EDIT: 2/1/2015 From this point onwards the plot is heavily altered to fit the events of the new version I worked out. So its, like, the rewrite of the rewrite. Whatever. At least the heavy action/plot starts sooner, right?

Anyways, read and review.

Chapter Eleven

Sam vs. The Couch

Throughout the movie marathon, as it were (John Hughes movies, but since Sam didn't know who he was, the clarification meant nothing to her), Sam was constantly asking questions.

Usually, it was about the plot of the movie, how it was made, why it was made, how did the cameras work; what was a movie, really? She didn't really consider if she was affecting the experience of the others watching the movie, since Sabina answered all her questions (albeit in a rather strained tone that Sam couldn't understand). Sometimes she got satisfying answers, but more likely than not Sabina said "I don't know," leaving something to be desired.

But not all were as patient as Sabina. When Sam asked what a Walkman was, it was Fallon who said: "Jeez, Sam, just watch the movie!"

"I am," Sam replied, getting defensive because Fallon's tone surprised her. Why did she sound so angry? "But I just don't understand why everything in the movie looks so weird –?"

"That's because it was made in the Eighties," Sabina replied, before Fallon could disregard that question as well. "All that technology and fashion was from thirty years ago."

"Oh." Sam jolted – that idea had never occurred to her. In fact, Sam was convinced that this movie must have been filmed in some alternate universe where the culture was similar but the technology less advanced. "That makes total sense now."

Fallon rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. Sam, not realizing she wasn't meant to hear that, just smiled at Fallon and said, "I know, right?"

The girl threw Sam a bewildered look but didn't say anything. Instead, they all returned to watching the movie, this time in silence as Sam ceased with the questions, having finally settled on an answer she was happy with.

They were half-way through the third rerun of Pretty in Pink when Sabina's parents finally returned home – a man and a woman dressed in sweater vests, flat caps and shorts; carrying caddies and pulling off white gloves from their hands. They were already in the midst of a cheerful conversation when they walked through the door, seemingly not noticing the mass of girls in their living room to the left.

The woman, who Sabina seemed to have gotten her looks from (Sam figured her to be Sabina's mother), stopped in the middle of her sentence to wave to them and say, "Afternoon, girls! Having fun?"

Everyone looked over their shoulders and said "Yes!" simultaneously before turning back around to the TV.

"Where's Alex?" the man asked. "In his –"

"Room." Sabina replied, not even looking around this time. Apparently, this was common enough an answer not to bear any significance. "As usual."

The man just nodded his head, closing his eyes as if not surprised. "Of course he is."

The couple dropped their stuff off beside the door, heading towards the kitchen and going back to their conversation, something about birdies and lowest scores. Neither of them seemed to notice Sam at first, until Sabina's mother realized she didn't recognize one of the girls on the seats.

"Oh, whose this?" She said, stopping and putting her hands on her hips. The woman had the same accent as her daughter. "Sabina, you haven't introduced us to your new friend."

Sabina jumped up out of her seat, looking scared for a couple seconds. But since her mother didn't look angry, just curious, she smiled and said, "Oh yeah, I guess I forgot. Ah ha, Mum, this is Sam Bartowski. Sam, my Mum."

"Hello, Sam," Mrs. Pleasure gave Sam a brilliant white-toothed smile, an exact copy of Sabina's. Her attention went back to her daughter when she asked, "How did you two meet?"

"At the museum," Sabina said.

"At the bus stop." Sam replied at the same time. The two girls exchanged looks, Sabina's nervous, Sam confused. Why would Sabina lie?

Mrs. Pleasure frowned, looking from one girl to the other, waiting for a definite answer. But the silence went on as Sabina was too busy trying to find something to say to salvage the situation to actually say anything, while Sam was absolutely oblivious. Finally, the woman said, "Um, all right. Well, anyways, dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. Can you all help set up the table?"

The movie was paused and everyone got up to gather more chairs, cups and utensils to place in the dining room. The table was fit for six people, but there were eight in total eating that night. Extra space was needed and the girls were going back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen to get dining materials and food.

Sam chose this point to ask, "Why did you lie?"

"What?" Sabina turned around, stopping in the doorway of the living room to look at Sam.

Fallon, who was right behind them, answered instead. "Because it would sound weird if she told the truth, that's why. Can you move, please?"

Sabina sidled out of the way and waited until the direct vicinity was clear before saying in a low tone. "It's just, well...she's kinda right. I don't want my Mum to get the wrong idea if she found out we met you sleeping on the bench."
Sam paused to think of what 'wrong idea' that could be, but she drew a blank. Without thinking, she started speaking in the same whisper as Sabina. "What do you mean? What's wrong with sleeping on a bench? I got good sleep."

"That's not –" Sabina blinked at Sam before shaking her head and brushing her hair aside. "That's not what I meant. It's just that, if she thinks that's where you usually sleep, um..."

"But that's not how I usually sleep," Sam said, thinking it was silly to assume such a thing about a person without really getting to know them. Who went around and judged people on the unconfirmed ideas they had of them?

"I-I know," Sabina raised placating hands. "But Mum doesn't know that, and first impressions mean a lot to people here. You say the wrong thing and sometimes the damage can't be repaired."

"Damage?" Sam frowned. She didn't understand how her sleeping on a bench could harm another person. "But I didn't hurt anyone!"
"That's not what I meant!" Sabina slapped her forehead.

Then Alex appeared, seemingly out of thin air (Sam had been distracted by the conversation) and leaning into the space between the two girls. "Hey. Why are we whispering?"

Sam opened her mouth to respond but Sabina just scowled at the intrusion and pushed Alex away. "Butt out. It's none of your business."

Sabina then walked out, flicking her hair over her shoulder so it would fly into Alex's face. He spluttered and swiped at it, looking a little disgruntled as Sabina disappeared around the corner. He turned to Sam and asked, "What's up with her?"

"She lied." Sam said, thinking that summed it up quite nicely. And with that, she too made her way back to the kitchen.

OoOoO

Dinner with the Pleasures' was quite unlike anything Sam had ever experienced before.

She was surprised that no one was asked to hunt for the meal. There were plenty of squirrels and birds outside fatter than any Sam had seen in the wilderness, that would've made for an excellent dinner – although she'd have to kill quite a few to feed eight people.

But no, that didn't happen. Apparently, there was such a thing called a supermarket and 'prepackaged meat' that made hunting redundant here. There was also processed wheat in the form of noodles and tomato innards in a can.

Sabina had to explain what it was her mother was making. Sam didn't know what pasta was, but it smelled a lot like Chuck's pepperoni-chicken. She earned a series of strange looks when she told the other girls this.

"What podunk little town never heard of pasta?" Marie said, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Or even spaghetti?"

"Oh, I didn't live in a town," Sam said matter-of-factly, shaking her head. "I stayed in a cabin on the mountain. Just me and my mom."

"Well, you had a TV, at least," Olivia stated, as though this were something to be guaranteed.

"No."

Olivia stared at her. "Internet, then?"

"What's the Internet?" Sam thought she had heard that word before. Something Chuck said to her the day she landed in California.

Fallon just let her head fall into her hand, muttering, "This explains a lot."

"All right, everyone, dinner's ready!" Mrs. Pleasure called from the dining room. Much like the dinner at the Bartowski apartment, there was a lot of talking involved – which Sam, once again, had difficulty getting into. There had to be at least three conversations going on at once: Olivia, Fallon, and Marie were all talking (almost at once) with Sabina, who was also talking with her parents, who had their own chat going. While Sam could answer the questions thrown her way, she couldn't really contribute because she was too busy trying to keep track of each person speaking. It was frustrating, to say the least, because it slowed down her response time. Thankfully, she had more energy than the other night and this was a little easier, but even then she was far too mentally occupied to do much more than watch everything and eat her food.

The only one who wasn't talking at all was Alex, who seemed to be only concerned with cleaning his plate. Sam liked that about him – a little less she had to worry about. She wanted to ask about the incident in the closet, but she remembered the warning Sabina gave her. Don't talk about it with Alex. Don't talk about it in public. Don't talk about it at all.

These rules were very confusing and went against Sam's urge to find all the answers. But Sabina (and everyone else) knew better than her, so who was Sam to break the rules? Her mother would be angry if she forgot protocol in any situation, and this was no different.

There was no doubt in Sam's mind that if she intentionally went against what was advised, she would make the Pleasures' very angry. Would they kick her out? Sam hoped not, but she was not going to test her luck to find out.

At least the spaghetti was good. Sam had never tasted so many flavors at once. The parmesan cheese, as recommended by Mrs. Pleasure, made it even better. Sam decided she liked cheese. It wasn't exactly a well-stocked commodity in her little cabin. Her mother rarely got food that was manufactured, even animal products. Most was hunted or farmed, in an area that was not touched by another human hand.

The sun had set by the time the dinner was over. Sabina helped her mother put away dishes while Mr. Pleasure entertained the guests with various golfing tales. Alex had left early, leaving an empty plate behind before going upstairs. He had spoken not a single word the entire meal. Mrs. Pleasure watched him go with a hand over her mouth.

She said something under her breath, something Sam only heard because she was paying attention: "Oh, that boy...what am I going to do?"

Sam thought this was a strange thing to say, particularly when the woman wasn't talking to anyone in particular. She wanted to say something, perhaps to ask what Mrs. Pleasure meant, but she was distracted by a sudden burst of laughter at the other end of the table. The four other girls were sharing in a funny story and Sam immediately lost her train of thought and focused on them instead.

Dinner ended with quiet fanfare. Sam helped clean the table when everyone was done, while Sabina helped her mother clean the dishes before the adults decided to retire to their rooms and let the girls proceed with their 'sleepover' and change into pajamas.

Sam didn't know what that meant. Sabina explained that it's just when friends stay the night at someone else's house. She and the trio did this every week, rotating houses each time to keep things interesting. This weekend, it was Sabina's turn as host. And as custom of most sleepovers, everyone was supposed to sleep in the living room, even Sabina, who had her own bed.

(This part had Sam confused, but she figured that it would only be fair for Sabina to be with them instead of by herself in her own room).

The couch was much more comfortable than a bus stop bench. Olivia, Marie, and Fallon were apparently professional sleepover artists, because they brought their own sleeping bags, pillows, and pajamas. Sam had to borrow an old pair from Sabina.

The pajamas were a little small on Sam, considering she was several inches taller than Sabina. But she liked the pattern of the pants consisting of playful kittens with tiny balls of yarn in various colors. It made Sam want to have a purple kitten of her own, to cuddle with. In the back of her mind, she wondered what kind of breed that cat would be.

They continued watching movies after dinner, eating a variety of sweet and salty foods, like ice creams and potato chips. Marie called it junk food – the better it tasted, the more calories and fat it had. Then there was a long stretch where everyone shared in critiquing their own bodies.

"My thighs are too big," Olivia complained.

"I wish I had a flat stomach," Marie sighed.

"I have uggo man hands," Fallon wrinkled her nose, sticking her hands out with fingers splayed. "My nails have a weird shape to them."

"Jeez, guys, you're making me so depressed," Sabina shook her head, seeming tired of their dissatisfaction. She got up, saying, "I'm going to get more Oreos."

"What about you, Sam?" Marie asked as Sabina walked away.

"What about me?" Sam asked back.

"Isn't there something you don't like about yourself?" Marie frowned. She pointed to herself. "Like my hair is this boring blond color, so I die it black. What would you change about yourself?"

"Um," Sam said. She had to think about it, studying her feet as she considered her appearance. But Sam found nothing wrong, so she looked back up at the girls eagerly awaiting her answer and chirped, "Nope!"

She smiled at the girls, glad to find that she had no problems with herself. But apparently this was not the answer the girls wanted to hear. They exchanged dark looks, not as pleased to hear this as Sam was, and looked back to her. Fallon was the first to speak.

"Yeah, right, liar!" she said and before Sam could defend her honesty, Fallon continued with an accusing pointed finger, "No one's that happy with themselves. You're just making fun of us!"

Sam opened her mouth but Olivia spoke next. She didn't seem as angry as Fallon, but still looked unhappy with Sam's answer. Sounding entirely calm, she said, "Yeah, especially someone like you."
"Someone like me?" Sam didn't understand what Olivia said. Who was she like? Was it bad? It didn't sound like a compliment. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, you know," Olivia shrugged, twirling a lock of red hair between her fingers. She motioned up and down towards Sam, referencing her whole body. Her light tone was inconsistent with the words she spoke. "I find it hard to believe you're happy with the state your hair is in."

"My hair?" a hand went to Sam's head. Her first thought was that something was stuck in it, like a leaf or a piece of food (it'd happened before). "What's wrong with my hair?"

Olivia just raised her eyebrows, looking skeptical. "Well, there's this invention called a hairbrush, ever heard of it?"

Sam scowled. Of course she knew what a hairbrush was – why was Olivia questioning her knowledge of such things? "Yes, I do, but how –"

"Well, clearly you don't," Marie interrupted with a snort, tossing her head back. She stuck a chip into her mouth and spoke around it, "And when's the last time you took a shower? You smell like my dog."

"And your nails," Fallon wrinkled her nose. When she mentioned them, Sam pulled her hand from her hair to look at them. Yet again, she found nothing wrong. Still, Fallon had something to say about it. "How many layers of dirt do you have under there? You dig holes in Montana?"

Sam couldn't respond. What these girls were saying made her feel bad and that seemed opposite of the idea of friendship, or Sam's very rudimentary understanding of it. She thought these girls had finally accepted her after Sabina told them to, but clearly they had something else in mind. She didn't know why it was so hard to say anything against Olivia (Sam figured her to be the leader of the trio) and her coordinated attacks.

Perhaps it was because whatever she said, each girl had her own counterpoint. Perhaps it was their willingness to act that way, completely unrepentant. Perhaps it was that Sam was entirely outnumbered and outmatched – it came down to the fact that her lack of skill with verbal communication meant that a battle through dialogue would be an exercise in defeat.

The only way Sam knew how to fight was with her fists, but this was not the occasion to use them. Every time Sam tried to defend herself, the trio shot her down.

"I don't dig holes with my hands," Sam said, wondering who on earth would be crazy enough to do that. "I'd use a shovel first."

"That's not helping," Marie said. "Do you even know what soap is?"

"Of course I do, I just forget sometimes to use it..." Sam stopped when she realized that this only proved their point. And the girls continued, relentless.

"Are you on medication?" Olivia asked. When Sam shook her head, Olivia made a face. "Well, shouldn't you be?"

"I don't have medication," Sam replied, entirely confused one what she would need to be medicated on. She wasn't injured, she wasn't sick. Her mother would know what Sam needed or not to survive. If medication was not necessary, then Sam didn't take it. "Why?"

"Your parents let you run around off your meds?" Fallon gaped, then shook her head and scoffed. "Well, that explains a lot."

Sabina returned (finally) with a bowl of ice cream and a bowl of cookies. Her arrival immediately silenced everyone. She looked around, apparently sensing something was off here. "...hey, guys. What're you gabbing about?"

"Oh, Sam was saying how much she didn't like her hair," Olivia piped with a cheerful smile, as though their entire conversation were nothing more than good fun. "But it's nothing a little conditioner and a hairbrush can't fix."

"Yeah, she doesn't like how grungy she looks," Marie added, her voice far too sweet. "We're just saying getting better clothes will help."

"You know, constructive criticism," Fallon finished, turning and said, "Right, Sam?"

Four pairs of eyes watched Sam as she struggled to find the appropriate answer. Say the wrong thing and Sam knew the trio would tear her apart. Call her a liar, certainly, as that seemed to be an instinctual response, as well as further insults. Sam knew that these were not her friends, but she could not make herself saying anything against them, not in front of Sabina who certainly considered them so. Sam liked Sabina, who seemed to be the one genuinely kind person in the room – and even though she may have only known Sabina for a day, Sam didn't want to forsake their friendship by causing problems with the trio.

So Sam just strained a smile and said, "Yeah, right."

"Okay," Sabina tilted her head and smiled, pleased that everything was going smoothly. Sam felt something inside her wilt. It wasn't big lie by any means, but it still kind of hurt. But if Sabina was happy, Sam could live with that.

Olivia, Marie, and Fallon left her alone after that. Sam considered that a victory, if a minor one, and went back to the Rubix cube she had abandoned some time ago. Her mind wasn't really into it, half distracted by the giggles and whispers the others were sharing during the movie (which was a diversion in itself), so Sam often found herself messing up and ruining whatever progress she had already made with getting the colors by themselves.

About forty minutes in, Sam gave up and decided for an early turn in. She didn't particularly care that the girls were still talking, that the movie was still playing and going entirely unnoticed. Rolling on her side and putting her back to the others, Sam tucked the blanket over her shoulder and closed her eyes.

She opened them again perhaps two hours later. The living room was dark, the TV off and lights out. The windows outside showed a black sky with sleeping buildings lonely streets. The street lights casted a faint orange light into the room, long shadows spreading across the floor. It had to be nearing eleven o' clock now.

Sam glanced over her shoulder to see that Sabina had fallen asleep as well in her sleeping bag on the floor, the soft rise and fall of the cover saying she couldn't hear the trio still whispering.

"...So gross..." Marie said. "Not caring about hygiene at all."

"Who the hell doesn't take showers?" Sam recognized Fallon's hiss. "I bet she's not even from America."

"I'm more concerned about the fact that she's not taking anything," That was Olivia. "When she clearly should be on, like, Adderall or something. I mean, like, what if she just snaps and attacks us? I can't believe she's even allowed in public like that."

"What a spaz." Marie said. "I bet she'll end up in an asylum one day."

"Yeah, and keep her heavily sedated so she won't run off anywhere," Fallon added. "Or ask any more stupid questions."

The girls sniggered. Sam blinked her eyes, trying to get rid of the burning sensation. What was wrong with her? Her mother would chastise her for letting these girls' words get to her like that. She just wished they'd be quiet so she'd go back to sleep.

Sam adjusted her blanket, inadvertently silencing the girls who may or may not have realized they had an eavesdropper. But Sam didn't say anything and the sounds of rustling cloth filled the room as the trio finally settled in for the night. Sam closed her eyes, clutching the Rubix cube to her chest.

The second time Sam opened her eyes, she heard a noise.

It wasn't Olivia or the others talking again. No, it was a soft noise, softer than a whisper, the sound something makes when it wanted to be very quiet.

At first Sam thought it was one of the girls getting up, but she heard the noise again, somewhere above her. Rolling on her back, Sam opened her eyes and took in as much as she could without getting up. Something felt wrong here. The air was colder, having dropped five degrees. Did someone open a window? It wasn't that warm to begin with.

Her internal clock told her it was well past midnight. Who could possibly be up at this hour (not including Sam, who had been woken up by their noise)? Glancing over at the girls, Sam counted four and decided that it could either be two things: the noise was coming from the other residents in the house going to the bathroom.

Or someone had broken in.