Graduation night. Sam leaves the party, sits in her front seat for a few minutes until she's sure she is steady. She's only had a few drinks, but she pops a stick of gum to cover the smell on her breath. She thinks maybe she should've let Carly drive her home after all, the little teetotaler, but Carly left a few minutes ago in her little green Acura that she got as a graduation present.
Sam drives along the rain-slick street, letting the cool night air pour through her open window and refresh her. She's awake now, her senses sharp, the mental fog lifted. She turns the corner onto a side street. She can see up ahead at the intersection with the main thoroughfare that something is not right. The stop sign is leaning over at an odd angle. Shards of glass seem flung along the asphalt, twinkling under the street lights like a distant galaxy of stars.
Sam hits the gas, swerves around the stop sign that's leaning into her lane, and comes out onto the main street. To her right is a pickup truck laying on its side in the ditch. Its cab is caved in, its windows totally blown out. The green Acura is turned sideways, its crumpled front end blocking the street, its back end up on the sidewalk.
Sam can't breathe. She's paralyzed and shaking at the same time. She finally stumbles out of the car.
A long smear of fresh blood along the street. Moans.
Screams.
"Sam!"
Sam snapped awake. She lifted herself up, her neck stiff from sleeping on the floor.
"You were having another bad dream," Carly said. She sat on the edge of the bed in a pair of boys' boxers, long pale legs before her, silvery little bracelet encircling her ankle, toenails painted black. She was cradling the black and white Rickenbacker she'd bought with her iCarly money.
Sam smiled at her, laid back. She watched as Carly strummed the chords to 'Squeeze Wax.' The dark haired girl took a breath like she was about to start singing, but then stopped playing altogether as her hand clinched up. She held on to the pick, didn't drop it, just waited for the shaking to stop. It passed quickly. She held the pick in her mouth while massaging the muscles in her hand, then started playing again, picking out the main riff to 'Bluebeard.'
"La laaa la laaaaa, la la la laaaaa," Carly sang, exaggerating the pitch of her voice.
Sam laughed.
"I have no idea what she's actually saying," Carly admitted. She laid the guitar beside her on the bed. "And how was class this morning?"
"Easy," Sam said, stretching, rubbing her back muscles into the floor. "I already know I aced these finals." She yawned, then sat up again. "You ready for, um, this afternoon?"
"Yeah." She tucked her lower lip under her tooth, chewed it for a second. "I'd better be." She sighed. "We gotta stop somewhere on the way."
"No we don't."
"Why not?"
"Because," Sam said, crawling on hands and knees to Carly. "I love you." She lifted the hem of Carly's shirt, leaned in and bit the little silver hoop that pierced Carly's navel.
Carly laughed. "Sam, stop it!" She ran her hands through Sam's thick hair, trying to ease the blond's head away from her belly button.
"Grrr!" Sam growled, but let go and stood up. "Wait right here."
"I'm waiting."
Sam ran out of the room. Carly flicked at guitar strings with her thumbnail while she waited. She could hear Sam rooting around downstairs, then stomping back up the stairs.
"Spencer had to help me with this," Sam said, turning sideways to fit her gift through the doorway.
"Oh my god, Sam, you made that?"
"With help from Spencer."
Carly stood. "Oh my goodness. A flower sculpture, huh?"
Sam held the wreath in both arms. From her shoulders to her knees, and three feet across, it stretched, a filigree of birch twigs, a spray of pink roses woven throughout.
Carly leaned in to smell the fragrant buds.
"These are fresh. When did you make this?"
Sam shrugged. "Did it in bits and pieces, here and there. Put the roses in last night while you were at therapy."
"It's beautiful. Thanks, Sam."
"Sure." Sam motioned with her chin. "Better get dressed if we're gonna get out there this afternoon."
The wreath was propped up in the back seat. Sam sat in the driver's seat, finishing her lime smoothie. Carly sat huddled in her overcoat, slurping a mixture of blueberry and blackberry. Her tongue was black when she licked traces of smoothie from her lips. Little droplets of rain rolled sparsely down the windshield.
From the parking lot across the street they watched the woman and her teenage children walk through the cemetery. The kids opened dark umbrellas as they made their way to a grave near the massive oak tree by the back fence.
"Are you ever going to go talk to his family?" Sam asked.
"If you were them, would you want to see me?"
Sam sighed. "The brakes locked up. The road was wet. The cops said it wasn't your fault."
Sip. Shrug. "Still." Carly's dark eyes were fixed on the family as they huddled together under their umbrellas.
They sat in silence, watching the light rain roll down the windshield, watching the family lay flowers, finishing smoothies.
Sam cracked her window, felt at her jacket pocket. "I forgot I quit smoking."
No response. Carly stared; the hand holding her straw was frozen in midair.
"Carly? Carly! Hey, Carls! Hey!"
Carly shook her head. "Sorry."
Sam rubbed away an eyelash. "What was it you felt when you came here the first time? What was the divine thing that happened?"
"Hmm. You know how in movies people always go to a graveside and talk to the dead person?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I always thought that was pure Hollywood B.S. Nobody does that in real life, right? But... I when I finally came here, I felt compelled to. I just told him. And... I know he heard me. There was something in the air."
Sam slipped her hand into Carly's. They sat quietly for a long time, until the family left the cemetery.
Sam opened the back door and moved the wreath out. Carly picked it up.
"You sure you can...?"
"I'm not that crippled up," Carly said, smiling, leaning in for a kiss.
Their tongues briefly flirted against each other.
"I can taste your berries."
"I can taste your lime."
"It's an interesting combination." Another kiss. "I'll wait for you. Take however long you need."
Sam settled into the driver's seat, watched as Carly carried the wreath across the street, went through the cemetery gate. The rain had let up, was now the slightest drizzle.
She could still taste Carly's berry flavor on her tongue. Her whole body buzzed.
Every kiss with her is still as exciting as the very first, Sam thought.
She watched as Carly walked between the rows of headstones, and something in the air changed. Sam opened her center console, dug around until she found a pad of legal paper and a pen. She scribbled down some notes.
This moment is so pure. I will keep finding newer, deeper levels of love. It never stops growing, never stops expanding. Chemistry? Or the divine? What if the chemical and the physical are necessary to transmit the divine?
She chewed on her pen cap, looked up just in time to see Carly laying the wreath against the head stone.
"My energy and your energy are linked forever, Carly Shay," she whispered.
