I knew that I should have opted to go to the movies with Carly and Sam.
But when Paige Ritters handed me the can of beer, I knew there was no going back. It felt cool underneath my palm. For a moment I just stood there, feeling its weight in my hand and observing the scene around me. So this is what the rest of the 10th grade class did on Friday nights while Carly, Sam, Spencer and I watched movies in the Shay apartment.
"Aren't you going to drink it, Benson?"
I lifted the can to my lips and swallowed.
At first, it tasted in gross. After a few, I couldn't taste anything.
I found myself stumbling home alone at midnight. The street blurred in front of me and I focused on putting one step in front of the other. There weren't any cars out and it felt strange to be on my own.
Thoughts flew around my head. Things that were safely tucked way in my mind when I was sober began to make their way to the front of my conscience. I shook my head, trying to clear away the images but they wouldn't seem to go anywhere.
It was an image I've been seeing recently, usually in those moments between consciousness and sleep; before I fell asleep at night and woke up in the morning. It was a figure. A girl.
She had long, blonde curly hair, big blue eyes. She was smiling with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
And God, that hair. It hung down her shoulders in big waves. How did she get it so curly? I imagined it to feel soft in my hands.
I shook my head. Why was I thinking about Sam Puckett? I must have been really drunk, I decided.
I somehow made it to my apartment building, and after some tribulation, I was able to climb the steps to my floor. The hallway was quiet, void of usual Tvs blaring and children crying from inside apartments. When I reached my end of the hallway I stopped in front of Carly's door.
I don't know what made me open it. I knew that she was staying over the Shay's tonight, and I was thinking about her and so my mind just kind of led me to do it. It was stupid.
The lights were off and the TV was playing silently in the living room. I staggered around in the dark and felt something hard against my shin. A loud clatter resounded the apartment. "Shit." I mumbled.
Suddenly the lights flipped on. I looked at the disaster by my feet. A collection of random objects sat in a pile.
"Freddork? What the hell are you doing here? You broke Spencer's…whatever that was."
Sam was standing by the couch, rubbing her eyes. My eyes roamed to her hair. It looked just like it did in my mind.
"Sam, I need to tell you something." I blurted without thinking. She looked at me, her eyebrow raised, arms crossed. I knew that my words were probably jumbled and slurred.
"Have you been drinking?" She asked with a wrinkle of her nose as she came closer "You smell horrible."
I was having a hard time thinking. My thoughts were going too fast for me to keep up. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
She was staring at me now, an annoyed expression plastered on her face. "Spit it out, then." She snapped.
"I love..your hair."
I was such an idiot. Such a drunk idiot. I should have stopped right there, but unfortunately, I didn't. I took a step forward. "It looks so soft…how do you get it so..big" I was reaching out now and I knew that I was being an idiot. I knew it, but I didn't stop.
It did feel soft. Unbelievably soft. I didn't think anything associated with Samantha Puckett could be so soft. I had an urge to run my hands through it, but Sam was looking at me now. I was so close to her, I could practically hear her heart beat. She was going to slap me, I knew it.
"Its natural." she whispered
We stood there for a moment, looking at each other.
I had kissed a few girls since my first time with Sam, but I always found myself comparing each and every kiss with Sam's. No one else seemed to fit me as perfectly, no one else felt as comfortable under my touch. When we met each other in a kiss this time, it felt familiar and easy.
She pulled away with a grin. "You really smell horribly."