Mr. Henning points to the board, declaring his love for 'Green Week' which was still three months away, but had pre planned their lesson so that it would become a quarter project worth a semester grade. Carly looked to Sam, her chin resting in her hand as she sighed, picking at the ends of her hair and weaving them between her fingers and was at least satisfied that Sam had made it to class after skipping to go to Mrs. MacSweeney's the past three days. As she mindlessly played with her ends, ignoring the lecture, Carly could barely contain her excitement, ready to burst at any moment but knowing that Sam may very well shut down her excitement with one simple reply: No. But Carly was willing to try and waited until they were dismissed for work time, Mr. Henning allowing the last few minutes of class to be used for productive research.
"Sam? We need to talk; But please know that you're not in trouble." Carly called, assuring her as she was waiting for Sam to look up.
Sam gathered her books, turning to face Carly before sliding them over, pawning them off to Carly to house in her locker for the rest of the semester even though she had just received them from her previous two classes. She didn't make eye contact but Carly could tell from the way her eyes darted Carly's, she didn't want to make any conversation.
"If this is about still talking to anyone such as Dr. Meyer, I'm not interested." She replied bluntly, her voice dry and firm, still never making eye contact as she traces her finger along the edge of the lab table.
"Sam, is there something you're specifically hiding from me that you don't want me to know?" Carly prys, scooting her stool closer to Sam.
"If I am hiding something I wouldn't tell you that i'm hiding something because then you'd want to know what it is. No matter how I answer this, you're gonna think i'm hiding something from you so….no!"
Carly blew air from her cheeks, contemplating whether or not she should really push Sam today or even lately. As she became more and more distant, Carly found that Sam really wasn't showing up to many classes, not that she had often attended most of them before, but when she started missing out on foods class and even parenting (Which she showed unusual interest in) Carly began scouting ways to help Sam by getting to know what was going on deep inside.
"There's nothing you want to tell me? Because lately i've been noticing behavior that is not 'typical' Sam Puckett behavior."
"And what's that?" She replied with amusement.
"You've been sheltering yourself from otherwise normal situations that you would put yourself into, like when someone in the hallway calls you a name, or Gibby even, you don't beat them up. It's like you're afraid."
"Am not." She sulks, brushing it off quietly before picking her book up and dropping it on the floor to create a cringe-worthy distraction.
Sam had not liked attention to be drawn to her lately, but when it came to Carly interrogating her on her behavior she felt was otherwise normal for herself, she created the sly technique to slide out of class before anyone saw where the thud had come from, and Sam's small figure squeezing between the semi-closed door and wooden frame.
She brushes past the girls in the bathroom, scaring the young freshman who had heard enough about her to leave the room as she slammed the stall door and threw her head back with frustration, pressing her palms to her face as hot tears dripped down her red cheeks. She paced around the small square footage and spun in circles, the old, crusted yellow tiles on the walls blurring as her eyes filled and she dropped to her knees, feeling as if she had hit rock bottom, the lowest point Mrs. MacSweeney had mentioned many times about reaching, and she instantly knew she hit it, and that maybe if she came to terms to talk about it, it would slowly get better.
Sam scoots her back against the door, ringing a section of her hair around her index finger, looking at the ends before raising her hand to her head, first scratching around the top, then using her index and middle finger to pluck the one that she had deemed 'Perfectly Imperfect'. It was at first one, then two, and before she knew it she had a fist full of hair glaring back at her, unsure on how she had managed to collect such a thick layer, swearing she could knit her mom a sweater from what she had collected from that one small session.
"Sammy, I feel like I'm staring at one of my wigs! Why would you do something so disgusting?" Her mother reprimanded her one morning when she had walked into the living room, her mother sitting with a ball of hair beside her that had tangled between her toes just from shuffling across the carpet.
She had known from that day that she couldn't live with her mother or her cheap yet completely emotionally piercing insults. So she had slid the biggest duffle bag she could find, smelling of 'who-knows-what' her last boyfriend had in there, and dumped almost an entire dresser drawer and a half into it, sitting on it in order for her to zip it all the way shut.
So later that night she would steal whatever money she could scrounge up from the couch, beneath her mom's bed, and even in the old tin jar in the medicine cabinet, to use for a bus ticket just for a quick three minute ride to Carly's before the system shut down for the night at ten. She had known that it would look suspicious if she decided to walk, carrying a duffle bag which looked strangely identical to a body bag (which she had just made a connection that the bag she was carrying her mom had received was from the police officer she dated for two hours), and once arriving, she would remove the spare key and make a quiet entrance into the Shay's apartment.
Sam suddenly was startled from the loud creaking coming from the bathroom stall doors, someone deliberately pushing them open, probably a senior trying to startle the young freshman with the never ending stale jokes. But as soon as she heard the voice, she knew she should give up.
"Sam? Why aren't you in class?" Carly called though she already knew the obvious answer.
Sam's body shook as she rocked back and forth, feeling her back slide across the stall door and brushing the plastic, the fabric on her tank top creating a whooshing like sound.
"Sam, I can smell that you're in here; You're the only one I know who'd eat jambalaya they prepared in their locker in the bathroom." Carly notes with amusement.
She pushes the yellow stall door farthest from the entrance, finding Sam with tears illuminating her blue eyes in the dim stall light. Carly sits next to Sam, first giving her a side hug, then firmly looking her in the eyes.
"Sam, I know you're hurting and you need to take your time to heal, but you also can't let this cloud up your whole life."
"Carls, i'm…"
"No, nuh-uh. I'm gonna be tough on your for a second Sam, and don't think i'm being bitter or don't understand or care. I'm telling this to you straight because I want the best for you."
Sam narrows her eyes, glancing at the ugly yellow tile floor, the spaces between each individual square grimy and brown, perfectly reflecting the true old age of that 1950's interior.
"You need to kick it into gear young lady," She begins to reprimand Sam, Sam looking appalled at her as her voice became firm like a mother's, "I want what's best for you and you're never gonna get there if you sit and think on all that's wrong and letting that control you and your focus on school work."
"Carls, it's hard." She whimpers.
"And I know that. But that's why we have psychologists and counselors to help you, as well as myself. And there's only so much I can do for you before we realize that a therapist stepping in may be helpful. Sam, I'll help you to the best I can, be a best friend to talk to and to listen and support you, but I can't offer the help Dr. Meyer can."
"I'm not seeing him again." She grumbles under her breath.
"That's up to you to seek help; I'm only suggesting it but I can't make you go. But as your best friend, I truly think it's best and I want to see you being 'you' again."
Sam raises her eyebrows at Carly, glaring her up and down and Carly laughs, realizing that Sam's life wasn't perfect but Sam just being herself would be. Carly hugs Sam sideways again and Sam rests her head on Carly's shoulder, her breathing shallow.
"So, you know Pete?"
"The boy I had a crush on and went completely girly for just for you to be wrong all along?" Sam answers sarcastically, "Nope, remind me again of him." She smirked.
"A little birdy told me that he wants to ask you to prom!" She exclaims, anticipating Sam to do the Sam.
Sam blankly stares at Carly before shaking her head in disbelief, calmly reaching into her backpack and grabbing an empty water bottle and Carly only could guess what Sam would do next. Her reaction was how she pictured the girl had recently became an introverted extrovert, her behavior now an unexpected and spur of the moment surprise.
Sam dips her water bottle in the toilet, calmly shaking off the droplets and handing it to her stunned friend before lifting a single backpack strap over her shoulder and pulling the stall door open, leaving Carly confused and appalled simultaneously.
-XXX-
The gym was large despite feeling stretched to its limits with students, and Sam could swear every square inch of it was full. It felt loud and overwhelming, a student on every side of her being, squished between Carly and some boy on her left, wiping his grimy hands across his nose as he sniffles, Sam wishing that she could move even a centimeter to the left without crowding Carly next to her.
Though it was loud, the noise still felt distant as Sam studied the students around her, not realizing how many people there really was until they all piled in the gym. She felt panic bubble up into her, feeling as if her heart dropped into her stomach and her breathing became quick and deep, feeling tears sting behind her eyes.
"Too many people…" Sam thought as she crossed her arms over her stomach and began to rock, feeling slightly dizzy from the overwhelming amount of people surrounding her.
As a dam with tension of the rushing waters building behind it would eventually break under pressure, Sam would feel flooded in relief that crying would give her, burying her head in her lap a comfort to keep others from seeing what she felt was her weak side and alternate persona. She suddenly felt a hand on her back, warm and comforting at the same time her heart skipped and began to beat faster, realizing she was still in a gym full of people, despite feeling lost and distant just seconds before.
"Sam, i'm not quite sure if you're overwhelmed or anxious, but we could talk about it." She offers quietly in Sam's ear, rubbing her back and waiting for her to lift her face out of her lap.
"You can't help." She mumbles, her face sore from crying and her attitude bitter from the frustration of not having control over the situation and tears.
Carly rests her left hand on Sam's back, and her right over the top of Sam's hand, buried beneath her face. Sam lifts her head and sniffles, wiping her sleeve across her face. She slowly rises from the wooden bleaches leaving her butt sore and back stiff, and Carly helps her through the three rows below her, slyly sneaking through the back exit behind the bleachers to Sam's relief.
"Carly, I don't know why…" She begins in between sobs, struggling to regain her confidence.
"And you don't need a reason, which is the funny thing with anxiety. It's like a wolf in sheep's clothing. You can't always predict what might set it off, but you're able to recognize it in disguise. It preys on you and you can't let it get into the "hen house"."
Sam leans against the gray brick wall behind her, sliding her back down it and sitting on her bottom, pulling her knees to her chest and Carly sits beside her.
"You don't have to be ashamed of your emotions. And never be hesitant to ask for help. We care about you and want what's best." Carly consoles her, one arm around her shoulder and the other patting her knee.
Freddie walks out of the gym, looking with concern to her friends, and sits beside Sam, slipping his hand in her and interlocking their fingers, feeling Sam's shoulders relax and she laid her head on him. Carly looked with amusement to the two friends, like cat and dog, peacefully sitting there, content in silence as her breathing begins to slow.
"I'm proud of you Samantha," Freddie smiles without looking to her.
She looks to him in confusion, mumbling 'why', in disbelief while simultaneously wondering why he hadn't chosen to give up on her yet.
"You're one tough egg to crack. Everyday you come to school despite what your night was like and not knowing how your day will go. You choose to come to school instead of letting anxiety chose for you."
