You look at her, longing for the day you could touch her and not end up with bruises as a result. She's so beautiful (even more than the brunette next to her) and you think it's unfair how she keeps it all to herself (after all of her abuse, you deserve something). You watch her as she breathes, her chest (boobies) slowly heaving up and down, trying hard to control your hormones (your "little Freddie") and the blood rushing to your cheeks. Her messy golden curls cover part of her face, so you move it to the side, to get a better view, forgetting who she is, and who you are at the moment (dangerous). She stirs and you get scared that she'll wake up and kill you. But lucky you, she doesn't. You decide to sit back down, and view from a distance (for now) , before anything like that happens again. Minutes pass by and you decide you need a drink (preferably something cold). You get up and walk to the fridge to get some peppy cola. It's probably the last thing you need at 3 in the mourning but hey, who gives a hoot-a-nanny?
"Mmmh, Fredweird? What are you doing up?" she says groggily (beautifully) and you freeze.
"Uh. I uh, just, was, um…thirsty! Yeah, that's it"
"Well, since you're up, get me something, now"
"What ever happened to please?"
"The same thing that's gonna happen to your face if you don't get me a peppy cola" you turn around and see the scariest look she can muster in her sleepy state. You think it's the cutest thing in the world (aw).
"What are you starring at you diphthong?" (you'd like to think of it as a pet name)
"Huh? Oh, nothing" you say quickly.
"Then get me a peppy cola, now!"
"Alright, alright! Keep your panty hose on" you say, hoping she'll come over to you with that same cute angry look (to touch you). And of coarse, she does.
"What'd you just say to me?" she says pushing you up against the fridge (oh no), just centimeters away, letting you smell the scent that is oh so Sam. Beef, strawberries, ham, pork, and water lilies. (Don't kiss her just yet, you repeat over and over)
"Me? Why nothing, nothing at all Princess Puckett" you say with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. She shoves you against the fridge, grabs your peppy cola, and walks away.
"Hey! That's mine!" you try to defend yourself, knowing it was useless (maybe when she throws it away, you can have it).
"Not anymore" she replies, not even looking at you. She's to busy focusing on the new purse she got (stolen you guess, though, its very un-her to have such a girly item). She finds it to be the most amazing thing in the world, because there is a zipper on the bottom of the bag (which doesn't even do anything). She says it's better than sex (and "little Freddie" gets a little sad). She's sitting there zipping and un-zipping it, with the biggest smile on her face, in her own little world (a world you so desperately want to be a part of). You wonder how someone so evil, so maniacal, could be so innocent, and blissfully un-aware at the same time. Next thing you know, you find yourself sitting next to her, laughing along to her giggles. She looks up at you with those big blue orbs, and gives you that special smile only you, Carly and Spencer have ever seen.
"This is amazing…" she says, looking back down dreamily at the bag.
"Sam." you chuckle "It's just a bag"
"No!" she whisper shouts, as not to wake Carly, forming a little pout on her face.
"It's…it's, I don't know how to explain it but, it's just amazing" you really worry about what goes on up in her head sometimes, but sometimes, you like the mystery. You stare at her, while she continues to zip and un-zip the bag, and soon, the inevitable happens, and it breaks. Her face immediately pales as though she's seen a ghost.
"Oh no, I'm such a klutz!" then she goes off into a frenzy about how she's always breaking things she cares about (you can't help but wonder if she means you as well).
"Sam…Sam…Sam!" you shout until she notices.
"Don't worry, I'll fix it, ok?" she looks up at you with those eyes again and nods (and you swear she knows what she's doing to you). You walk out of the apartment only to return 5 minutes later to see Sam clutching the bag for dear life, whispering "I'm sorry" over and over again. When she notices your presence (long after you've noticed hers) she looks hopeful, like you're her only chance to have a long lost loved one back in her arms. You sit down beside her and get right to work. She watches you intently as if its brain surgery, and you can't help but chuckle again.
"What's so funny dork?" she asks.
"You"
"Me?"
"Yeah you, you're acting as if this is a life or death situation, when it's just another bag you stole from some innocent teen at Ridgeway" she looks a little hurt.
"It's not just another bag, you jack-donkey, and I didn't steal it" she mutters, knowing you'd hear it. For a minute, you actually believe she's actually serious, then the next second, you realize she is. Then you realize this can't just be about a bag (it's never that easy with Sam, which isn't necessarily a bad thing).
"Sam…what's wrong?"
"Nothing, just fix my broken bag, no questions asked, thank you"
"I'll fix it when you answer me. What's wrong?"
Silence. Just as you expected.
"Just forget it, I'll get Carl's to do it for me in the mourning" she snatches the bag from you and runs out the door before you can even get out a sound. You know exactly where she's going so you take your time following her, contemplating what to say when you get there.
"Sam?" You say, slowly approaching the fire escape you both have some to know and love.
"Go away Freddork" she silently sniffles. You've rarely seen Sam cry, and every time it's like a punch in the gut. You're never really sure what to do, so you do the usual and sit in the hot pink, bedazzled chair next to her. (It was a gift from Carly to Sam, which Sam hated, and forces you to sit in, while she has the dark blue one with Bad Boy written everywhere, that she bought for herself).
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."
Silence.
"Where'd you get the bag?" you ask, hoping for an answer, but not really expecting one.
"My…dad." she says, and you're surprised, because you have never heard the word 'dad' come out of her mouth before, let alone 'my dad'.
You don't reply. How could you? What would be the right thing to s-
"He died. When me and Mel were little girls. Our house was on fire, and he was so busy trying to get me, my mom, and Mel out, that he didn't have time to. He…he" she chokes a little. You realize that what she has to say must be really hard.
"He what?" you encourage.
"He… didn't get out in time. And when the fire was put out….the found his body….they tried to keep us from seeing the scene, but it was to late…me and Mel had already gotten a glimpse. It was…horrible, absolutely horrible. He was so badly burned, that..that…" she doesn't finish, (you don't expect her to) and you're a little glad she stopped. She was shaking and crying and choking on every word through the whole story. You're surprised she got that far. Your little Sammy is indeed a trooper.
"The bag" she starts as you wrap your arms around her, surprised when you don't receive a punch in the face. "was a gift from him 3 days before the…incident. I was only 5, and the bag was much to "grown up" for me, so I had to leave it in my closet until I was old enough. I would play with the bag every time I got home from school, and dress up in my mommy's heels, and make-up, and jewelry, everything I thought a grown-up should have. He bought a long red carpet, just so I could walk down it, pretending to be a celebrity. He said the bag was a gift, just because. When he….died….the bag was the only thing I had left of him. I don't even know how it survived the fire, but I didn't care. I slept with it every night, waiting until I was old enough to use it, and then this happens…I'm such an idiot." she finishes.
"No you're not, don't ever say that." you tell her, a little anger in your voice. You've always thought of her as one of the smartest people you know, so naturally you get upset when she puts herself down like that.
"Yes I am! I know I'm clumsy, but I brought the bag to school anyways! Gah….this is all my fault. It's like…it's like I killed him all over again. I bet he's looking down at me, hate in his eyes, wondering how I could be so stupid, and care-less with the bag." she says, whispering the last part. A look of sadness washes over your face.
"Look Sam, none of this is your fault. People make mistakes all the time. And last time I checked, you were a person…barely" the last part got her to smile a little, you were glad.
"Whatever"
"Sam, look at me. I bet your dad loved you very much. He wouldn't want you to be sad over something as silly as this. He also wouldn't want to see his beautiful little girl to have tears ruining her perfect face" you let slip and she blushes. She shakes her head violently, stand up, grabs your hand, and drags you to Carly's door. She places a kiss on your cheek, punches your arm, and steps back.
"Shut up and fix my bag Benson."