Miranda Carrington walked slowly under the midnight moon, her delicate pale hands in the pockets of her button up jacket. The February night was cruel but it was the coldness that made this the best time to walk. The air was clean and fresh, moisture cooling but still uninviting to anyone or anything of danger. Neither people nor animals ventured out in this weather. She gazed up at the thousands of stars above her head, thinking about Sam then. He had literally crashed into her on a Monday and had her spellbound ever since. He wasn't in art that afternoon.
Miranda loved puzzles and Sam was the most difficult one yet. Although it was daunting, she never backed down from a challenge. Sam was her friend, so why couldn't they know about one another? Hell, he knew all about her. From just a few days of painting, she had spilled her life story. She blushed to herself, looking back on it. It was really pathetic. Was she so starved for someone to listen to her that she would just blurt out everything? Thank God Sam was such a good guy because Miranda sincerely wondered if just anyone spent time with her for just one hour each school day, if they too would know her inside and out because her big mouth. Sam was always respectable and quiet though, but strong. He would always listen to her, no matter how involved her stories became. Foolish it may be, she really felt like he cared, which was something more appreciated than he would ever know.
Her Ugg boots crunched the asphalt, the sound echoing in the night. She smiled to herself a little, thinking of her older sister Brooke. She would kill her if she knew where she was. Luckily, she was at work. Brooke had been on edge for several days more than usual and they hadn't heard from their dad in a solid week. Truck driving is probably one of the most boring professions. Why wouldn't he call? Something wasn't off just at home, but at school. Yesterday there had been a murder in the abandoned north restroom. At first Miranda thought it was a rumor until she saw the stretcher carry away Molly Singer… The whole recent situation was very strange.
She stared forward, focusing toward the end of the road thirty miles ahead. Suddenly, she heard footsteps step into time with hers. Miranda furrowed her brow but kept walking, not looking back. The footsteps didn't turn the other way, slow or speed up. They where stalking her. Miranda listened for several more minutes before jumping to any conclusions. Maybe they are taking the same route as me, she told herself. Suddenly, they quickened their pace. She panicked a bit but maintained her composure, still walking forward but slipping her house key through her fingers, hand curled in a fist. They cat called and whistled, their comments making her squirm.
"Hey baby! Why don't you slow down a bit and give us a slow-mo of that sweet ass of yours!" One called, laughing.
"Yeah honey. I bet you would enjoy us!"
"She looks like a screamer!"
Miranda growled, having heard enough. She whipped around, scowling. "Screw off!"
They laughed, punching one another in a 'get-a-load-of-that' manner like they were Great Danes and she was the impudent but amusing lapdog. "OOoooh I'm so scared!" The boys mocked, circling her. Miranda threw her body into a punch but the taller boy caught her first easily, chuckling.
"Well look here! She was gonna was shank us!." He gripped his large fingers over hers, crushing her delicate fist. She grimaced, her bones creaking under his pressure.
"Looks like we need to teach her some manners." Another boy stepped up closer to her, slipping his arm around her waist, picking her up off the ground and using one free hand to grope up her chest. "Rude bitch. You don't punch someone with your keys the moment you meet them."
Miranda struggled against his iron grip, trying to kick him and release his vile hand. "LET ME GO!!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to attract some attention so perhaps help might hear her cries.
The tall boy wound up his fist about to give Miranda a black eye. She was making a scene and surely they would be caught. He nodded to his friend who was holding Miranda, gesturing to the side to take her into the cluster of tress until a mysterious figure approached. The dark figure chucked the tall boy in the back of the head, knocking him out. The figure stood before Miranda and the other boy, face hidden in the darkness. Suddenly, he flipped out a switch blade, holding it to the boy's throat. Miranda gasped, body tensed and afraid. "Please.. Help me!"
A familiar voice growled, "Let her go right now." The boy gulped, the cool blade making his skin itch. He let Miranda drop into the dirt, breathing heavy and shaking. The boy dashed away, leaving his unconscious friend. Miranda heaved, staring down at her hands, clutching the dirt. The figure sighed in disapproval, flipping his switchblade back into itself and returning it back in his pocket. He knelt down, putting a comforting hand on Miranda's back. She flinched away, standing up and moving away from him. "Who are you?!" Miranda strained her eyes to see her rescuer.
The figure moved backwards, letting a street light illuminate his features. Sam huffed, swallowing before greeting Miranda, "Hey."
"Sam?!"
Sam smiled, "Let's get going."
Miranda beamed, jogging excitedly over to him. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him warmly. "Thank you so much Sam. Thank you so much.."
He beamed, pleasantly surprised from her embrace. He secretly shifted his head so he could breathe in the smell of her hair. "Uh, you're welcome."
Miranda pulled away, eyes twinkling from the streetlight. Sam smiled back, humble. She began to walk a bit, following the path she took before being assaulted. Sam joined her, putting his hands in his pockets like her. She smiled over at him, her blonde hair falling in her face. "Oh my gosh.. Where did you learn to do that?!"
Sam internally grimaced, hating having to lie to her. "Uh, my Dad."
"Wow. Go Dad! That was amazing.." She mused.
"I guess," Sam murmured. "Didn't you tell me your Dad and sister knew some self defense?"
"Yeah," she agreed. "But I conveniently never learned any. I assure you though; I will seek some classes after this ordeal. That was pretty lucky of you to show up."
"I wish I could've gotten to you sooner," Sam admitted, kicking himself. He stopped abruptly, looking her in the eyes. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
She smiled a little, "I'm fine, Sam. I'm still a bit shaken up but they didn't hurt me."
Sam nodded, searching her face and her body just to make sure she wasn't just putting on bravado. Miranda rolled her eyes, noticing this. "Sam- I'm really okay. I'm no Chuck Norris but I'm not broken in pieces like a doll."
Sam smirked a bit, taking a step to start walking again. He didn't reply, just making a mental connection of the irony. He wondered if Dean felt like this when he got a scratch or a kid at school would try to play rough. But Miranda was different. She wasn't his sister. She was a really good friend. "Uh, you wouldn't mind me asking you why you were outside at this hour in the first place?"
Miranda laughed a little, "This is gonna sound really stupid but I just had to get out. The night sorts out my mind, helps me think."
Sam shook his head, "That's not stupid at all."
Miranda shrugged, "My sister would completely loose her marbles if she knew anything about this. Dad too."
He furrowed his brow, "Where's your mom?"
"She passed away when I was six months old. Dad says she had a heart attack."
"Ohh.." Sam muttered, "I'm sorry." He clenched his jaw in pain, thinking of his own mother.
"It's okay. I honestly don't know what I'm missing but yeah, that still doesn't make growing up without her any easier."
Sam closed his eyes, I can relate..
Miranda caught his expression of anguish and frowned, "..Are you okay Sam?"
He nodded, clearing his throat, trying to play it off. "Oh yeah. I just lost my mom too. I know where you're coming from."
"Well- at least we have our older siblings and fathers. Sounds to me like our families are mirrored. You have an older brother, I have an older sister. My Dad is mostly absent- well, I don't know about yours."
Sam snorted a little, "No, you're right. Mine is too."
"I'm sorry to hear that.. Mine is just gone on business. Truck driver, ya know?"
Sam nodded again, "Yeah. Business on my side too."
"Really? What does he do?"
"It's hard to explain. He's just gone a lot." Sam skipped around the truth, hoping she didn't press further.
Miranda licked her lips, looking ahead. Boldly, she replied, "I can see through you, you know."
Sam gawked a bit, stopping in his tracks. "Excuse me?"
She stopped as well. "Sam- it's okay. But I want you to know that I know. You've got some things you want to keep to yourself- fine, but just don't feed me a line and reel it back in. If you're going to tell me, tell me. Otherwise, don't even mention it."
Sam thought about her words, opening his mouth to reply before she cut him off.
"- You're a really nice guy and I want to be honest with you. Because that's what friends do."
He nodded, "Thank you Miranda. I want to tell you but I can't. I really wish I could. I hope you'll understand." He smiled sadly, his brown-hazel eyes searching hers.
"Of course.." Miranda slipped her hand into his comfortingly. "But if you find that you want to talk, you know where to find me."
Sam nodded, leaving his hand in hers, his heart beating rapidly. Miranda stopped walking after a few minutes. "Well, this is it," she gestured behind her to a quaint but old house.
He let her hand go, brushing a blonde curl and placing it behind her ear gently. Miranda blushed, blue eyes twinkling. She wanted to kiss him then but stopped herself, leaning into hug him instead. Sam leaned into hug her as well but took matters into his own hands, taking a chance and kissing her on the cheek. Miranda beamed, her heart fluttering out of her chest and up her throat it seemed. Sam blushed as well, moving back. "Goodnight." He turned away, walking back down the street and into the night, heading back to the motel.
