Nightshift
Straight Camp
BOOM. Chapter 4 already! Look. At. Me. Go. Now I know that these chapters are kind of short for now, but I promise they will get longer, I just want to show you guys where these two are at in their lives. A wonderful thank you to Loki Firefox for saving me on Chapter 3. In case you haven't had the chance yet, I made some major changes to Chapter 3, because I was immensely unhappy with some original decisions I made, so make sure you take a look at the new and improved version. :) Also Vita Amore Riso left an amazing review; [Oooooh! Yay! Bike and Blam all in one story? Seriously? Awesome! I am so excited about this story. Did Sam get amnesia from the accident? Will he
remember Blaine? Poor Blaine pining away for Sam all this time. Awwwww. They are going to run into each other soon, right right right? LOL.] So I thank you so much for your kind words!
Please review you guys and tell me what you like and what you hate about this, I'm super stoked about how people are responding to this and I can't wait for you all to see what I have in store for this!
Sam hated this place. It was so perfect, and full of fake positivity it was disgusting. Sam had been an unenthusiastic member of the Lima Memorial Christian School for Troubled Boys for two years and he was counting down the days for it all to end. According to the paper work that the man in front of him was reading Sam had shown 'immense inability to cooperate with the school, but a reborn and healed member of society with no traces to ever show the intention of committing disgraceful and deplorable acts of inhumanity ever again.' Even know Sam didn't understand half of the words that were being rambled off to him, he knew what they meant. In short, Sam had been cured of his gay.
In truth, everything was a lie. Sam wasn't at any school, he was at a straight camp, a place where his parents sent him the day after he could leave the hospital, to 'fix whatever was wrong in his brain.', as his father had said.
The only thing that was honest about the whole situation was Sam's obvious hatred for his situation. Once to piss one of the nun's off, Sam made out with his dorm mate, earning him a week of alone time in a room that looked a lot like one of these police moves Sam had seen once. He never went to Bible study unless he was forced, he made sarcastic comments during lectures about homosexuality being wrong and he verbally told the instructors how much he hated them.
Sam had guessed the only reason that they were allowing him to leave was because he had finally turned eighteen, and he was given the option. Before the words could even leave the deans moth, Sam demanded to be released, quickly going through all of the psychological bullshit and random tests to make sure he wouldn't 'spread the gay to innocent people.'
"Samuel." The man said. Sam didn't even look up, he pretended to be incredibly interested in his nails.
"What." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of annoyance.
"It seems as though you are free to go, but I have a question to ask you." the man said.
"Of course you do." Sam sighed, still not looking up.
"Do you hereby promise to uphold the traditions and values installed into you by
The Lima Memorial Christian School for Troubled Boys?"
Sam looked up at the man and stared directly into his brown eyes. "No."
The mans facial expression did not change. Maybe he expected it, Sam didn't care enough to wonder for too long. Instead he went back to his examining his fingers.
"Perhaps one day you'll understand that what we do here id for your own good." The man sighed.
"Perhaps not." Sam said, eyes trained on his forefinger.
"Fine." the man said. "You are free to go." Sam wasted no time in grabbing his bag from the table in front of him.
"I would say thanks," Sam said, stopping at the door that was being held open by a guard. " but you have to be grateful in order to say thank you to someone, and you people haven't done shit for me that I'm grateful for. I hope you all burn in hell." And he allowed the sunlight outside to embrace him.
-OOOOO-
As Sam sat in the back seat of his cab, he pulled out his phone. After he was hit by the car his father deleted every contact, so when it was finally returned to him, Blaine's unsaved number was missing to Sam's extreme anger and heartbreak. It had been two years since Sam had walked into the diner expecting nothing but coffee and instead finding everything he had ever wanted. Since the people at the straight camp took his phone away the second he arrived, Sam laid awake at night hoping that Blaine decided to text him again or hoping that his number would magically appear in his phone again. Sometimes, in his misery, Sam would imagine extravagant escape plans and run to the diner so Blaine could save him from the cruelty.
Sam looked at the phone screen in front of him, staring at the the empty inbox, wishing that he had never been hit by the car, wishing that his parents still loved him and wishing that his time with Blaine was not limited to one singular night.
Suddenly the car stopped. "Here." The cabbie said. Sam pulled out his wallet, paid the twenty three dollars his mother had put in his wallet before they took him to the straight camp to use in case they 'couldn't fix' him and he left the car.
The diner looked the exact same Sam had remembered it, only sunlight surrounded it. Sam could feel his heart beating at a rapid pace as he walked up to the door.
The sound of yelling servers, people talking and banging dishes greeted Sam. Immediately Sam felt a tugging in his stomach as he stood at the podium where Blaine had first greeted him. His eyes traveled to the seat at the counter where he sat that night. He remembered the conversation word for word, he dreamed about it countless nights. He looked for Blaine in the mass of people, unable to locate him.
Suddenly an older woman appeared.
"Hello darling!" Her enthusiasm was the same as Blaine's.
"Hi." Sam responded, just as he did to Blaine.
"How many for you?" Sam felt sick.
"Uh- Does Blaine still work here?" Sam said, ignoring the question.
"No." she said. Sam's heart shattered in his chest. "He left a while ago for school."
"Do you know what school?" Sam said hopefully.
"No honey I don't." the server said. Sam felt like he was going to cry. "I'm sorry sweetie." she added, most likely noticing Sam's expression, which he was unable to hide.
"It's alright." Sam said in a rough tone, trying to hold back the tears.
"Let's get you some coffee." She said, her small hand guiding Sam to a table hidden away in the back of the diner. Sam thanked her as she left to get his coffee.
So Blaine quit. Sam confirmed with himself. And no now knows what school he's in. Now I"m never going to find him. He's gone forever Sam, and you're just going to have to accept it.
The waitress returned. Set the coffee gently on the table and left Sam to his thoughts in the back of the tiny diner that brought Sam so much hope two years ago, but now only brought him intense amounts of heartbreak
