’re overreacting —”

“I’m overreacting?” Deena interrupts, an incredulous laugh following. “You’ve been avoiding me all week, for some secret reason you won’t fucking tell me, even when I’ve begged you to talk to me — to say something, and yet you haven’t said shit. Now, as soon as I talk to another girl, all of a sudden you’re all over me. What are you, jealous?”

“No,” she says, a bit too quickly, and it sounds unconvincing even to her.

Deena’s eyebrows raise, her mouth dropping a little in realization. “Oh my God. You are!”

“No —”

“That’s what this is? You’re done with me because, for once, my attention isn’t a hundred percent focused on you?”

Sam shakes her head, and tears prick her eyes, angry she’s not getting it. She looks off to her side. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t?” She asks, tone thick with sarcasm.

“That’s not why I’m jealous.”

“Then why are you?” Deena yells.

“Because!” Sam yells back. They glare at each other for a beat, heatedly. She tries to take a deep breath, but it catches in her throat, and she knows now that she’s stuck.

“Sam,” she stresses, outraged that she’s not elaborating, her forehead creased in distress.

“I thought … I thought you liked me the way I liked you and —” Her voice is small, and Deena tells her to speak up. It seems insensitive to her, because her heart feels like it’s going to stop, so she spits out the next part, indignant. “Because I wanted to be the girl you brought up to your room. But you — you slept with …,” she trails off, almost disgusted. “I thought you liked me.”

Deena exhales, a small shake of her head following. She pauses for a few seconds. “You’re such a hypocrite.”

And Sam doesn’t know what she expected Deena to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Do you even know … how many times I had to sit and watch you go off with Chris?” Her finger points at her accusingly. “And now you’re telling me that … that you knew this whole time I had feelings for you?”

“I didn’t know for sure.”

But Deena doesn’t accept that, and her eyes burn hot with animosity. “You knew. Sam, you knew.”

“Deena —”

Her demeanor changes, and she’s done trying to understand. She’s incensed, and she gets closer to her. “So, you can have a boyfriend and I’m just expected to wait around. Is that right?”

“No —” she tries to say, but the girl cuts her off.

“No? Either that, or you cut me off completely. That’s why you’re mad at me, right? Because someone actually showed interest in me?”

“I never said I was mad at you.”

Deena looks at her like she’s insane, and it’s the first time Sam feels like they don’t understand each other completely — like they’re on two different pages, no longer a seamless unit like they once were. And it seems like Deena has the same thought.

“I was perfectly fine just —” She stops, but it doesn’t take much to figure out what she was going to say. “You ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” She asks, exasperated.

“Us — you ruined us.”

“There’s no us, Deena, because you never even fucking tried to —”

Deena doesn’t let her finish. “Sam, you were with Chris! What, exactly, did you expect me to try for?”

“Oh, like you cared about him so much,” she taunts.

“I cared about you,” she bites, “and I trusted you enough to let me know if something changed. I guess I misjudged you.”

“I guess you did!” She yells.

Deena glowers at her, and she scoffs. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me for this —”

“I never said I was mad.” She gives a frustrated exhale, and Deena gives her a knowing look. “You know what, why don’t we just go back to the party? And you can go right ahead and sleep with her or any other girl you want, without any interference from me.”

“Wow, thank you so much for your permission.”

She rolls her eyes at her sarcasm. “Have a good fucking rest of your night.”

Sam starts to leave, and Deena almost lets her. Her shoulder brushes against her and her hand is on the doorknob before Deena lets out a frustrated huff and grabs her arm once more. She turns her around, and they stare at each other with fury.

And they’re not used to it. It’s not their first fight, but it’s, by far, their biggest. It feels like they’re staring at each other with new eyes, and the faked innocence from their friendship is gone. All of the teasing and flirting, the small touches, and the long stares — it all comes to a peak.

And Deena doesn’t know who leans in first, but it doesn’t matter, because they meet each other in the middle, lips fiercely colliding.

Sam angrily shrugs Deena’s grip on her arm off with force before her hands clasp the sides of her face, keeping her close as if she’s afraid the girl would leave. She shoves Deena against the sink and tries not to fall apart from the way her hands start traveling her body, their lips hastily moving against the other’s.

Years of tension release, melting before them, and Deena can’t decide if she’s happy or angry about it finally happening. She’s furious, because she spent so much time dissecting Sam’s every move — thinking she was crazy for even pondering the thought that Sam could feel the same way. But she can’t deny that being away from her, even for the last week, was like torture. So, this — it’s like a breath of fresh air.

She feels Sam drag a thumb on her bottom lip as they part, as if she can’t believe it’s happening either, and the lustful look in her eyes as she stares at her lips drives Deena crazy. Sam pulls her in once more, deepening the kiss with great fervor.

Her hands travel down past her backside to her upper thighs and she lifts her up onto the counter, stepping in between her legs, pushing their bodies together.

She thinks about all of the stress that had built up in her body, just going over what that girl got to do to her. Because Sam has wanted to do this for so long, and now it was happening.

Deena’s lips seek out her neck, and the way her curls trace along her cheek as she kisses up her jaw is intoxicating. She can smell her shampoo, and her hands grip tightly onto her hips, and doesn’t try to hold back the small sound that escapes her as Deena’s teeth scrape her skin.

She craves her mouth once more and brings them back together, hands moving to her thighs. A sigh escapes Deena’s lips as she spreads them further apart, and she fumbles behind Sam to unzip her dress.

The fabric falls down, and Sam manages to get one arm out of the sleeve, but is distracted when Deena’s hands reach her chest. The kisses become harder, more intentional and deliberate, and her hands grip her thighs tighter.

The sound of the bathroom door opening sends them scrambling, and they meet eyes with some boy from their school. He hoots and hollers at the sight, smirking at what he walked in on, and Sam fumbles as she tries to pull her dress back up.

Deena hops down from the sink and wipes at her lips, knowing Sam’s mauve lipstick is tracked across them. When she passes the boy, she pushes him back, hard, by his forehead, and shuts the door behind them, leaving Sam alone to redress herself in the bathroom.

She searches for Kate frantically, and when she finds her, she demands her keys.

“Well, it sure looks like things worked out with Molly,” she quips, and Deena shakes her head.

“Give me your fucking keys, Kate.”

“Jeez, chill out. Molly has her own car, just go home with her if you’re so eager to leave.”

“Kate,” she shouts, and the girl’s eyes widen. “I didn’t hook up with Molly, okay? So, you go home with her.”

“Whose lipstick is that, then?”

“Oh, my God —”

“My cousin just comes out, and is immediately heartbroken by my best friend, who just hooks up with whoever these days, it seems like —”

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, and leans closer to her. “It’s Sam’s! Give. Me. Your. God. Damn. Keys.”

“Say no more,” she replies, and soon, Kate’s mom’s keys are in the palm of her hands.

Deena doesn’t talk to anyone the day after.

She ignores Kate’s pressing questions, and doesn’t entertain Simon’s antics. She avoids Sam at all costs.

She’s so angry with her, and she knows she has a right to be — but at the same time, she’s angry with herself, because she knows things wouldn’t be like this if she’d just listened to Kate and told Sam how she felt.

Because despite how she feels right now, logically, she knows Sam isn’t some evil girl that thinks of Deena as a plaything. She was just figuring things out and developing feelings for her best friend, and Deena knew firsthand how scary it was to maneuver.

But that’s logically. Emotionally — she’s furious. She feels used and slighted, and how fucking unreasonable was it of Sam to just assume she’d be waiting around for her.

She’d been hung up on her forever, and it just serves to confuse her more as she thinks about the way Sam kissed her last night — how she set her on the countertop and stood between her legs, gripping her thighs with an ache in her that Deena’d never seen before.

It’s complicated and it leaves her in a fog the entire day. She can’t focus, and she doesn’t pay attention to anything around her, because all she can think about is Sam.

She’s halfway out to her car when she realizes she’s left her bag in her math class, and she has to walk all the way back inside.

The hallways are mostly empty, except for a few stragglers still making their way out, but she stops in her tracks when she sees Sam talking to Chris by his locker.

They meet eyes from across the hall, and Deena doesn’t linger for long before she continues on to her class, wanting more than anything to get this day over with.

Sam follows her, and when they’re alone in the classroom, she asks, “Are you trying to hide from me?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing these days?” She snaps back, picking up her bag.

Sam decides to ignore her snide remark, and her hands meet in front of her as she wrings them nervously. “Do you … want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” She asks, her tone cutting.

Sam frowns at her cold disposition, and she finds it bothersome that all she seems to want to do is trade digs back and forth. “If you’re mad at me, Deena, then just say so.”

“That’s really funny coming from you.” Sam’s eyes narrow, and she decides she doesn’t like this side of her. “Or, wait, you’re not mad, sorry, I forgot.”

“Fine!” She snaps. “I’m fucking angry. And yeah, maybe that does make me a hypocrite —”

“It does, Sam. It makes you a big fucking hypocrite.”

“Then I don’t care!” She fires back.

“Then, no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sam crosses her arms in frustration, and Deena clenches her jaw. “Fine,” she says again.

“Great,” she seethes. “I’m sure your boyfriend will be stoked.”

Her hands flip up in vexation before they fall back down to her sides. “I already told you, I broke up with him.”

“Then what are you even doing talking to him?”

“Now who’s jealous?”

Deena blinks, almost in disbelief. “You’re trying to make me jealous.”

“Is it working?”

Her mouth twitches up into a smirk, but it’s entirely humorless. She shakes her head in resistance, finding it comical that Sam thinks this scheme would work on her. “Don’t play this game with me, Sam. You’re not going to win.”

“I’m not playing a game,” she insists, and Deena sighs, setting her bag down, because she knows she’s lying, and now she wants to prove it.

“Then why were you talking to Chris?”

Sam shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant as Deena walks toward her. “He invited me to dinner.”

“Oh, really?” She asks, backing her into the counter. Sam clears her throat lightly when the back of her hits it, and Deena closes in on her. “Where?”

“Someplace nice.” She swallows hard. “In Sunnyvale, actually.”

“Wow,” she whispers, and her right hand moves to rest on her outer thigh, near the hem of her dress. She looks down as she pushes the fabric up a bit, and then meets their eyes again. “Good for you. Are you gonna go?”

“Maybe I —” She stops momentarily as she feels her fingers travel to her inner thigh, and, determined, she continues on, even as they travel further. “Maybe I should.”

Deena tilts her head, leaning in closer, and her hand settles in between her legs. Lips ghost the skin of her neck. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” is all she can say before her breaths grow unsteady from her touch. She pulls Deena closer, hand trembling as it rests on her back, and a quiet, shaky ‘fuck' leaves her lips, barely loud enough for Deena to hear.

“What are you gonna wear?” She asks, moving her hand leisurely, and Sam can’t respond. She can barely continue to stand up. “This is a nice dress. You could wear this.” She hums, feigning deep thought. “Might be a bit awkward, though, considering ….”

And Sam decides she can’t take it anymore, moving her face to meet Deena’s, and craning her neck to meet their lips — but Deena pulls back, and her hand does, too. Sam catches her wrist, and Deena’s eyebrows raise.

“Guess I win,” she quips, and Sam nods along wordlessly.

Part of her wants to leave — to tell Sam to go fuck herself, and walk out, knowing she was the stronger person. But right now, it’s a very small part of her, and it’s lessening by the second.

Because Sam is looking at her with want, and need, and she’s yearning for more — Deena knows she is, because she feels the same, and she figures maybe neither of them win today.

Sam leans forward to kiss her again, but Deena pulls back once more, and she tugs back on her grip to free her wrist. Sam obliges reluctantly.

Hands move to her hips, and she pushes her back slightly on the counter as she hikes her dress up. There’s a look of hunger in her eyes, and Deena maintains her gaze as she descends to her knees.

The dress falls like a cloak around her, and she uses a hand to pull down her underwear, while the other reaches out to grab Sam’s, bringing it down to rest on the back of her head. 

A breathy groan leaves Sam’s lips when Deena settles in, and she wastes no time in devouring her. She’s consumed with desire, and heavy breaths occupy the space around them.

It’s unhurried and erotic and — 

“Aah!”

Deena stills, and Sam looks up to see Simon standing at the door, frozen in mortification. “What are you doing?” She yells, and he holds a binder up in front of his face after breaking out of his trance. “Simon!”

He peers out from the side of his binder, looking her up and down with wide eyes. “That better be Deena under there!”

“Oh my God, get out!” She screams, reaching on the counter for a nearby book. She throws it at him, and he uses his binder as a shield, recovering his face.

“Deena, is that you under there, babe?”

She rests her head against the thigh draped over her shoulder. “Jesus Chr — yes, Simon, go away!”

“Okay, okay!” He panics. “Oh, and don’t forget your bag. You left it in here.”

Deena huffs. “Simon, get the fuck out of here.”

“I’m backing out!” He walks backward, groaning in pain when his back hits the door frame. “And … I’m out.”

The door shuts, and the two of them stand still for a moment, processing what just happened.

Deena finally moves to stand back up, and Sam is covering her face with her hand in shame. Deena wipes her mouth. “Now, that … that has to be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me.”

Her blue eyes peer through her hand, and she sighs heavily. Deena reaches in her jacket pocket and pulls out her underwear, and Sam blushes pink as she kneels back down to pull them back up for her.

Deena glances up at her after fixing the lower half of her dress, and Sam reaches down to wipe at a side of her mouth with her thumb. “Missed a spot.”

Deena’s hand reaches up to grasp hers, and she pops her thumb in her mouth, tasting the last of her. Sam exhales, and her eyes shut momentarily. When she opens them back up, Deena’s standing face-to-face with her again.

Her eyes scan over Sam’s face, and soon, the lust is replaced once again by a kindling resentment. “Have fun with Chris,” she says, and she gathers her bag before leaving.

It takes a few days for her to be able to look Simon in the eye again after their incredibly awkward encounter, but he doesn’t tease her about it. So, when she finally musters up the courage, he gives her a warm hug.

“Deena, don’t be embarrassed. I barely saw anything. Plus, you’ve seen me naked tons of times.”

She nods, memories of a streaking Simon coming to mind. “Unfortunately, that is true.”

“So, no biggie. At least you’re not in Sam’s position. That’s much more embarrassing. Looked like you were doing a good job, though.” Deena gives him a chagrined look, but he doesn’t seem to realize it. “By the way, congratulations on having a wet dream come true. I mean, not everyone’s so lucky —”

She buries her head in her hands. “Oh my God, please, Simon. Please. Stop talking.”

“I’m just trying to —”

“I know what you’re trying to do, but you’re making it worse, so, please never speak again.” He gives her an ‘OK’ signal with his hands instead.

She tracks Kate down later that day and asks for Molly’s number. Of course, Kate’s ecstatic to give it to her, and she gushes over the possibility of them coupling up.

But her interest isn’t vindictive, she swears. She just needs a friend right now, one that understands — so she invites her over for dinner tonight, and she accepts.

She tells her everything about Sam, venting to her in a way she knows only another person like her would understand, and Molly listens.

She doesn’t have answers, but she can relate to it, and that’s enough. To her surprise, Molly already has a girlfriend. She was just hiding her from Kate — ‘because, well, you know’, Molly explains. Deena just laughs.

She brings her Nintendo Game Boy because she remembers Deena mentioning her brother at the party, and it’s old, but Josh doesn’t care. He thinks it’s the coolest thing he’s ever held, and she watches him play on it while Deena does the dishes.

She’s the opposite of Kate — easygoing, overly considerate, and gentle. Kind of like Simon, almost. Or Sam.

When their doorbell rings, Josh is too engrossed in his game to answer it, and Deena holds up her sudsy hands. She doesn’t have to ask before Molly is already up on her feet, and heading for the front door.

“Oh,” Molly says, quick to put on a friendly smile. “Hey. Sam, right?”

Sam falters, and she takes a step back, unsettled by the way the girl looks right at home. She tries to say something, struggling just to get a few words out, but nothing comes.

Josh hoots cheerfully from inside, and they both look back toward him, Sam craning her neck to see if Deena’s around.

“Holy shit, you should’ve seen that, Molly!”

“Did you beat level 43 for me?”

“Hell yeah,” he boasts. “Beautifully, might I add. Who’s at the door?”

Sam steps back, almost forgetting that she’s the outsider at the door, but Josh grins when he sees her. It’d been a while since she’d come around, and he tells her he’s been wondering where she’s been. Sam doesn’t know what to tell him, but he doesn’t wait for an explanation, instead leaning back to yell Deena’s name, telling her Sam’s at the door.

They hear a dish clatter from the kitchen, and Sam winces at the sound. Molly tries not to look uncomfortable, but it’s obvious she is, even with her forced smile.

Deena soon appears in the middle of them, and Sam shrinks as they stare at her, feeling awkward standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” Deena asks, and it’s anything but hospitable. Sam’s voice catches in her voice at the question.

“I’ll finish up those dishes for you,” Molly blurts out, eager to leave the conversation, and she disappears back into the house.

Deena has to nudge Josh away, and he resists at first, wanting to visit with her for longer, but she tells him Sam isn’t staying.

Josh rolls his eyes at her. “Good to see you, Sam,” he says before walking off, and then it’s just the two of them.

Deena crosses her arms as she looks at her expectantly, and Sam hates how far away she feels. “Dinner plans get canceled?” She asks, and the venom in her voice stings.

Sam bites her lip anxiously, remorseful about their last argument. “I wasn’t really going to go out with him again, I was just …,” she trails off.

“Playing a game?”

She hesitates before she nods. “Guess so. It was stupid — I’ve been stupid.”

“You should’ve called,” she tells her. “You would’ve saved yourself a trip.”

“But I wanted to see you.” She looks down for a beat to gather some courage before she looks back up. “Look, you were right. You win. I don’t want to do this anymore, I just want you and —"

Deena cuts her off, not interested in whatever she had to say. “Sam, just … go home.”

“But —”

“I should’ve never —” She stops, huffing under her breath. “What we did — that was a mistake, okay? This entire thing has turned into something it never should’ve turned into. And I don’t want to do this right now, so, go home, okay?”

She moves to close the door, but Sam steps forward, stopping it. “Deena,” she says, her breath catching. Her eyes frantically search hers, and her heart pounds against her chest. “I think …,” she gulps.

“What?” Deena snaps, and Sam stills.

“I love you,” she says.

Her eyebrows furrow, and her eyes narrow as Sam stares back at her, scared. She doesn’t know what to feel — much less what to say, because she’s so fucking angry at her, but God, she loved her, too, and she always has.

And she wonders what Sam expects her to do now. 

“Deena?”

“Go home,” she repeats, and her chest wrenches as she says it.

Sam eventually nods, and she tries not to cry before she turns around. The door closes behind her, and it feels much worse than she could’ve ever imagined.

She bikes her way to Kate’s house, because it’s nearby and she didn’t want to be alone. And Kate would know what to do — she always did.

It’s Simon who opens the door, and his wide smile falls as he sees the expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t respond before she falls into his arms, wrapping around him, and he hugs her back.

A moment passes before he says, “I don’t want to stress you out more but I have marinara sauce all over my hands. And now … all over you.”

Sam parts from him, attempting to look over her shoulder. She can feel the wet patches. “Simon,” she sighs.

“I’m sorry! You came in for the hug and it’s just my natural instinct. Arms up,” he says, like he’s talking to a child, but Sam obliges anyway, and he peels the soiled shirt off of her. “There we go. All better. Now, tell me what happened.”

“Oh, nothing.” Sam walks in, throwing herself on Kate’s couch. “It’s just that Deena wants nothing to do with me and she invited Molly over and she’s playing video games with Josh and it’s all my fault.”

“Deena has a girl over?” Simon asks.

Kate pops her head in from the kitchen. “Ooh,” she awkwardly smiles. “That one might be on me.”

“And she’s hot and cool and she has a car — she’s three out of three — and I’m just a loser with a bike.”

“Kate,” he tuts.

“I’m sorry!” She says, walking over to them with a red-stained apron on. “But like … Deena’s been obsessed with Sam forever and —”

“Dude,” he says, disappointed. He kneels down beside Sam. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Molly. Sure, she’s hot and funny, and she’s really thoughtful — and yeah, maybe she’s really fun to be around, and she plays bass, and maybe —”

“Are we getting to a ‘but’ here?”

“Oh, right,” he says. “But, you’re Sam.”

She waits for him to expand, but he doesn’t. “Gee, you really mean all of that? Thanks.”

“What?”

“It’s just that you had so many nice things to say about Molly.”

“Yeah, Simon, you kind of did.” Kate agrees. “What I think Simon means to say, Sam, is that, sure — Molly rocks. She’s a part of my bloodline, so, naturally, that makes her talented and beautiful.”

“You guys are terrible at this.”

“But do you know how many girls I’ve tried to set Deena up with? They’re never good enough, because they aren’t you.” She puts her hands on her hips. “God, even Jen. Remember her?”

“Yeah, I really liked Jen.”

Kate grins, and she starts giggling. “Remember when she —”

He gasps. “Yes! Oh my God, and then she —”

Kate nods and they fall into a fit of laughter, seemingly understanding each other without saying anything.

“Oh, man,” he exhales, his hand resting on his stomach when he’s able to catch his breath again, “she was the best.”

“She really was.”

“Yeah.” Sam frowns, not even able to deny it. “She actually was.”

Kate looks back at her, eyes widening as if she forgot what the purpose of this was. “But,” she says, an awkward chuckle following, “she’s not you. Look, Deena’s always only wanted you — and I just think, somewhere along the way recently, that you both just had bad timing. She thought you were getting serious with Craig, and —”

“Chris,” Simon corrects.

“That’s what I said.”

“You said Craig.”

“Isn’t that his name?”

“No, it’s Chris.”

She hums. “Are you sure?”

“Umm,” Simon tilts his head. “I think so.”

Sam huffs. “Guys, you’ve met him, like, a dozen times, at least.”

“Wait,” Simon says, “is it really Craig?”

“Oh my God, it’s Chris,” Sam replies.

“I swear that’s what I said.”

“Kate, no, you said Craig.”

“Well, they’re basically the same name,” she says. “Anyway, like I was saying — she thought you were getting serious with him, and you thought she’d make a move on you, and you were both wrong. Now, personally, I’ve … never been wrong, so I don’t know how it feels, but —”

“It sucks,” Sam says.

“The point is that you just need to give her time, because she gave you yours. She waited.”

Sam groans, and she slides down to lay on her side. “But it’s hard.”

“That was beautiful, Kate,” Simon says.

“Wait,” Kate furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “Sam, where is your shirt?”

She frowns, and she looks quite pitiful. “Simon got marinara sauce all over it.”

“Yeah,” he purses his lips awkwardly, “sorry about that.”

Kate frowns. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you come with us to the bonfire tonight?”

“Yeah,” Simon agrees. “It’ll be fun. We made lasagna.”

Sam pauses. “You made lasagna for a bonfire?”

“Wh — no, Simon, this isn’t for us,” Kate says.

“Wait, what? Then what are we cooking this for?”

“I told you. It’s for my neighbor.”

His face falls, disappointed. “What does he need lasagna for?”

“His wife is in the hospital.”

“Oh,” he says. “Do you think he’d be cool if I take a slice?”

She looks at him for a while, eyes narrowing. “No, Simon, I don’t think he’d be ‘cool’ with you taking a slice out of his lasagna.”

“Well, she’s not going to be eating it.”

“Oh my God, she’s coming. Kate, she’s coming!”

“Okay, okay, look at me, Simon. Look at me.” Kate steps in front of him, placing two hands on his shoulders. He has to squat down to meet her eye level. “Look, we talked about this, okay? Just be cool. Let me do the talking.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Be cool … be cool.”

“You can do this.”

He takes a deep breath in preparation, and they give a final nod in confirmation before they part, standing next to each other as Deena approaches them.

“Hey!” Kate smiles, but Deena waves a dismissive hand in front of her.

“Who invited Sam?” She asks, and Simon looks up, afraid to make eye contact with her.

Kate hums, switching her weight from one foot to the other. “I think maybe Glen, from Spanish.”

But Deena’s not paying attention to her. She steps closer to Simon, and he gulps at her close proximity. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Simon?”

“I thought I saw a bird.” He meets her intimidating eyes. “Guess not.”

“Simon —”

“Kate invited her!”

“Damn it, Kate,” Deena yells, palms up in frustration, and Kate hits his shoulder.

“God, I knew you’d break.”

“I’m sorry!” He whines. “She’s scary.”

Kate shakes her head in disappointment. “I can think of someone who’s scarier.”

“Look, man, you left me to die out there. Glen from Spanish? If you were really friends with Sam, you’d know that Glen is in her history class, and her friend in Spanish class is Marcus. Glen from Spanish,” he scoffs, mocking her.

“You just threw me under the bus because I didn’t let you cut up that poor man’s lasagna!”

“I just wanted one slice!” He yells.

Deena watches them, baffled, and she raises a hand to rub at the temples of her forehead. “There is something seriously, seriously wrong with you two.”

“Hey,” she hears from behind, and she glances back to see Sam. Kate and Simon stealthily give her a thumbs up, and Simon winks at her for good luck. “Can we, um, talk?”

Deena looks forward again and the two drop their hands, expressions falling. She sighs before nodding, and her and Sam walk off to the side, sitting on a nearby rock.

It’s quiet between them, other than the crackling of the bonfire and the noise from the crowd surrounding it. Sam feels awkward, and Deena does, too.

“I miss you,” Sam says, and Deena softens at its sincerity. Her hair blows back slightly as a gust of wind picks up, and a rush of bellows come from the crowd as the fire grows. The crowd laughs and yells with mirthfulness.

She looks absolutely radiant, Deena thinks; an orange, flickering glow painting her skin and hair a nice golden color. Her heart swells the way it’s done so many times before. “I miss you, too,” she admits. “But, uh, I can’t do this.”

“Oh,” Sam says, dispirited. “Because of Molly?”

“No,” she denies. “No, I don’t like Molly. I like you, Sam — I mean, I — I love you, Sam. God, I’ve loved you for what feels like forever.” A sad smile graces her lips. “But, it just doesn’t feel … right.”

Sam moves closer, opening her mouth to protest, and Deena puts a hand on her leg, looking her in the eyes to convey the significance of what she’s saying.

“You really hurt me,” she says. “And I know I really hurt you. Even now, being near you — seeing you,” she swallows, “it’s hard for me, and I don’t know how we let it get to that. Because being with you used to be easy, and fun, and … I don’t know.”

“Deena —”

“Look, I don’t want to lose you, and I feel like … like I almost did. Over this. I don’t want to risk that.” She sighs, serious. “I can’t lose you, Sam.”

Sam frowns, quiet for a while. “Okay,” she finally says. “Friends?”

She smiles at her, nodding. “Best,” she confirms, and she leans in to hug her.

Sam holds on to her tight, and runs fingers across her back. She knows she should be happy, because they’ve made up, but tears spring to her eyes anyway. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“I should’ve just told you how I felt.”

“Me too,” Deena says, and she pulls away to face her. “But it’s okay.”

Sam wipes at her eyes, smiling. “Okay.”

They get up together and seek out Kate and Simon, hoping to start off the night well. Sam’s soon stopped by another friend from school, and Deena excuses herself to let them chat.

When she reaches them, Kate’s watching Simon try to balance a beer bottle on his forehead.

“Well? How did it go?” She asks, and Simon whips back up, the bottle crashing to the ground. “Do we finally have a love match?”

“We’re going to be friends."

“Friends?” Kate almost laughs, but it’s not in amusement, it’s from shock. “Are you insane? You’ve been pining over her forever.”

“Friends.” Simon hums. “Well, that’s gonna be weird.” Deena looks at him, confused, and he says, “Because you two … ya know,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

She punches his arm and he yelps in surprise, quickly moving to rub it in attempt to soothe the pain.

“Oh, my God,” Kate puts a hand to her forehead as if she’s getting a headache, “Do I have to do everything for you?”

“I’d kind of appreciate it if you did nothing for me. The whole reason I’m in this mess is because you threw that party at my house.”

“Mmm, the reason you’re in this mess is because you never told Sam how you felt, which I’ve been telling you to do for years!”

She stares at her angrily before giving a frustrated huff and walking off, and she searches for a nearby cooler. She just couldn’t be reprimanded by Kate sober, it wasn’t physically possible.

Simon follows behind her, asking her to wait up, and he has to jog to reach her side. “Cooler’s over here,” he says, and he leads them to it. She waits as he digs around for two bottles, the contents cool, melted ice, and when he takes his hand out, he shoves it in her jacket pocket. “Fuck, that’s cold.”

Her hand snatches a beer out of his, and she nudges him away from her. “Put it in the fire, then.”

Simon chuckles. He watches her pop the top off of her beer, and he hands her his, because he was never good at opening those. She pops his off, too, and they cheers before taking a sip.

They stare out at the crowd, just people watching in silence, before he asks her where Sam is. Deena shrugs, but her eyes follow his pointed finger when he spots her.

She’s laughing with a few friends, hair tucked back behind her ear, and Deena realizes she’s hasn’t seen her so carefree in a while.

“You wanna join them?” He asks.

She says no, but that he should go ahead, and he declines.

“No, I’ve gotta stick with you. You know how to open my beer.” The corner of her mouth kicks upward at his comment, and he takes another sip of his drink. “Kate hurt your feelings?”

Deena sighs, looking at Sam from afar. She giggles loudly when some guy starts tickling her playfully, and the grip Deena has on her beer tightens. “No. It just sucks when she’s right. Which is always.”

Simon mumbles in agreement. A beat passes, and then he says, “You wanna get fucked up tonight?”

There’s no hesitation. “Yup.”

He links arms with her and they walk through the crowd of people, searching for some friend of his. Deena whines, and asks him if it’s the weird guy that always wears a fishing hat, and Simon says it is.

He’s got booze, and lots of it, in the trunk of his car. Deena doesn’t ask why, and she honestly doesn’t care, because drinking straight from a warm bottle of vodka sounds like a really good idea right now.

She learns that his name is Gordon, and he turns on his car radio for them. They’re out much further than the bonfire, in a sea of cars parked on some dirt field, and Simon sways to the music, holding his bottle of gin close. She watches him from the hood of the car, and it’s not long before the three of them are absolutely trashed.

Soon, Simon and her are skipping around in circles, free hands holding on to their respective liquor bottles, and they belt out the song on the radio as the headlights shine bright on them.

“Come along and ride on a fantastic voyage!” They hop to face each other. “Slide, slide, slippity slide! I do what I do just to survive!”

Deena takes his hand and twirls him, and he laughs loudly. “Come along and ride on a … fan-tastic voyage! Slide, slide, hoo ride, that’s why I pack my forty-five!”

They join hands and dance around together, fumbling the words in their drunken state, and he dips her low before they pop right back up, giggling together. Alcohol spills out of their bottles as they move around and take rough swigs, and Deena can’t remember the last time she had this much fun.

She feels a hand tug on her arm, and when she looks back, she sees Kate and Sam, looking infuriated. She meets eyes again with Simon, and they say ‘uh-oh’ simultaneously before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kate yells. “Why are you butchering Coolio while Simon’s weird friend watches?”

“Hey, Sam,” he says, sitting on his car’s hood.

She gives a warm smile. “Hey, Gordon.”

“Why don’t … you guys go back to the … fire parade?” Simon says, and Kate takes his arm.

“You’re coming with me,” she orders, and she gives a warning look to Deena as she passes them.

Deena puts her hands up, feigning fear, and Sam walks closer to her. “Alright, come on,” she says. “Let’s go home.”

“No,” she argues. “I’m gonna … I’m gonna stay here. With Gordon.”

Sam reaches in Deena’s back pocket for her car keys, feeling a bit of victory when she pulls them out, and she puts her hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go.”

Deena shakes her head no, and then all of a sudden, she feels ill. Sam sees it coming, stepping back before the vomit hits her, and she huffs in frustration as Deena spits out the rest of it onto the ground.

“Come on,” she demands, holding her hand out, and Deena sheepishly takes it. She mumbles that she doesn’t feel good, and Sam tells her she knows, and that she’ll feel better soon.

Deena crawls into the backseat of her car and Sam gets in the front, turning on the ignition before driving off the lot.

“Stop turning,” Deena says, and Sam tells her she’s not — that she’s just dizzy, and she needs to close her eyes. But she doesn’t listen. “Where are we going?”

“My house.”

“But I’m tired.”

“I know. You can sleep with me.”

She tries to sit up, groaning before she says, “No.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I’ll want to kiss you.” Sam glances back at her. “Take me home.”

“If I take you home, you’re going to be too hungover to drive me back to my house in the morning.”

Deena tuts, annoyed, and lays back down, moving her hands to her head in hopes she’d stop feeling like she was spinning.

Once they’re there, Sam helps her out of the car, and tries to shush her as they make their way to her bedroom. She sits her on her bed before she opens her closet, and Deena lays back as she digs for clothes.

They soon come flying at her, and her hands instinctively go up to protect her face. She grunts when it hits her stomach, sitting up to stare at her. “Something you want to say to me?”

“Yeah,” she calls from inside her closet. “Get changed.”

Deena chuckles. “What’s your problem?”

Sam walks out of her closet with her shirt off, holding some pajamas. “You shouldn’t have drank that much.” Deena swallows as she looks at her. “What were you thinking? What if I wasn’t there to drive you?” She leans down to shrug off her jeans, and Deena looks her up and down, then meets their eyes again, trying not to be obvious.

“What did you say?”

Sam stands up, blushing a bit. “Just change,” she says, and she dresses herself in a t-shirt and shorts.

Deena ends up falling asleep next to the toilet, and Sam falls asleep there with her, waking up to hold her hair back anytime she felt sick again.

It’s a rough night, and by daytime, she feels like death. Sam was right — she was too hungover to drive, so she stays in her bed all day, and takes the aspirin Sam offers her.

And they fall right back into it. Her head rests in her lap and they talk for hours until she finally falls asleep, and Sam threads her fingers through her hair. It’s peaceful, and Sam feels herself lulling to sleep after a while too, head slumping on her shoulder.

They don’t wake until her phone rings, and the sound makes Deena’s head pound. She looks up at Sam, who looks down at her, amused, and she grumbles to herself as she sits up so Sam can answer it.

It’s Simon, and he asks if Deena is there.

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’s in the mood for a phone conversation, considering you got her wasted last night.”

“Me? I could barely keep up with her. That woman can down a shot like no other.”

“So, she just found Gordon all on her own, and you happened to run into them?”

“Well …,” he says, voice pitched high. “When you put it like that ….”

“Simon —”

“Look, it’s not my fault that me and Deena are fun. If you and Kate are jealous you weren’t invited to our party, then just say that.”

“Your party where you drank straight liquor from the bottle and performed Coolio songs for the guy that never takes off his fishing hat?”

“Wait,” Deena stirs. “I did what?”

She drives herself home later that night, and when she sets her keys down on the table, her dad looks back at her from his recliner.

“Looks like someone had a rough night last night.”

“Nope,” she says. “Just slept over at Sam’s.”

“Kid, I know a hangover when I see one.”

“I feel perfectly fine.”

He turns more toward her, a smirk on his face. “Yeah? Do five jumping jacks right now.”

“That’s ridiculous —”

“Here, I’ll make it easy. Do one jumping jack, and I’ll believe that you’re completely sober.”

She shrugs, takes a deep breath, and does what he asks. Her stomach turns over, and she sees static, but she does it, so she wins.

Josh passes through, leaving the kitchen. “That was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“You’re the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Pretty impressive, I’ll give it to you,” the older man says. “Even if I know you spent the night drinking with your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Her dad blinks. “She’s not? Still?”

Josh snorts. “She’ll never land that one, Pops.”

“Josh,” she grits through her teeth, “I’m going to kill you —”

“You sure you can make it up these stairs, or does it make your widdle tummy hurt?”

Things go back to normal, for the most part, but it’s not without effort.

The guy from the bonfire asks Sam out on a date, with Deena by her side, and it takes everything in her not to throw him against the locker. Sam politely declines, and she doesn’t mention anything else about it. Deena starts walking by herself to class after that.

Sam teaches herself to carefully calculate every move she makes around her, and she soon realizes how often she used to brush her hair out of her face, or rub her back, or grab her hand. She doesn’t want to push any boundaries, but she’s not sure what they are now, so she stops altogether.

Their newfound distance is noticeable, even from people she barely knows. Before this, she’d have the occasional person come up to her and ask where Deena was, because it wasn’t often that they weren’t attached at the hip. It’s only grown since then, and it fills her with this unexplainable sadness each time it happens. She guesses it’s because she never realized how many people associate her with Deena, like she’s this integral part of her identity — she’s just never thought of it like that before, but it’s true. And that was rare.

Because Deena didn’t let people in easily, and it was well known. She was so effortlessly cool — the kind of person that drew other people in. She was interesting and unapologetic — almost intimidating. Special.

Deena had chosen her, and other people had taken notice of it. It just hurt now to realize that she never appreciated that closeness in the way she should’ve.

Sam sees her two friends standing together by Kate’s locker, and she approaches them with a timid smile.

“Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah,” Deena says, but Kate doesn’t look so sure.

“Don’t be mad, but I totally forgot to tell you guys I’m babysitting tonight.”

Sam’s face falls, and so does Deena’s. “Oh.”

“We can just move it to tomorrow,” Sam suggests, but Kate shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll come next time, I promise.” Someone calls her name from down the hall, and she says a quick goodbye before catching up with them.

Sam looks to Deena, who’s doing her best to look nonchalant, and she doesn’t know what to say. They haven’t been alone together for almost two weeks, always making sure to include Kate or Simon. “Why don’t we just move it to next week?”

“No, that’s okay. It’ll just be us.”

“I don’t want it to be weird for you.”

“It’s not weird for me,” she insists. “I want to hang out with you.”

“Okay.”

Deena tilts her head, smiling. “Do you want to hang out with me?”

Sam hums, and she shrugs jokingly. “I guess. Maybe Josh could come instead?”

Deena gapes, and she starts to walk off. “On second thought, I think I’ll just babysit with Kate.”

“No, no,” she laughs, and pulls her back. “I want to hang out with you.”

The two start walking to her car, but Deena teases her all the way, saying that she thinks Josh is at the annual nerd convention, and didn’t she receive an invite? Sam tells her that’s a terrible, childish joke, but it makes her laugh anyway, and Deena thinks it’s her favorite sound in the world.

When they get to her house, Deena pulls in the driveway, which is otherwise empty. “Your mom isn’t home?”

“No, she’s out of town. Remember?”

“Oh, right. I forgot that was this week.” She pauses. “So, you’ve been by yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Sam,” she frowns, “you could’ve stayed with me.”

“No, I know, I just … I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not,” she says, and she takes her hand. “I promise.”

Sam relaxes at her touch, and she squeezes her hand gently in appreciation.

They sit in the living room together, next to each other on the couch, and it’s awkward to begin with, but they soon warm up as time goes on. They catch up on each other’s lives, and Deena wonders if anything big has changed in the last two weeks.

“Are you, like, seeing anyone?” She asks.

“No,” Sam answers quickly.

“You should.”

“Why? Are you?”

“No.” She pauses. “But if you want to date someone else, then, you know, don’t worry about me.”

Sam studies her. “I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“I just know that there are a lot of guys that —”

“Well, I’m not interested in guys,” she interrupts, a little annoyed. “Why are you pushing this?”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are. Is there someone you want to date, and you feel like you can’t?”

Deena hesitates. “Yeah.”

Sam deflates, and her mind reels as she thinks about who it could possibly be. “Who?”

“You.”

She sighs in relief, a small smile making its way across her face. “You scared me,” she says.

“Would you still want to — I mean, do you still … like me?”

“Deena, I love you.”

She grins. “Oh, you love me?”

Sam leans her head on the couch. “I love you,” she repeats. “So, if you ever do decide you want to date someone else, you should worry about me, ‘cause I’m not going to be the bigger person.” Deena chuckles. “I know you want to stay friends, and that’s — it’s fine, really,” she says, “but, uh, I’ll probably be, like, super uncool to your future girlfriend.”

“That’s weird, because I remember you being so cool to Molly the first time you guys met,” she jokes.

“I know. That was me on a good day.” She laughs, and then it gets quiet. “I don’t know how you did it.” Deena gives her a confused look, and she explains further. “Like … all the times I dated other guys. Seeing me with Chris.”

“You never really seemed to like most of them all that much, and with Chris, I just …,” she shrugs, “pretended it wasn’t happening.”

“Impressive. Can you teach me how to do that?”

“What, how to live in denial? Yeah, I’m an expert in it.”

Sam smiles softly, eyes glimmering in adoration, and she coyly captures her bottom lip with her teeth for a brief second as they stare at one another.

The room quiets, and a longing sensation grows, much like it always does when Deena’s the object of Sam’s gaze. 

She reaches forward and takes her hand into her own, and Sam looks down briefly, then back at her. Deena starts to lean forward, and Sam stills. “I thought we were staying friends.”

“We are.”

“Then what are you doing?”

Deena stops just short of her lips. “I don’t know,” she breathes, “do you want me to stop?”

She trembles as she shakes her head no, and her eyes shut as Deena closes the distance between them. Their lips move tentatively over each other, and she remains sensitive to her every move. Her hands immobilize in place as she doesn’t want to scare Deena away, and she fears that wasn’t enough when the girl breaks contact.

“Do you want to go to your room?” She asks her, whispers layering her lips, and Sam swallows hard at the huskiness in her voice.

“Yeah,” she says, and she gets up, hand still holding onto hers as she leads them to her bedroom.

Deena closes the door behind her, and Sam stands in front of her with bated breath. She pulls the girl closer to her, arm wrapping around her back, and she leans against the door as they meet lips again. Sam melts into her, hands shakily making their way up to cup her face, and she tilts her head, deepening it.

They stumble backwards towards her bed, and when they reach it, Deena sits on her lap and lifts her hair to kiss her neck. She gets easily lost in its smooth curve, and when Sam coaxes her back, long strands of her dark brown hair touch her cheek, and the sharp bridge of her nose slides against her own as their mouths meld together.

Sam lays her down on the bed and hovers above her, nimble fingers sliding down her shirt to unbutton the fabric that clothes her skin. She presses a warm kiss to her taut stomach, and Deena feels heat settle deep in her.

Clothes strew on the floor as the night carries on, and Sam’s hand sinks low in between her legs. The air is saturated with breathily sighs of intimacy, and they move together slowly — carefully, and deliberately. Their bodies burn together, and she decides she wants to be engulfed in the flames for as long as she can. They shiver and shake into one another from dizzying heights, and unrestrained pants and moans interchange from one mouth to another, ringing melodiously in their ears.

The night ends with exhausted, glistening bodies, and the sweet comfort of inseparableness. Moonlight sheets their exposed skin, and misty rain textures the window of her room. She lays in bed with Deena’s arm draped over her waist, and as her paramour slumbers, she remains awake.

Deena occupies her mind — lingers there, and she longs for her to stay; to embed herself in her thoughts, so that she may never forget tonight.

The cold side of her bed is now warm, heated by her glowing beauty, whose chest lightly rises and falls with each gentle breath she takes.

And in the morning, just a few hours after she finally succumbs to fatigue, she wakes up to the loveliest smile in the world, and dark and shiny eyes look deep in hers.

“So much for being just friends,” she quips.

Sam gives an airy laugh as she tells her she had no real intention of that, and Deena rolls to lay atop her, amused by the admission.

They tell Kate and Simon after three days, but it’s pretty obvious to her from the moment they all set eyes on each other, because Deena’s wearing Sam’s shirt, and Kate just noticed the little things like that.

Sam asks her how babysitting went, and she says she never had plans to babysit — that she hung out with Simon instead, because she knew it was only a matter of time before Deena plucked up the courage.

“I told you I have to do everything for you,” she says to Deena, and Deena doesn’t have any evidence to argue it.

“I’m stoked for you, of course,” Simon says, “but so much for our pact, Sam.”

“What pact?” Kate asks.

He looks to his side at her. “To get married if we’re both single by forty.”

She looks to Deena and they hum simultaneously, and Sam and Simon wait for an explanation to their silent communication. “We made the same pact,” Kate says, “except I think they’d call it life partners.”

“What?” Simon scoffs, offended. “Why didn’t either of you ask me?”

“You didn’t ask us,” Deena says, amused.

“Because Sam was my first choice and she said yes and I’m not a polygamist.”

“And she was my first choice,” they say together.

Kate grins at her, and she brushes the apple of her cheek. “Aw.”

“Alright, alright,” Sam interjects. “Schmidt, I’m watching you.”

Simon shrugs. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Katie Kat. You were my second choice, at least.”

“Always knew I’d get stuck with you.”

“Second choice? Why did I get third place?” Deena asks.

He sucks in air through clenched teeth, giving her a sympathetic look. “You’re actually fourth place.”

“What the hell? Who’s your third?”

“Josh,” he says, as if it’s obvious.

“Excuse me? Josh?”

“He’s cool.”

“And I’m not?”

“Deena, I could never live with the pressure of being your husband. The stress would eat our marriage alive. Sam is easily impressed; and Kate — her expectations of me are already pretty low, so there’d be minimal conflict. With Josh, we’d live off of pizza and play video games all the time, and that kid is so good at computers, I’d probably be his trophy wife and live off of his riches.”

“That is weirdly insightful,” Kate says.

“See? Low expectations.”

“Whatever,” Deena says.

Simon opens his arms for a hug but Deena rejects him. He hugs her anyway, holding her tight. “Deena, don’t take it personally. You’re a straight dime piece.”

“Oh, Christ. Get off me.”

“But you deserve better than me. Maybe even better than Sam.”

“Hey!” She tuts. “God, you’d be, like, the worst wingman ever.”

But his focus doesn’t sway from Deena. He meets their faces. “C’mon, give me a smile.”

“ … A dime piece, you said?”

“Hell yeah, girl.”

She chuckles, and he cheers delightfully at her grin, giving her a quick kiss on top of her head before he lets her go. “Did you make popcorn?” He asks Kate.

“Of course I did. It’s in the kitchen.”

“Nice. Alright, you two lovebirds start the movie. The future Mr. and Mrs. Kalivoda will get the snacks.” Kate snorts to herself. “What?”

“As if it wouldn’t be Mrs. and Mr. Schmidt.”

They wander off to the kitchen, and Deena heads over to grab the old Friday the 13th movie Simon got from his older brother.

Sam stands beside her. “I still can’t believe we’re watching this. Simon hates scary movies. Why would he bring this?”

Deena shrugs. “It’s not that scary. Maybe he’s gotten over his fear.”

“Maybe.”

And by the time they’re all settled in, it becomes obvious that he hasn’t.

By the fourth shriek, Kate groans in frustration, and she yells at him, “Simon, stop that!”

“Sorry, Kate, I’ll try to muffle my screams of terror in the future.”

“We just started the movie. How are you already scared?”

“You’re not giving me enough emotional support!”

Deena rolls her eyes at their continued interruption and pauses the movie.

“What are you talking about?” Kate laughs. “You’re practically on top of me.”

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything,” Sam starts, “but … Deena, you could be better at comforting me, too.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Ha!” Simon chants, victoriously, and he wastes no time in hopping up, marching right over to them. He sits in between the couple, pushing Deena further down the couch.

She raises her eyebrows as she watches them cuddle together, bringing their blanket up to their face. Sam shrugs, saying a small ‘sorry’ with a smirk on her face.

“Fine,” Deena says. She switches couches, too, joining Kate. She sits sideways in her lap and Kate holds her close, wrapping her arms around her.

“Wowwwww,” Simon says.

“Schmidt, you’re on thin ice,” Sam warns.

Deena just gives her the same coy shrug, moving to unpause the movie.

“I don’t get what’s so scary about this when this happens in Shadyside every couple of decades. I mean, a killer at summer camp? That literally happened here.”

“That’s literally what makes it scarier, Kate.” Simon scoffs.

Deena and Kate share a knowing look, as if they’re idiots, and Simon and Sam share the same one together.

Soon, the two girls fall asleep, and it’s not until the movie is over that Simon and Sam realize. They hover over the two of them, puzzled.

Deena’s head is craned into Kate’s neck, and hers is atop Deena’s.

“Who falls asleep during a scary movie?” Simon says incredulously, and Sam shrugs. He takes a deep breath, and then screams in hopes of scaring them.

It scares Sam instead, who jumps in response. “Jesus, Simon!”

Kate and Deena simply stir, eyes barely open as they look up at the duo, annoyed, and Simon stares back at them, mortified by the lack of fear. “You’re both psychopaths.”

“Shit.” Kate groans. “My leg is asleep.”

Deena moves to sit up, hand rubbing her neck, and she slides off her.

Kate hisses in discomfort as Simon grabs her hands, lifting her up on her feet. “Just walk it off,” he says, but it feels like a million needles are pricking her, and her grip on him tightens.

“Hurt your neck?” Sam asks Deena.

“I think so.”

“Maybe your future life partner can massage it for you?” She jokes.

Deena laughs, and she tells her to shut up before pulling her in to sit down by her side. They watch as Simon leads Kate around the room as if she’s a toddler that’s learning how to walk, and it’s weirdly touching.

Sam decides by the end of the night to go back with Deena, and she doesn’t know why they decided to let her drive, but when Deena asks her if anyone is coming, she realizes very soon that they made a mistake.

“What do you mean ‘is anyone coming’?”

“Do you see any cars coming? I can’t turn my neck that far.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise. “You what?”

Someone honks from behind her. “Is anyone coming?” She yells.

“Oh my God, no, just turn!”

Deena turns left quickly, her hand instinctually reaching to hold Sam back, and her wheels screech as she straightens in the lane. 

She feels Sam’s chest go up and down as she catches her breath, and her hand reaches up to cover Deena’s.

They drive in silence for a while, and when Deena tries to take her hand back, Sam keeps it there, not wanting to let go of that sense of security. Deena looks at her and smiles. “Nice teamwork.”

They break out in laughter as their nerves calm down, and Sam tells her she’s driving next time.

Her house is dark when they get there, except for the blue glow of the old television. It’s muted, and her dad is passed out in the chair in front of it.

There’s a lit cigarette in his hand, and beer cans cluttering the floor and side table near him. Deena huffs, telling Sam to go in the bedroom — that she’d be there in a second — and she takes the cigarette out of his hand, pounding it into his ashtray.

Sam does as she’s told, but she waits at the top of the stairs instead, in case she’s called for help.

Deena shakes her dad awake, and he’s barely coherent when his eyes open. She asks him where Josh is, and he tells her he’s at his girlfriend’s, and to let him go back to sleep.

“Come on,” Deena says, pulling on him. “Let’s get you in bed.” He resists, and she feels herself growing angry with him. “Dad, you shouldn’t be sleeping out here. It’s not good for your back —”

“Damn it, Deena, I’ll do what I want.”

She huffs, deciding against arguing with him, and picks up the empty cans, bundling them in her arms before she trashes them. She takes a moment to herself in the kitchen before she walks back out, slipping his lighter in her pocket to prevent him from smoking for the rest of the night.

Once she reaches the stairs, she jumps a bit at the sight of Sam sitting at the top, staring down at her. “Jesus, Sam —”

She quickly apologizes, waiting for Deena to reach her, and when she does, she pecks her on the lips. “You good?”

She nods — says she’s fine, and not to worry about it, and they go to her room to get ready for bed.

She grimaces in pain as she takes her shirt off to change, and Sam frowns at the sight. “You really hurt it?”

“It’s just the way I slept. I’ll be fine.”

Sam tuts, and she grabs the clothes from her. “Let me help,” she says, and she takes the time to finish dressing her. “Come sit down. I’ll massage it.”

Deena hums. “No thanks.”

She gapes. “What — why not?”

“What if you make it worse?”

“I’m not going to make it worse, I’m going to make it better.” She pats the bed. “Now come here.”

Deena hesitates before Sam gives her a pointed look, and she finally relents, moving to sit where directed. Sam shifts to sit behind Deena, legs on either side of her, and she rests her hands on her shoulders.

She tells her to show her where it hurts and Deena moves her hand there, warning her one last time to be gentle. She hisses in pain as Sam starts to press on the area, but the girl tries to make her touch as soothing as possible.

It does help a bit, after a while, and she rests a hand on her thigh. “You take such good care of me.”

“Yeah, well, you take good care of everyone else,” she says. “Kind of pales in comparison when you think about it.”

“Not everyone has it in them be such a good person like me,” she teases.

“Do you always tease women who have their hands around your neck?”

“Only the ones I like.”

It earns a chuckle from Sam, and the two of them settle into bed after a while. They talk for hours, staying up way past what they should, and they have to muffle their laughter for most of the night, so as not to disturb her dad downstairs.

They share tender, delicate kisses throughout, and Sam feels safe in her arms as Deena keeps a firm hold on her. It’s what she’s been waiting years for — and she can’t believe she’d deprived herself of it for as long as she had.

In the morning, Deena takes her out for breakfast at the diner. It’s not as overcast outside today, but clouds still cover the sky. Sam points one out, telling her it looks like a bunny rabbit, and Deena says it looks like a cloud to her. She laughs when Sam nudges her shoulder playfully at the joke, and they join hands over the console as she drives.