IDOI

The chapter names were inspired by the way the show Scrubs labels their episodes. I thought it was a good idea because it's in first person POV.

For some ridiculous reason, I feel like I am invincible. I feel as though I have the power to defeat the mighty Samantha Puckett. And before I can stop myself, I tear her down. "No. See, Sam, that's all you can do. Bully. Bully and be mean to people. I've had enough of it. Everyone's had enough of it. We all know it's an act. Sooner or later everyone leaves you. Everyone deserts you. Jonah, Pete, your Dad. You keep bringing up that my mom is insane. Well, at least she cares about me. When was the last time your mom cooked you a nice warm dinner? Face it, Puckett. You're all alone in this world. So you build up walls. An act. You make yourself a tough girl. You bully and distance yourself because you don't want to feel pain. Because you know sooner or later, they're all going to leave. Which is why you've been downright horrible to me. Carly and I have already received our college acceptance letters. Where's yours? You're afraid of being left behind again. So first you separate from me. Then later, Carly. You know what, Sam? Congratulations. You've done it. You've successfully destroyed whatever connection we had. I want you out of my life. Out. Never talk to me again. I'm fed up with you and your torture. Leave."

I finish.

Her eyes are brimming with hurt. She trembles.

Then I see it. A tear. And as if time had slowed down, I see it leave the safety of its home. I see in travel down her paled cheek. I see it reach her jaw line. And I see it fall. I follow it. Down, down, down. Until it reaches the ground. It makes a barely audible splash.

And my heart breaks. I realize what I have done and I can't breathe. The guilt quickly fills my body. I gather what little feeling I have left to raise my head...just in time to see a fist heading toward my face. And before it makes contact,

I dodge it.

I grab her wrist. And I hear myself whisper.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I-I didn't mean it."

She glares at me, her eyes still shining with uncried tears. "I hate you."

She runs to the door and wrenches it open. "And I mean it."

I manage to grab the handle before the door slams shut. Bursting into the hallway, I see Sam's hair whip around the corner.

"Sam, wait!"

I run after her. I hear the sound of shoes against metal so I know she's taking the stairs. But as I reach the door to the stairwell, I trip. The ground rushes up to meet my face. My arm lashes out to break the fall. A pain shoots through my wrist but I ignore it and stand up. I clamber down the steps, taking two or three at a time. Her footsteps are non-existent so I know she's probably already out the door. When I reach the lobby, the front door is closing and Lewbert's screaming "No fleeing in the lobby." I'm halfway across the room before I feel a hand come down on my shoulder. I turn to see Lewbert with fire in his eyes. He shakes me roughly.

"WAKE UP, KID! I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE! WAKE UP!"

And I wake up. To see the businessman standing over me with fire in his eyes. He shakes my shoulder again.

"Wake up! I'm going to be late for my meeting!"

I scramble out of my seat, embarrassed.

"Sorry, sir."

He glares as he passes me. "You should be, punk."

I stare as he walks down the aisle and gets off the train. How am I a punk? I look down at my clothing. Jeans and a gray collared shirt. I check my reflection. My hair is a little ruffled but still quite neat. Maybe the definition of punk varies from person to person. No matter. At least I know that I'm not actually a punk.

My stomach growls as I step off the train. I don't feel hungry but I know that I need to keep my energy up in order to continue. So I head towards a McJaggers. As I get nearer, the smell of grilled meat emanates from the entrance causing my stomach to growl even louder. I sigh and wonder how much money it'll take to tame the wild beast.

I reach into my right jacket pocket for my wallet. My stomach clenches. It's not there. I chuckle to myself. It's probably in my left pocket. So I reach into my left pocket. Only to feel nothing except stray pieces of lint. A vise like grip encircles my chest squeezing the air out of my lungs. I rush over to a bench and desperately search through my backpack. Every second the grip grows tighter. I look through every section, every pocket, every nook and cranny of my backpack. Nothing. I start to suffocate. The sounds of the station fade away, almost as if a pillow had been pressed over my head. The image of the Butte train station flashes through my head. And I see myself running and colliding with another person. A man. Black hair, brown jacket. And I see him reach into my pocket and I see him take my wallet. I keep running. He laughs.

I grab my backpack and I run towards the sign that points to the restrooms, blindly pushing through groups of commuters. Bursting through the door, I dash to the sink. I quickly turn the knob and splash water on my face. The shock of the cold causes me to gasp and, suddenly, I can breathe again. I take four or five deep breaths. And somewhere in between those breaths, I begin to cry. My tears mingle with the water trickling down my face. The sounds of my sobs echo through the empty room. I hunch over the cold, ceramic sink. I can't go on. It's impossible. I don't have any money and I'm not even halfway there. I've failed.

I look up. The mirror shows a tear-streaked seventeen year old with red eyes and ashen skin. I feel ashamed. I thought I had changed. I thought that going on this journey would make me stronger. But I was wrong. I'm still the same, weak, naive Freddie I once was. The light flickers and now the mirror shows the thief. Laughing, pointing, holding my wallet in his dirty fingers. I feel angered. That someone would steal from a kid, but also that I would be so careless as to not pay attention in the first place. The light flickers. I see Carly with her furious expression telling me to get out. The light keeps flickering and I see my mother, I see Spencer, I see Martha, Donny, the businessman, everyone I had ever known. I see them all. The light flickers again. The mirror shows Sam, a tear sliding down her cheek. I watch as the tear falls. Down, down, down. It splashes into the sink. I jerk my head up to see my face with a single tear track down my cheek. Then I realize. Sam's tears are my tears. Her face is my face. She is me. All of them are. They're all me. And I'm all of them. They all made me who I am.

And I realize.

I'm the same, weak, naive Freddie. But I'm also Carly's intelligence, my mother's passion, Spencer's creativity, Martha's wisdom, Donny's kindness, even the businessman's sense of urgency. I am Gibby's confidence, Wendy's knowledge, Principal Franklin's generosity, Mrs. Puckett's freedom, Lewbert's hatred, and, dare I say it, Mrs. Briggs' anger. And most of all, I am Sam's strength. The strength she never knew she had.

So there is a way to complete this journey and save Sam. I'm not going to do it. We are going to do it.

I take a deep breath and I wash my face, each of my movements becoming faster and faster. I pick up my backpack and leave the restroom feeling better than I did when I went in.

We are getting to New York. No matter what.

If anyone is confused by the "strength she never knew she had" line, Sam pretended to have strength when in reality she thought she didn't. But Freddie thinks that she had strength in order to live like she did.

*Gets down on one knee and takes out ring*

"Will you review me?"