Chapter Three

I pulled into a parking lot somewhere outside Spokane, feeling exhausted after an unexpected seven hours worth of driving.

"Hell of a traffic jam. Who would have thought that semi truck would have turned over and shut down the interstate?" Sam kicked her legs out of the car and stood, stretching. "I gotta pee like crazy." She hobbled rather quickly into the gas station and I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes. It wasn't going as planned. We had wasted a lot of time sitting on the interstate and now we had to get a hotel in Idaho instead of Montana.

Well, at least we didn't have anywhere we particularly had to be.

Sam came back with a large Styrofoam cup, sipping a slurpee idly. "You look tired."

I glared, not wanting to deal with blunt obviousness. "Duh." I ran my hands down my face. "I hate traffic. I can't believe you made me do this."

"No regrets, Freddork," Sam replied, giving a somewhat painful punch to my shoulder. "We're in Idaho!"

I stared at her flatly. "Sam, that's only one state over."

She shrugged. "I didn't pay attention in Geometry."

"…You mean Geography."

"I told you I didn't pay attention!"

"We were in traffic for three hours. God… We need to get a hotel. I don't want to drive anymore today."

Sam made a face, as if she was trying to understand me for a moment, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows.

"It's cool. I can drive to the hotel."

"Uh uh, no way."

"Fredward, I am a perfectly capable driver."

"Not if you were taught by your mom."

She opened her mouth to argue, then it quickly snapped shut in contemplation. "Good point…. You still haven't forgiven her for destroying locker 239, have you?"

I pouted. "Not only did I lose the best locker in the school, I also lost two hundred dollars, and I got detention for two months."

Sam smiled, fondly remembering. "Those were a fun two months. Wow, two is not your lucky number."

"You spent the majority of detention playing pranks on me."

"Ooh, remember that one where I-"

I held up a hand to silence her. Surprisingly it worked. "Not in the mood."

She put her hands on her hips, and my eyes trailed to them. Her belt looked like a seatbelt, and I wondered vaguely if she'd actually made it from one.

"You're cranky today," she said. "Fine. You drive." She put her hand on the top of my head, her nails scratching against my scalp. "Hey. Heeeey. Come on. You want to go to the hotel right? Focus."

"Alright, alright," I waved my hands, but she did get a smile out of me. "Hop in. I'm sure there's one down the road."

Sam slid into the passenger seat and drew her knees up, watching the scenery as we pulled out of the gas station and into the street. She had a soft smile on her face, and I could tell she was lost in her thoughts.

I decided not to disturb her. When her mind drifted, it drifted far.

Given we were in a rather small town that probably wasn't even a dot on a map, it took a bit longer to find a hotel than I expected. I finally dragged the vehicle into a tiny parking lot, lurching to a stop in front of a sign reading Blue House Bed and Breakfast. Which was exactly what it was.

The powder blue house rose in front of us as we dragged ourselves out of the car, laced with a soft white trim, almost like an oversized dollhouse. I knew that if Carly had been with us, she would have been thrilled to see it.

"…Cute… I guess," Sam said. "If you think things like this are cute."

"Carly would."

"…I know," Sam said softly.

We trudged forward to check for vacancies.

Inside, the place looked even more like a dollhouse. It was actually a bit disturbing how pristine and lacy everything was. Even Sam withered a little bit. She probably hadn't been around so much girly stuff since her last trip to Build-a-Bra.

"Wow," she muttered, though she was far from impressed.

"Hello!"

We both nearly jumped out of our skin as an old woman popped up from underneath the front desk, a wide smile on her wrinkled features.

"Sorry about that. Dropped my pen. Can I get a room for you two?"

"Uh… yeah…" I said slowly, eying her with paranoia.

"Newlyweds?"

"What?! NO!" We answered in unison.

"Oh, that's just lovely. Arnold, isn't that just lovely, these two newlyweds?"

"Eh?" An elderly man shuffled out of what looked like a kitchen, moving slower than I had ever seen a human being move. He craned his neck, curving his hand over his ear. "EH?"

"Newlyweds, dear! They're newlyweds! Isn't that sweet?"

"We're not—Oh, forget it," I sighed. "Can we have a room please?"

"Here you are, dearie! You two are gonna be on the second floor, first door to your right." She pinched my cheek and then went back to her work. "It's only ninety dollars a night. Breakfast is at seven."

I nodded, a little worriedly. I wasn't sure if I trusted the couple around a stove. Regardless, we gathered our luggage and made our way upstairs.

"That old lady was creepy."

"Yeah, no kidding. Lock the door. I don't want anybody knocking down the door and chopping us up with an axe or anything."

We had only brought up a couple of things, since we were only staying one night, and I laid my clothes on the dresser for the next day, right next to Sam's pile. She was locking the door when I neatly folded her clothing, despite the look she was giving me.

"Taking an opportunity to touch my underwear, Freddifer?" Her voice was warning me. I hadn't even thought about it, staring at the garments in my hands before jumping back and letting them fly to the dresser, as if they had scalded my hands.

"Ah!" I felt my face flush bright red. "I'm… sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Their panties, Fredula, nothing that dramatic. Haven't you ever folded your mom's underwear?"

I shuddered. "No!" She thought on it and she shuddered too. Still, I couldn't shut my mouth because I had the tendency to be quite a nub. "When did you start wearing girlie underwear anyway? You always used to go on and on about how boxers were more comfortable."

Sam's eyes were fiery, glaring me down with bright blue pin size pupils. "Are you really talking about my underwear?"

I floundered. "But you just said it wasn't that dramatic!"

She folded the lacy black scrap of fabric and shoved it between her shirt and her jeans, eyebrows knitted. "I just did, okay? Jeez. That's kinda personal don't you think? You can sleep on the floor."

She roughly tossed a pillow to the floor and plopped on the bed, facing the wall. I glared back, but I really only had the guts to do so with her back turned.

"You're fucking bi-polar, you know that?" I rolled my eyes and slumped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I didn't particularly have to go, but I was a little worried she'd attack me for the comment.

My phone vibrated in my pocket again, and I sighed, sitting on the side of the tub and pulling it out to look. You have 756 Unread Text Messages.

"Good Lord."

755 of them were from my mother.

hey, getting settled in nyc! sams fone is off. tell her were safe n 2 call me. xoxo carly

I stared at it, pangs of loneliness threatening to overwhelm me for a moment. After all, I really didn't get the chance to grieve like I wanted. No matter what we were planning, there was still the thought in the back of my mind that Carly had left for good and would be gone forever. I didn't even know what to text back. I couldn't possibly tell her what Sam and I were doing. What if I couldn't do it? What if I got cold feet and turned tail running? At the same time, it was hard for me to lie to her. So I said nothing. I turned my phone off, just until I could figure out what to do.

I ran my hands down my face. Even after all the difficulties I had with Sam Puckett over the years, my stomach still dreaded that this was going to be far more difficult than my brain wanted to think it was. Maybe this was all a big mistake. Maybe I would return home before even leaving Idaho, to my mother who would probably bolt my doors and windows shut and never let me leave ever again. I would have to eat asparagus every night and go back to taking tick baths, even though I had already insisted that I was much too old to have my mom assist in my bathing. God, she could even take me back to mother-son synchronized swimming in that awful speedo. The punishments could be dire.

I didn't know whether it tempted me to go back and save my ass or… keep moving and save my ass.

I missed Carly. I missed her more than anything in the world.

A soft knock perked my ears, and I stared at the door for a moment, wondering if I had actually heard it.

"What?" I asked, a bit snippy.

"That old lady came up here… she brought us cookies."

"Which you already ate, I assume."

A sigh. "I saved you one. Jeez, Fredward, I have self-control."

I opened the door, leaning against the frame. "I know. You choose to eat all of them without a second thought."

I still pushed past her and munched on the treat before she decided to eat it anyway. "I got a text from Carly," I said with a full mouth. "She's in New York."

"Really?!" Sam's voice changed drastically, it was lighter, almost desperate. "Is she okay? Where is she staying? Does she know about us coming?"

"Yes, I don't know, and no," I replied. "I… didn't know what to tell her. She wants to talk to you."

"Oh! My phone!" She barreled past me and over the bed to get her phone off the dresser, turning it on. It buzzed as soon as it lit up.

She made the move to text Carly, then hesitated, her energy dying, body slumping.

"What?" I asked, a bit more gently than before.

"I… don't know what to say to her…" Sam said softly. "I mean… I want to be supportive and happy for her… but… we're going to go get her." She turned to me, her eyes wide. "You don't think she's actually going to be happy there, do you?"

I shrugged. I honestly didn't know. "Sam, we can go ask Carly to come back, but we can't make her if she's happy there."

Sam turned away. "She can't be happy there. She just can't be."

"Well… make small talk. See what she says. Don't tell her we're coming."

Sam slowly started to text Carly, her legs folded under her, blonde hair hiding her face from my view. I sat on the other side of the bed, my back to her, just listening to the clicks of her phone, and feeling an odd separation from her.

She was basically enamored with the idea that she could talk to Carly. The rest of the world was shoved out the window when Carly was around. That was what best friends did, I supposed. And yet, as I sat there, I found myself somehow jealous of what they had. They were best friends. They were my two best friends. But it wasn't the same. I knew I would never had what Sam and Carly had, and it was almost frustrating in a way, because I had watched them fight, make up, goof off, scream, cry, live it up, and nearly die. But it wasn't the same. Because they did all those things together. I just watched. I was a witness to their lives, studying through the lens of a camera.

I suddenly felt like I had been missing out on something incredible.