It was the middle of the night in Seattle Washington, and as the rain poured down Sam and Spencer were running madly through the streets.
"Come on, Spence, we gotta hide!" Sam said.
"May I remind you, this was your idea!" Spencer called out to her over his shoulder.
"Whatever! The elementary school is coming up soon—we can hide underneath the jungle gym!"
"Okay, I see it! Let's go!"
Sam and Spencer dashed onto the school grounds and ducked beneath the wide double-slide on the jungle gym, breathing heavily as they tried to catch their breath. The rain battered against the plastic hanging over their heads. The only light coming from weak streetlamp at the corner of the street, and they could barely see each other.
Spencer sighed heavily as he sat down on the ground. "Carly is going to kill me."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that expensive."
"Yes it was!" Spencer put his head in his hands. "She lent me a hundred dollars for this tux, and now it's ruined because of the rain! I told you we should have taken a cab."
Sam sat down next to Spencer, smoothing out her blue cocktail dress. "Hey, it's not that bad. Maybe that guy bought your sculpture collection, and then you'll have plenty of money to pay back Carly."
Spencer snorted. "Doubtful. After you nudged me and made me drop that champagne on his Italian loafers, I don't think he'll be buying anything from me."
"Hey, I didn't make you drop that!"
Spencer raised an eyebrow at her.
"Okay, I did kind of knock it out of your hands…"
"Exactly! This was the first important, highbrow, formal art show I've ever been featured in, and now my reputation is ruined!" Spencer ran his hands through his neatly combed hair, ruffling it back to its normal style. "And then there was that crazy hobo who somehow broke in, smashed a vase from the Ming dynansty, and started yelling incomprehensible obscenities at me! I'll never be allowed at that gallery ever again!"
"Oh, baby, it's okay…" Sam said, rubbing small circles into his back.
"No it's not," Spencer said as he wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his eyes from Sam.
"Come on, you know it's for the best. Did you really want to get involved in that snobby, artsy-fartsy crowd? They're so not your style."
"But they find deep meaning in the most inane things, and they buy art at such high prices!"
"Spencer," Sam said firmly. "Do not tell me that you're going to become one of those people who only care about money."
Spencer peeked out at Sam. "No…"
"Good, because the Spencer I know doesn't care at all about money, and would rather spend his life having fun and making the most of things. And if you keep going to art shows like that, then you're just going to end up as a bitter and snobby old man who only cares about much he can get for his next sculpture. So, yeah, I won't let that happen."
Spencer lifted his head all the way and looked at Sam, comprehension dawning on him. "Wait… so you were the one that let the hobo..."
Sam leaned back on her hands, feigning innocence. "Maybe…"
Spencer shook his head, a bit amused. "Samantha Puckett, I hope you know that the most important art critics on the West Coast now think that I'm involved with the unsavory street antics of the homeless."
"Well, the fact that they would judge you for that makes them even more unworthy of your art!"
Spencer shook his head again, chuckling softly. "Oh, Sam…"
She scooted closer to him. She felt the woodchips snagging the delicate fabric of her dress, but she didn't care. "I ruined tonight because I care about you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the patter of the rain. "I don't want to see you throw away everything just for some stuffed-shirt critics. They're so flipping pretentious and they just aren't worth it—not if you have to change everything about you."
Spencer felt genuinely touched, and he put his arm around Sam. "Thank you."
She patted his knee. "Don't mention it."
The two sat in contented silence for another few moments, enjoying the contact with each other and listening to the rain pour down. The spot was tremendously secluded, and it felt as if they were the only two people in the world.
Despite the rain, it was a warm night. It was nearing the middle of August, and the past two months had been some of the best for both Spencer and Sam. After almost two years of wanting each other, they were finally together. They had kept it secret at first, but with Sam's eighteenth birthday not too far away, they decided to tell Carly and the others. They had freaked out at first, but after a very long talk, they accepted (even embraced) the relationship.
The ability to be together, relaxed, and not have to worry about others judging them was something that Sam and Spencer were finally able to experience. At least, when they were at the Shay apartment. They were comfortable with kissing each other when Carly, Freddie, and Gibby were in the room (of course, they were the only ones who knew about them). They would walk down the street and hold hands, go out to dinner, and just hang out together wherever they wanted. Sam did not look like a teenager anymore, so Spencer was no longer worried about what other people thought. And they were never explicit in their public displays of affection; hand holding was as physical as they got in public.
That summer was the best that Spencer had had since his own high school days. The daring freedom he felt with Sam, the belief that they had all the time in the world to do anything and everything, the pure and simple happiness… It was everything.
The two would just do whatever struck their fancy. Wanna sneak off to the skate park in the middle of the night for a little graffiti action? Let me get my spray cans. How about we go to the beach and try surfboarding? I don't know how to swim, but that sounds cool. I have a craving for Canadian bacon, what about you? The next bus for British Colombia leaves in fifteen minutes—let's go.
On other lazy summer days, they would simply chill out in the Shay loft, because all they needed was each other's company.
Most of the time on those laidback summer days, Spencer would create a piece of art, often inspired by Sam. She had become his muse, and sometimes he would create a sculpture a day, if not more.
The sculptures that were being shown at the fancy art gallery were directly inspired by Sam. Spencer called his collection, "Scenes from a Perfect Home." They were just a bunch of little things. One sculpture was a tree made of both fancy and plastic silverware, another was made of used and slightly crushed cans of baked beans, another was a bunch of picture frames (only half with pictures), and so on.
One man (the one that Sam would later spill champagne on) told Spencer that the picture frame sculpture was his favorite.
"I find that this can be interpreted in two ways," he had said. "If one wishes to view it in a melancholy way, then this represents a life half-lived; most likely cut off before its time. The empty picture frames will never be filled and only serve as a cruel reminder of what will never come to fruition. But conversely, this can also represent a life with promise—one that is still being lived. The picture frames that are empty will one day be filled, and in that way the sculpture takes on a hopeful character. I love this—such duality in one simple piece. Bravo, my friend."
Spencer merely nodded politely and thanked the man for his input. When Spencer was making the sculpture, he had had those thoughts in the back of his mind, but hadn't recognized them until the champagne man pointed them out. Honestly, it made Spencer nervous. He didn't know which way his life was going to go. Ridgeway High was going to start in two weeks, and the lazy, promise filled days of summer would be over.
It's not like Sam would just go away when school started, but things wouldn't be the same. Summer was always different than the rest of the year, with an almost magical quality to it. When school, stress, and cold weather arrive in September, everything becomes cemented in reality, and consequences exist.
Of course there was always the next summer, but that summer would be shadowed with gloom. Carly, Freddie, and Sam would be going away to college—well, at least Carly and Freddie would; Sam's future was still unclear.
At any rate, Spencer didn't want to let go of summer. Not yet.
Sam sighed. "We're going to have to head home eventually…"
"No," Spencer said hastily. "Let's stay here."
"Won't Carly be worried, though?" Sam asked. "I mean, it's getting close to midnight."
Spencer took out his phone and began texting Carly. "I'll tell her I dropped you off at your mom's. Then I'll say that Socko invited me over to his place for an all-night Girly Cow marathon."
"Wait, Girly Cow? That kids' show on the Dingo channel?"
"Hey, Carly'll buy it."
Sam wrapped her hands around Spencer's arm and nuzzled her head against his shoulder. "You're awesome."
"I know," Spencer said as he snapped his phone shut.
"So…" Sam said, her voice sultry, tracing a pattern onto Spencer's knee. "What do you want to do now?"
He smirked and leaned closer to Sam, his mouth at her ear. "Oh, I have an idea…"
Spencer jumped up and ran out into the rain. "WATER SLIDE!" he yelled as he began climbing up the ladder of the play structure.
Sam laughed and shook her head. Typical Spencer. She stood up and followed him up the ladder.
"Isn't this great?" Spencer said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "With all the water, we'll be able to slide down super super fast!"
Sam rolled her eyes in amusement. "You are such a little kid!"
"Come on!" Spencer said, grabbing Sam's hand and pulling her onto the slide with him, sitting on the edge. "It'll be fun!"
"Spencer, I'm going to ruin this dress—"
"Oh, sorry, I can't hear you over the rain!"
"I do not approve of—"
Spencer tightened his grip on her hand and began to push off. "Too late, we're going down!"
"SPENCER!"
It was too late, and the two began flying down the tall slide, the water ridding it of all friction. Sam screamed, and Spencer whooped with delight. When they reached the bottom, they went sailing off the edge and crashed into the woodchips on the ground. The two lay down on the ground, laughing as the adrenaline continued to course through their veins.
Sam looked over at Spencer, and saw in the dim lamplight that he was covered in dirt and had woodchips stuck in his hair. She laughed and said, "You'll never be able to return that tux now."
"Well then I got nothing to lose now, right?" Spencer said, trying to wipe off a bit of mud from Sam's face, but instead just smearing more on it. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
"Wanna try the swings now?" Sam asked.
"I'll race ya."
"You are so on. On the count of three—one…two…" Sam immediately bolted, and Spencer chased after her.
"Hey, not fair!" He reached her quickly, tackling her. They rolled around in the muddy grass, laughing, wrapped in each other's arms. Their laughter was lost in the rain, audible only to them.
That night, they lived within their own little world. It was the first full night that they had spent together, and it was just like every other experience they had that summer—amazing. They didn't go home until they saw the sun breaking over the horizon. The rain had finally stopped, and they were quite the sight. Two formally dressed people drenched in water and covered in mud, with messy hair and ripped clothing. They walked down the street with their arms around each other, looking up at the rosy sky.
It was perfect.
This was a semi-sequel to Who Cares What They Think? So feel free to check out that story, too! [/blatant self-endorsement]
Anyway, I'm only semi-pleased with this. I like the parts with action and dialogue, but that middle section is SO WORDY. Gah.
Well, reviews make me happy, dear readers! :3 So...yeah. Click that button on the bottom of the page and tell me what you think! :)