Chapter Seven

I tentatively sit on the bean bag opposite Sam's after Freddie is out of sight.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Sam comments, breaking what could have potentially been a much longer silence.

She doesn't usually show gratitude for being allowed to eat our food or take up one of my pillows. It's tough to tell if I should take it as sincere manners or a conversation initiator.

"You know you're always welcome here," I reply, stating what has been obvious, but unspoken until now.

"Is Spencer cooking dinner tonight?"

I look over and notice Sam's expression is hopeful. I frown and shake my head. Her face drops.

"He's on a date," I explain softly.

It feels awkward and uncomfortably mentioning Spencer's date because it locks in a forbidden subject between us. Not the part about Spencer going out, Sam has always kept track of his girlfriends better than I have. Just the date part is an unsettling topic.

"Maybe we could go ou…go somewhere and pick up something," Sam suggests, altering her words mid-sentence.

I know why she didn't like her original choice of words. They would be almost suggestive after recent events. She could have still said it. It's not like I'm going to get the wrong impression.

"Is that what you'd prefer to do? We could order pizza to be delivered instead."

I can't decide whether going out or staying in will turn out more awkward for us. If I let her have the overall choice then I'll feel like I have less blame for whatever happens. Now that I think of it, that seems kind of selfish. Haven't I initiated enough already though?

"How about Chinese? Their delivery boys are always more fun to mess with."

The familiar mischievous smirk that appears on her face causes me to roll my eyes habitually.

"Sure, but there isn't any blue water in the toilet anymore. If we get the same guy as last time he may be disappointed."

"I don't think that man would come back if he had a choice."

"Yeah, probably not. We're gonna have to go downstairs to order it. I left my cell beside the computer."

"We could have used my phone, except the battery died a while ago. I left it on all week and forgot about charging it because there haven't been any calls or texts to answer."

Sam's two main contacts are me and her mom. If she was at her house all week, her mom would have no need to call. And of course we weren't communicating. We'd all save tons of money on cell phone bills if we holed up as social outcasts. Sam doesn't need to be an outcast. She has me.

"Let's go then. I know your stomach doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Surprisingly, the food only takes twenty minutes to be delivered. When it arrives we are watching yesterday's episode of Seattle Beat that I had recorded to my TiVo. By the time to show is over Sam has finished her portion of the food. Like usual, I have taken my time and still have some noodles left. I silently hand the box over that is still one-fourth full. She smiles and hands it back.

"What? You aren't going to eat my leftovers?"

Sam shakes her head and I raise an eyebrow. She browses the channels on the television and pauses on a movie that I don't recognize. Her focus seems to be drawn into it as I continue eating, holding back the urge to dig farther into the matter of her surrender of food-hoarding habits.

"How long had you wanted to kiss me?" Sam asks suddenly.

"Wha…huh?" I reply, dumbfounded.

Was she really deep in thought this whole time while I believed she was concentrating on the TV?

"Was it a week? A month? A year…"

I'm scared to estimate, but she seems serious about getting an answer.

"Months."

"How many?"

"A few?"

When my answer comes out more as a question, she looks at me skeptically.

"You can't remember?"

"Sorry I didn't pencil in 'day I started thinking about my best friend inappropriately' on my calendar."

My sarcasm comes out too harsh and I'm afraid she'll leave again. But she doesn't move or show any sign of anger. Maybe Sam finally realizes that the control I have over my own frustration has become virtually non-existent. Is there a catalyst powerful enough to keep this friendship boat afloat?