They lied. The movies, the books, the television- they all lied. When you fell in love with someone, their touch didn't jolt your hand, their smile didn't make your heart stop or beat slowly and fast at the same time. What does that even mean? And any butterflies could be easily rid of with a burp. No, love sneaks up on you, and sometimes you don't even realize it's there. It's more like a battery- the power source that fuels you always doting on that person. It's like you suddenly stop having control of your body and it just does whatever will make the person happy. And the worst part is that you don't even mind. You're in control of being out of control.

You wished that what the media said were true. You wished it had been as electric as they say- that way you would have been able to avoid it.

But no, you had no idea. And you would've stayed clueless, had it not been for that one day. A day ordinary enough, like any other day: with you sitting by the counter, frowning at your laptop, wishing that dumb internet school couldn't tell when you used Zaplook to cheat. And she sat on the couch with her real homework sat in front of her. She almost mirrored your frown, except yours was in anger and hers was more set in confusion.

At some point you decided to give up and you found yourself staring at her. Not really focusing on anything but your eyes just lay on her frame. Studying the creases and lines in her face like the answers to your homework were hidden somewhere in there.

Finally, she turned to you, but you didn't look away. Your eyes actually hadn't even registered she was looking at you. At least until she giggled.

"Hi?" was all she said, but she was smiling at you and you could feel a smile forming on your own face.

"Hey," you grinned. And you just fucking sat there, smiling at one another. It was fucking ridiculous.

That's when it hit you like ton of bricks. And more than figuratively, you felt like you had been slapped across the face with an actual brick. You tore your eyes away from her and slid out the stool.

"I have to use the bathroom." You declared and you winced. Since when did Sam Puckett announce herself like a child?

You rushed to the bathroom before your mouth could betray you any further. You closed the door firmly but quietly enough so it wouldn't raise Cat's suspicion and pressed yourself against it.

When did this happen to you? How did you miss her seeping into your bones? Why didn't you notice when your blood started to pump "Cat, Cat, Cat?"

"Fuck," you breathed. You should've let her get smashed in that garbage truck. But you couldn't, she had you even then. You were enthralled the second you caught her in the corner of your eye probably. It had to have been that fucking hair. It attracts so much attention. Stupid, stupid girl. You hated her for doing this to you. But you mostly hated how you didn't actually hate her.

With resign, you pushed yourself away from the door and crawled into the bathtub, probably to try and drown yourself.

"Sam Puckett, you sighed, "Only a badass until a girl with brown eyes bats them and smiles."

The cool porcelain felt good against your skin. It made you feel cold and silenced your body's incessant shouting at you. That was your one clue. Cat always made you feel too hot.


The next thing you remember was being awakened by an urgent rapping on the door.

"Sam!" was the muffled cry that came from the other side. She almost sounded mad at you. "Sam! Are you stuck in the toilet?"

You slowly rose from the tub, her voice getting clearer as you made your way to the door.

"I know that when the door's closed, that means private but you've been in there for over an hour and that toilet's evil and I'm really worried so I'm gonna- I'm gonna break down the door!"

You were mad at yourself because of how cute you found her rambling and concern.

You yanked the door open suddenly, only wide enough so your face could be seen, and she gasped in surprise.

"Cat," you deadpanned. "The door wasn't locked."

"Oh," she looked down at the doorknob and then back up to you. Her eyes were shining and her voice was gaspy, like she was about to cry. And then you felt bad for making her worry.

"I just fell asleep in the bathtub."

She snapped up, immediately going from near tears to confused. It was incredible how quickly she could go through emotions, like one of those toys where you press the button and the thing inside spins and changes the face. She looked you up and down. You could almost see the cogs whirring in her head. You coughed to stop the butterflies before they got out of hand.

"What were you doing in the bathtub?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. Just sitting."

She paused, the cogs moved again. "Can I come in?"

You opened the door completely and looked at her expectantly. "It's a free country."

She smiled and walked past you, climbing in the tub eagerly. You lingered by the door, watching her, wondering if you could make your body stop feeling this way if you made a run for it now. The fact that you were thinking about it instead of just doing it showed you were already in too deep.

She began to flag you over, looking at you with that smile ever present. "Get in here, silly! This was your idea!"

You frowned at her. "Don't call me silly," you mumbled and dragged your body over to the bathtub, climbing in.

The cool sanctuary the bathtub had been a few minutes ago was now gone. Climbing in with Cat, your legs intermingling, it was like a sauna.

She stared at you, waiting for you to show her the magic of sitting in the bathtub and you were grumbling in your corner of the tub, trying to shrink into yourself, but staring back at her nonetheless.

You don't know why you let her in. You didn't know what you expected to do. Have a stimulating conversation in the bathtub?

It only set it in stone. You just did things for Cat without thinking, and then you wouldn't know why. The only reason had to be that you loved her. That, or you hated yourself. Maybe it was a bit of both.

"What were you doing in here?" She said, fortunately interrupting your thoughts that were threatening to engulf you and when you came up all you would see is red.

"Just thinking," you responded and her eyebrows knitted together, visibly unsatisfied with your answer.

"About what?"

"You." You breathed and no matter how hard you inhaled, it wouldn't come back- it was already in the air and she had already heard it. You squinted at her. "Wondering about what you would look like if you were bald."

Nice save, Puckett. You mentally high fived yourself.

She grabbed her head, defensively, gasping loudly. "Sam! You wouldn't shave my head!"

You exhaled sharply. "Oh, relax. Why would I shave your head?"

Her lips were poked out in a pout. "You don't like my hair." She whispered, running her hands through the red sea that sprouted from her head.

You leaned back in the tub, tossing your arms out to either side of it, and tilted your head back over the edge so you were staring at the ceiling. "Shut up. I like your hair. And it doesn't matter anyway." You bring your head back up to look at her. "You know you'd still be pretty even if I did shave your head."

At first, she didn't really respond, probably because she didn't know whether to be mad or take what you said as a compliment. Her eyes were still casted down but her defensive brushing became less frequent. Finally she met your eyes and withdrew her hands from her hair completely.

There was a short, not exactly uncomfortable silence, and once again you guys just smiled at one another.

"One time, my brother shaved all his hair off and everyone thought he was a cancer patient so they kept calling the hospital because he looked like an escapee."

"Oh my god, Cat." You threw your head back over the side.


And that's what started the past couple weeks that had been the hardest of your life. If only you could go back to blissful ignorance instead of now trying to regulate your body temperature as you sit on the couch, Cat smashed up against you, clinging to you tightly as the teenager left alone in the blatantly haunted house decides to search for the source of that banging sound.