San Francisco

After a stressful day working, this was exactly what Sam needed and wanted.

She was lounging on the back porch of Chris and Ashley's fairytale cottage, with a glass of pinot grigio in one hand and the soft coat of Storm under her other hand. Her sandal-clad feet were propped up on a glass table, and beyond them a creamsicle-orange sunset gleamed. It almost looked like the sky was a canvas, and the sun had been painted on with strokes of bold orange and cotton candy pink. In short, it was breathtaking.

"Ahh. This is so relaxing," Sam murmured, taking a sip of her drink and swirling it around in the glass like some kind of wine snob.

Ashley hummed in agreement from her spot in the chair next to Sam. "I know, right? The moment I first saw this patio, I knew we had to have this place."

Sam shifted, snuggling deeper into the cushions of her chair. She twisted her upper body so she could set down her glass for a moment. "So… you don't miss Portland, like, at all? I thought you loved your job at the bookstore there."

All Ashley offered at first was a nonchalant shrug. She swallowed a small mouthful of wine and grinned. "I dunno. I did like working at Powell's, but I also really missed living with Chris. And now that they're publishing my book after all, it seemed like a no-brainer. Since I've got a deal with this well-known publishing company, they've really advertised my book a ton, so I have several pre-orders, and I've already found a job here at a bookstore a few towns over."

"Wow." Sam withdrew a long breath and stared wistfully at the dipping sun. Its dying light cast an orange glow that licked at their faces like flames. "And Chris is happy here too?"

"As far as I can tell, he is. Besides, he's a pretty bad liar, so I'd be able to tell if he wasn't."

"Even though he had to leave behind an apartment that was a few blocks away from his new job?" Sam chuckled. "He was complaining to me yesterday that he always sweats so much while driving there, he feels like he's melting."

Ashley groaned. "He is such a weirdo. He claims that keeping the AC in the car off or on the lowest setting will conserve its power for longer."

The door to the house was ajar, and suddenly Chris poked his head through it, shooting Sam and Ashley a faux annoyed glare. "It's the truth, babe. You should just admit I'm right and move on already. And anyway, in the wise words of a very popular Disney character, 'some people are worth melting for!' You should take that as a compliment!" He quickly disappeared back inside before either girl could argue.

Ashley wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Frozen. I hated that movie."

A smile drew itself onto Sam's lips. "Remember when Hannah made the whole group go see that the day it came out?"

Her friend buried her face in her hands. "There is nothing in this entire world more annoying than 'Let It Go'—"

From somewhere in the house, Chris could barely be heard belting out verses like an opera singer. "Can't hold it back anymore…!"

"Ughhhh!" Ashley shrieked. "Make it stop, my ears are bleeding…"

The next morning, it was time for Sam to fly north to Seattle. It was a very early flight, and it was situations like this one that made her grateful she was a morning person.

Both nights she stayed at Chris and Ashley's place, she was the first one up. She would let Storm out, make coffee, and check on her pet sitter back home. This pet sitter was a gracious neighbor who had sworn not to disclose the illegal presence of the kitten to their landlord. Three days in, her promise was still intact— so far, so good.

Sam still had no clue what she was going to do with that adorable, tuxedo-wearing kitten. He was still nameless, which Sam felt bad about. Her neighbor had dubbed him "Tux" in the meantime in honor of his black and white fur suit, but the nickname didn't really sit well with Sam.

Deep down she knew she really should surrender the kitten to the no-kill shelter. She couldn't burden Mike and Jess or Chris and Ashley with another pet. Sam did recall Emily mentioning she was a fan of cats, but Matt was deathly allergic to them. Hannah and Beth had never expressed much interest in furry animals, since they had grown up with fish as their only pets. And Josh… well, Sam wasn't sure about him.

If she were perfectly honest, the selfish side of her just wanted to keep the kitten for herself, even if it made her homeless in the end. That cat was just too cute to resist.

Ashley was the next one awake on Sam's last morning there. She found her friend staring out the window over the kitchen sink, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee.

"Morning," she greeted her, grinning as she spotted another cup of coffee already prepared, as well as a third one currently being poured out of the Keurig for Chris. Sam never failed to think about others.

"Hey." Sam's voice was still gravelly from sleep, so she stole another long sip of the bittersweet liquid. "I just wanted to say… thank you so much for having me. Spending time with you and Chris was far better than sitting alone in a hotel room."

"It was our pleasure," Ashley assured her. "Besides, you've definitely returned the favor by giving us this lovely little girl here!"

Sam tilted her chin down, smiling as Ashley kneeled down to massage Storm behind her ears. "She's a pretty great dog," Sam agreed.

To the dismay of Sam and Ashley, Chris had somehow found and purchased the soundtrack to Frozen 2 (which had been even worse than the original) and tortured them with it during the entire drive to the airport. It was all in good spirit, however, and they spent the majority of the time poking fun at the childish lyrics.

As Chris pulled over to the drop-off curb at the airport, Ashley shoved a book into Sam's hands. "Here, for you, ya know, if you want to read it… I guess."

Sam glanced down at the glossy cover and read "Borne of Darkness." She repeated the title out loud in awe, then grinned gratefully at the redhead. "Thanks, hon. I'm sure I'll love it."

Unfortunately for Sam, by the time she got through security and glanced up at the board showing departures, she discovered that her flight was delayed by two hours. "Son of a bitch," she whispered. She had to resist the urge to stamp her foot like a temper tantrum-prone toddler.

She scanned the crowded walkway, hesitated, then dove back into the stampede. She was like a minnow getting pulled into a stream swollen with trout. She felt small.

Sam had always despised bustling places like this. They were suffocating, and so artificial. Screens advertising useless products flashed around her. Gift shops overflowing with cheaply-made San Francisco-themed merchandise caught her eye. Sleepy, irritable travelers guzzled their coffee like how a Hummer guzzles gasoline. Crying babies flailed their fists and whiny children pulled at shirt sleeves and yanked pant legs. Before that night on the mountain, this would have been Sam's idea of "horror." Now, however, she had wizened up. She knew what real horror was. Airports— well, they were just a minor nuisance. An annoying little wrinkle in the cloth of Sam's life.

On the other hand, Sam adored the great outdoors. She used to be so thrilled to go up on Blackwood Mountain, a place where the highest form of technology, excluding the lodge, was the cable car. Sam had been going up to the Washingtons' lodge with her friends for seven years when that night happened. The mountain had been a place of joy, a place where everyone always smiled. Unfortunately, as the years went by, Mr. and Mrs. Washington stopped coming up with them and trusted their children to invite more friends on their own. What a grave mistake.

The general rule at the lodge was to never go outside alone at night. That was an easy feat to accomplish considering everyone was usually too exhausted by nightfall, or— in later years— too wasted to dare go stumbling around in the woods.

Sam remembered the very first winter she was invited up to the lodge. She had known Hannah for about a year at that point, and her awesome new best friend had just invited her to her family's lodge in Canada for a long weekend.

"Come on, Mom!" Twelve-year-old Sam was practically on her hands and knees begging.

"Samantha, please." Sandra Giddings's voice was dripping warning like how raw meat dripped blood. She was seated at the kitchen table, bent over a stack of official-looking papers.

Sam knew what those papers meant. Divorce. The word still haunted her, nibbled and ate away at her heart. No more Christmases with all four members of their family. No more family hikes, no more late nights playing board games, or Dance Dance Revolution matches that often got so heated, Sam and her brother would bet candy or their allowance money over a potential winner. It was all over.

But Sam wasn't having it right then. She pushed these troubling thoughts away and refused to look at her mother's pen gliding over the bottom of a paper, leaving her signature in cold blue ink. "Moooom…! You met Hannah before, you've met the Washingtons. You said they were nice people! And you know Chris Hartley, that really smart kid in my grade? He's friends with Hannah's brother and he went up last year and he told me that—"

Right then, her brother's voice piped up from the next room where he was playing some violent video game. "Oh, GOD! Just say yes and make her shut up."

Sam clamped her hands into fists, resisting the urge to go into the living room and smack her brother's face. She and Scott used to be so close, too, but now they were on good terms as much as their parents were. Sam had always been jealous of Hannah having a sister.

Their mother didn't appear to have much patience left. "Fine! Whatever. Go to Canada with your friend. I just need to be alone right now, okay? I need to focus. Will you allow me that, Samantha?"

Sam had raced out of the room cheering happily, and she "accidentally" hit the off button on the TV as she ran by it. Scott's furious yells faded into the background as Sam ran up to her room and slammed the door shut, opening her laptop so she could tell Hannah the good news.

The year after that, Sam had taken Hannah on a hike through her family's forest. They walked farther than any of the Washingtons had ever been, and it was amazing. Sam felt so in tune with nature. But that was also the year where she stumbled upon Bob Washington hunting down a deer. Hannah and Beth had crouched behind a bush, but Sam stood straight up, peering in fascination at the fearsome rifle her friends' father was toting around.

Mr. Washington was the kind of man who had two very clear-cut sides to him. He could be a famous movie director known for his critically-acclaimed horror and action/adventure films; he was the man who prowled across red carpets with the sleek confidence and gait of a proud, suit-wearing panther. Yet he could also be a wild mountaineer with dirt smeared on his cheeks and patchy, well-worn camouflaged clothes covering his body. Upon first glance, he would most definitely not be labeled as a millionaire.

His movie director side was the one Josh connected more with. His son was obsessed with gore and special effects, and he soaked up any tidbit of information his father gave up like a sponge. This was the main reason why, upon her initial introduction to Josh, Sam was somewhat freaked out by his extreme exuberance.

So with the fact that Bob was currently dressed as a true, full-blooded hunter right then, it made sense that Josh and Chris were back in the lodge, playing a virtual shooting game and pumping their bodies full of Cheetos and Hi-C.

The girls had decided to wander around outside, with Sam insisting they go on another long hike. Beth had only joined them because she was sick of seeing badly computer-animated zombie guts exploding on the screen in the lodge's theater room.

They were debating a hike when they came upon the twins' father, who was stalking through the woods he had purchased, blessedly alone. He had always been someone who seemed to prefer isolation.

"Is that gun real—" Sam muttered, but she was interrupted by an insistent grunt from Hannah, who was pulling on the edge of her friend's jacket so she'd crouch out of Bob's view.

Sam barely complied, and still stood a little higher than the sisters. Bob had his eyes narrowed, squinting through his rarely-used glasses. His balding head was covered by a camouflage cap. Then, out of nowhere, he lifted the rifle to shoulder height. The frosty forest was silent and still. Ice-lined twigs froze, squirrels huddled in their burrows. The distant call of a large bird dwindled to nothing.

The hunter fired. Two horrified hazel eyes followed the bullet as it embedded itself in the head of a stag. The animal, once proud and tall just seconds ago, now crumpled to the ground. Its heavy body crunched against the snow. One piece of its wide antlers snapped off.

"Ooh," Beth murmured. "It was an old one, if its antler just broke like that."

Tears were already filling Sam's eyes. She turned toward Hannah and let out a wail. Words failed her.

Hannah blinked. "Sam! Sam, it's okay… that deer was old and weak. It would be too feeble to survive much longer naturally—"

They returned to the lodge, and Bob arrived a half hour later, bragging about his kill to his wife, who only offered occasional hums of admiration.

Sam sobbed behind her hands, crouched in one of the seats of the theater. Josh and Chris had beaten their video game hours before and had now moved on to a shitty horror flick. Josh used this opportunity to point out to his friend all the mistakes the director made, and how his dad would have improved on each scene.

When Melinda announced dinner, Sam tried to compose herself. Last night's spaghetti had been delicious. Tonight might be plain old cheese pizza, or maybe nice, crisp Caesar salads.

Nope. One of the two hours it had taken to prepare dinner was spent butchering the deer. "You do like venison, right, sweetheart?" Melinda said to Sam as the kids entered the dining room. "I asked your mother and she said you'd probably be fine with it." Ah, the ignorance of parents.

Beth winced at Sam's expression. Hannah nudged her friend's arm. "It just tastes kinda gamey. It's good, I promise…"

Sam glanced sullenly at the cuts of meat on the platter in the center of the table. Melinda was pouring milk into five glasses for each of the kids.

She felt sick all over again. She didn't want milk. She didn't want meat. She'd watched that deer get murdered. She didn't care if it was old, or if its lean, juicy meat would be the best thing she'd ever tasted. She couldn't even bring herself to look at it for too long.

"Um, I'm not hungry," Sam announced abruptly. She turned away from the table, jogging through the great room and upstairs to the room she and Hannah shared.

She had pulled out her shitty flip phone— it was 2009, after all, and it was the best device thirteen-year-old Sam's mother would let her have— and used up all of her stored data to research vegetarianism and veganism. The words on the tiny screen were blurred by her tears, but they spoke so clearly to her. Her thumb, the nail of which was part of a messy manicure painted on by Hannah a few days previously, repeatedly hit the tiny buttons on the tiny keyboard. She wanted to know more. She wanted all the info she could get.

In the end, Sam decided to go vegan. She quit eating all animal products cold turkey. Her friends and family quietly accepted her decision. All it really meant was that she had to help out with grocery shopping and pack her own lunch for school every day. In her opinion, it was a small price to pay if it meant giving animals more freedom to live.

Now, all these years later, Sam was sitting in the middle of a crowded airport restaurant. She was tired of staring at her phone's screen, and was glad to remember she had Ashley's book in her bag.

She gazed at the attractive cover for some time, admiring its use of dark colors to give the scene it displayed a more ominous feel. Sam prepared herself to delve into the world of real horror. If Ashley could handle writing this, then surely I can handle reading it.

The minutes trickled by, like icy drops falling off the tip of an icicle. Sam became lost in the book, lost in the terrifying and strange world Ashley had dreamed up.

It was quite obvious what Ashley had gotten her inspiration from— that went without saying. But a lot of her real life experiences shined through in her novel. It took place at a ski lodge, and involved several high school-age people.

It was different, however, in that none of the teens knew each other well. They all went to the same high school called East Lake High, but they were not friends. It was merely a class trip, and they'd all been selected to go on it.

One of the student's father owned the ski resort on the fictional mountain. It turned out that the owner's son, Clayton, was a savage killer who had stabbed his girlfriend to death and was out for more blood. The school trip was a trap, and many people fell for it.

Even after Sam boarded the plane, she still had the book open and in her hands. If it were a paperback, it would be dog-eared by now. At the place Sam was at right then, one of the main characters, Chrissie, had just gone down into a trapdoor in the dead girlfriend's bedroom in the creepy lodge.

"I could already feel the cold dread rising up in me, like an ice cube falling down my back, as I crept down the dusty staircase. I could only pray I'd made the right decision by coming down here.

"Then, out of nowhere, the trap door slammed shut behind me, stirring up clots of dust that blinded me. I was sent reeling the rest of the way down.

"The place I ended up in was bizarre, to say the least. Several tools lined the walls— tools that looked like they belonged in a butcher shop. Meat hooks, hack saws, knives…

"Actually, scratch butcher shop. These things belonged in a psycho's workshop!

"I was oddly fascinated by these tools. Their icy metal glinted in the shadowy corners, beckoning me closer. I was just about to inspect them further when I heard a noise to my right.

"'Shit!' I cried, panic engulfing me. I felt like I was drowning in an ocean of fear. If there was a psycho down here with me, then was no doubt he would scalp me with one of those spine-chilling weapons.

"I dove under a nearby table, repeatedly swallowing so that my nervous whimpers couldn't be heard. My heart thumped against my ribs, like a bird wanting to be let out of its cage. I was just about to piss myself out of fear when the psycho entered the room, his heavy footsteps I had started to hear a minute ago now inches away from my nose.

"As it turned out, my hiding place, though convenient, was not at all decent. Emotionless black eyes glared at me through a mask. They were dark, beady marbles of fury, and they wanted blood.

"The man lumbered over to me, grabbing one of his screwed-up tools off the wall. He was weighed down by gear, but this didn't make him any less quick. I barely had time to react as he bent down, groping with his hook towards me.

"I knew I had to think fast, and I'm proud to say I was able to. I fastened my fingers around the legs of a chair and shoved it at him. Everything seemed to play out in slow motion as the chair made contact with the psycho's chest. He fell back onto his grimy ass, grunting a muffled objection behind his mask—"

Sam was cut off by a smirking face in her peripheral vision.

Her gaze flicked upward briefly, and found that the man sitting beside her was staring intently at her face. Sam cleared her throat awkwardly. "Uh, can I help you?"

"You sure can, dear. How about you help me by giving me your number, hm?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, clearly quite impressed with himself.

Sam groaned. Of all the times and places to get hit on, it happens to me here, on a plane, where I'm stuck next to this slimeball for the next two hours. "Thanks, but… no thanks," she sighed, digging her earbuds out of her carryon and plugging them into her phone. A few seconds later, the captivating melody of Mozart filled her head and provided the perfect background tune to Ashley's story.

And, luckily, the man didn't persist.

Chris had given Sam the address of the Target Josh worked at. Now here she sat in her rental car in the parking lot of the big box store, unsure how to make her next move. All she had left to do was go in there and surprise Josh. He'd told her the days he usually worked when it came up in conversation a few months ago, but what if he had the day off today? What if his shift just ended or hadn't even begun yet?

"Ugh, I'm such an idiot," Sam muttered, slapping her hand to her forehead. She leaned down against the steering wheel for a moment, preparing herself. Deep breaths, Sam. You've got this. It's not like you've never been through worse things.

She stepped out of the car, shutting the door softly behind her and taking her steps carefully as if she were in a hostage situation.

The car chirped as she walked away— locked. Flecks of rain were already dotting the space on the windshield that had been cleared by the wipers. Sam didn't particularly mind the typical Seattle drizzle. The raindrops fell lightly, kissing her skin with the delicate touch of a butterfly. She could barely feel it.

Sam entered the store, and red displays filled her vision. The tempting salty odor of popcorn wafted over from the snack bar. Eager shoppers pushed around carts and sifted through the sale section at the front of the store.

Sam took a left towards the restrooms, scanning over the checkout lanes. Her eyes scoured every person wearing a red shirt and nametag.

Then, at last, she found him. He was grinning at a customer as he scanned her things, expertly dropping them into the paper bags while simultaneously scanning her credit card for her. His hair was smooth, recently trimmed, and a healthy blush colored his cheeks. This job didn't seem as bad as he made it out to be. Either that, or he knew what was coming.

It took a few minutes of her standing there for him to notice. By then, he'd already checked out two additional customers. He was repeatedly checking the time on the computer, so Sam instinctively checked the time on her phone. It was almost five.

And so it went on. Every time his eyes slid toward the computer screen, Sam checked her phone. After what felt like an eternity, 4:59 changed to 5:00 and Josh immediately hit a button to turn off the light in his aisle.

He turned to exit the station, and Sam lifted her hand in a shaky wave.

His eyes lit up the second he saw her. He looked like a kid in a candy store, and without an ounce of hesitation he ran over to Sam like she was the huge display of colorful lollipops.

Sam loved how blissfully oblivious he could be. He paid no attention to the numerous stares he received from running several yards across the store. Because he didn't care about the stares, she found herself not giving a shit either. It was wonderful to not have a care in the world. It was a freeing feeling.

He pulled back from the hug he'd buried her in and laughed. "Hey girl, are you Elmer's glue? Because I think you'd bond well with me!"

Sam's jaw fell open slightly, and the moth in her stomach fluttered. Come on, come on, think of something. "Hey boy, are you a steak on the grill? Because you are sizzlin' hot!"

"Good one," he praised. "Very good. You're getting better at shitty pickup lines." He paused, then suddenly became recharged with a fresh burst of energy. "Come on, my shift just ended, let's get the hell out of here," he told her breathlessly. His hand slipped into hers— a perfect fit— and together they sprinted full-speed out of the store and over the rain-slicked parking lot. As they ran, he ripped his nametag off his collared red shirt and pocketed it.

They came to a halt at an elegant little sedan. The glittering raindrops on its black paint gave off the appearance of a starry night sky.

Josh pulled out his keys, unlocked it, and opened the passenger door for her.

Sam noticed the Audi logo on the steering wheel and snorted. "This is not your car!" she exclaimed, hesitating to get inside.

Josh arched an eyebrow at her. "Did you forget so soon who I am?" he teased.

"Oh, right," Sam admitted, throwing in a hint of faked disappointment to her tone. "You're a Washington, only one of the richest families in the entire universe. You work at Target and drive a fancy ass vehicle."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"Depends," she countered, unable to prevent the smirk spreading on her face. He had moved to the other side of the car, and for a moment they stood gazing at each other as the rain began to soak into their scalps. Sam eyed his plump, kissable lips that were arranged into a sly smile.

And his eyes. It was crazy how easily she got lost in his eyes. Right now they were a darker green, like a pine forest. Sam could hear the rustle of the pine needles around her, and smell the unmistakable scent of pine sap that mingled in the fresh air. It was this vision that stemmed from her love of hiking in the wilderness. And all of this came from his gorgeous green eyes.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to come back and get my rental car later," Sam gave in as she lowered herself into the plush leather seat. Josh followed suit.

He hit the push button, and the engine roared to life. The screen on the dashboard also lit up, displaying the title of a Twenty One Pilots song.

As the beginning notes of the song filled the car, Sam spared Josh a glance out of the corner of her eye. His lips were barely moving, humming to the tune and mouthing the lyrics.

"Heard you say… not today…"

"This is a good song," Sam commented.

Josh shot her a scowl. "You screwed up my beat, Sammy. Now I gotta start it over again."

She rolled her eyes. "Josh—"

But sure enough, he hit a button and the song began again. Sam stayed silent the entire time, focusing on the wet world outside her window. Cars blurred into smears of shiny reds, blues, and silvers. The black color of people's umbrellas blended with their black coats to form super tall mutant people.

Josh was leaning to the right and poking her arm. "You waste all this time tryin' to get to me."

Sam stuck out her tongue at him.

"But you are out of my mind…"

As the final chorus reverberated through the car, Sam sang along as well, having finally learned the lyrics.

She didn't notice Josh stop singing so he could listen to her. The song faded away, and he turned off the audio. "Sammy. Your. Voice. Is. Amazing."

"What?" She blinked at him, taken aback. "Oh, stop it. I'm not…"

When she trailed off, he finished her sentence. "… that good? Well, you are that good, so I dunno what you're talking about."

Luckily, Josh dropped the subject. It was at this time that it occurred to Sam that she had no clue where they were headed. "Josh, where are you taking me?"

"Out of the city," he answered simply. "I'm sure you're sick of being around so many other people, right? The claustrophobia...?"

"Definitely!" Excitement spilled into Sam's veins like some kind of Red Bull. She was energized.

The Audi turned out of the outskirts of the city and onto a more open road surrounded by knee-high grass rather than clusters of buildings. The rain began to fall harder, hitting the windshield with tiny thunks. Josh frowned at the droplets peppering the windows. "Damn." He turned to her. "Do you mind getting a little wet?"

He was pulling into a circle of gravel where a few other cars were parked. "I guess I don't have much choice," Sam admitted.

They climbed out of the car, and at last Sam noticed the view. They had been working their way up a mountain, and were now several hundred feet up. A low brick wall divided the small parking lot from the steep fall beyond.

"It's beautiful," Sam whispered. Together, she and Josh approached the wall, hesitated, and then climbed on top of it. Josh appeared almost dizzy when he glanced below their dangling legs, but Sam loved the thrill of being so far above the city.

Silence settled between them, an invisible cat snoozing in between their hands. After a few minutes of quietly admiring the view, Josh shoved the cat off the ledge and pulled Sam's hand into his. She nestled her numb fingers into the warm palm of his hand, grateful for the gesture.

"So… Chris told me you were coming."

Sam groaned. "Of course he would! That dumbass." She laughed. "You two just can't keep secrets from each other, can you?"

He failed to meet her twinkling gaze, so she tilted her face away from him, limiting her line of sight to the landscape, which was tinted blue-gray due to the rain clouds above.

"Nah," Josh finally responded. The word was sharp and brittle, like a frost-coated twig snapping under someone's foot. "It's true. Cochise and I tell each other everything. He was the first one I told about… well, my illness. He was the one I'd go and complain to when my sisters were being unbearable or when life in general was being unbearable."

Sam nodded wordlessly. Hannah was to her as Chris was to Josh.

"He also knows every detail of my first kiss. He even knows how I lost my virginity."

As Josh offered this information, his eyes gleamed. He angled his head so he could better look at Sam. It was clear he was hoping she'd ask for him to share, and she gladly took the bait.

"Oh?" Sam mused. "Tell me more."

It was like they were in high school again, where there were no limits. If somebody did something even vaguely dirty or risqué, they better bet their ass their entire circle of friends would know about it within a day. Everyone constantly boasted about their latest sexual endeavor. People would try to top the previous action, and the next person would try to outdo that. It was a big ridiculous contest that several of Sam's friends got sucked into, including Mike, Jess, Emily, and Josh. Sam, meanwhile, just tried to tune it all out.

"I was sixteen," Josh began wistfully. He reached up his free hand to his chin and stroked an imaginary beard. "It was some shitty party at some shitty person's house, and I was standing in the corner drinking shitty booze."

"Sounds fun," Sam remarked.

"Shush, shush, I'm not finished. So there I was, in the corner with my red solo cup of liquid fire, and Jeanie Simmonds saunters up to me with the most drunken, sluttiest smile on her face."

Sam felt bile rise in her throat. She knew where this was going. "Jeanie Simmonds? Oh, man."

"I know, right? I really scored." Josh grimaced. "So she asks me 'are you drunk' and I say, 'I dunno, I think so.' Now, keep in mind that during this she's calling me 'Drake' for some reason. She should've known my name considering I'd known her since second or third grade, but whatever. So she's like" — Josh began to very poorly mimic a valley girl voice— "'Draaake, let's go do it up in the guest bedroom!'"

Sam was doubled over in laughter, and nearly forgot that she was leaning off the edge of a steep mountainside. Josh wrapped an arm over her to keep her steady, then continued his story.

"So I said, 'Uh, sure, okay, I guess…?' and you know me, I'm like this fumbling mess, but I was thinking 'holy shit now I'll finally understand what those football guys are talking about in gym class!' So we went upstairs and we had sex and it was pretty horrible."

"Really? It was really that bad?"

"It was, I swear! I guess it makes sense, considering we were two drunk, sweaty virgins fucking in the bedroom of some dude's house. And the worst part is, the door didn't lock, so some other couple who were already half-naked walked in on us." Josh shook his head vigorously, his eyes squinting as if he were trying to erase the memory from his mind.

It took a while for Sam to fully recover from her giggle fit. She hid her mouth behind freezing fingers and swung her legs, trying to control herself. "That was… a lovely story," she told him when she'd finally regained her maturity. "Goddamn."

"Aw, really?" Josh blew her a kiss. "Thank you."

And for just a few seconds, silence returned, slinking in and driving a wedge between them. It wasn't necessarily awkward, though it became slightly uncomfortable because Sam had a feeling of what was coming next.

"So… are you gonna tell me?" Josh murmured.

Sam gritted her teeth. The rain was picking up even more now, and the drops fell heavy like little pebbles on their skin. She decided to play dumb. "Tell you what?"

"How you… how you lost your V-card."

She shrugged.

"If you're not comfortable—"

"No, you're right. It's only fair if I do. Just…" This time she made sure she had captured his gaze. "Promise not to judge me. At least not out loud."

"I'll try my best," he promised, giving her an army salute.

Sam pressed her fingers against the wet stone, massaging the rough surface. "I was in college. Eighteen, almost nineteen." The words faltered on her tongue, but there was no reaction from him yet. "It was… between the first February 2nd and the second one. He was the first guy I ever said yes to, my first legitimate boyfriend."

Josh's nod at the edge of her vision prompted her to continue.

"So… basically I lost my virginity to a guy who didn't even care about me. It was meaningless." She swallowed back tears, though it wouldn't have even mattered if she cried because her face was soaked from the rain anyway. "It wasn't even his first time, either. Probably like his thirtieth."

Josh didn't seem to know what to say. He kept opening his mouth and closing it, like a clueless fish. Essentially, they had just told the same story— losing their virginity to someone meaningless— but he'd injected humor into his. Sam had somehow ruined the pleasant mood by making hers sound like a case of sexual harassment.

In reality, she had wanted it, and was very excited at the time. After rejecting guy after guy in high school, she'd finally seemed to have found someone decent who she wouldn't mind going all the way with. Theo was a cute guy, and he was a little bit older. Theo was a new person in her life, a fresh face. Theo wasn't her best friend's brother. Theo wasn't struggling with a misdiagnosed mental illness.

They were in his dorm, eating takeout, when he pounced on her. "We should have sex," he announced mid-chew. She accepted fervently. Her nerves were fueled by anticipation.

It hurt. Bad. Sam forced herself not to say anything because she wanted him, at least, to be pleased from the experience. Aside from the brief pain, she spent the entire time busy worrying about possible mishaps: what if the condom breaks? What if his roommate walks in on them?

This disappointing experience was further ruined when she discovered that Theo's current purpose in life was not to achieve an education, but rather to fuck every 'hot girl' who attended the school. Sam was just another one of his pawns, and she felt disgusted with herself for weeks afterward for being so foolish.

Theo wasn't her first kiss, though. Nobody, not even Hannah, knew who the first guy Sam had ever kissed was.

"I- I'm sorry," Josh mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

It was a late night at the lodge, the winter of 2011. She was fifteen.

"Why apologize? It's not your fault," she replied. Abruptly, Josh threw a comforting arm over her shoulders. Pellets of rain chilled their skin, soaked their clothes. Her hair was a sodden mess.

He was passed out in his bedroom. Alcohol swam in his veins, thicker than the blood.

The weight of his arm on her shoulders almost made her sleepy, though she knew she wasn't tired. Rather, she was soothed. She leaned closer to him, pressing her cheek against his broad shoulder. His flannel shirt was wet but warm.

Everyone else was passed out or in bed. She, being as young as she was, had refused to drink anything strong. Her senses were crystal clear.

The sky darkened, its blue-gray haze deepening into an inky black that matched the paint on his car. Her legs slowed in their swinging. Her feet were weightless, suspended in the air.

She wrapped her fingers around the knob of his bedroom door. Ever so slowly, it creaked open, and there he was, sprawled on top of the plaid covers. His ugly Christmas sweater— which was out of place considering Christmas was two months ago— rose and fell with each breath he took.

She could feel him moving, breathing. His heart danced nervously, inches away from her own. He inclined his head.

She was so curious. So, so painfully curious. Now was her chance.

His lips were practically grazing hers when she spoke. "I would've told you, Josh."

Her sock-covered feet glided effortlessly across the wooden floor with the gracefulness of an ice skater.

"Told me what?" His eyes were daggers, sharp and pricking her face. Concern was etched onto his face: worry lines between his eyebrows, a questioning frown.

She stood over him. He was completely asleep. He would never know.

"That I was in love with you." She stiffened as she said this, and his arm fell like a deadweight, tracing her spine.

She bent down, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. His lips were there, almost pursed, waiting.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, clasped his hands in his lap. "I've loved you for so long, Sam." His shoulders shook with grim laughter. "We would constantly pester Chris and Ashley to make a move. Why didn't we?"

She knew he wouldn't kiss her back, obviously. Yet touching his frozen lips still disappointed her. She wanted more. She wanted him to know, to understand. There was no way he could possibly like her, too.

She trembled. The rain was no longer pleasant. It was beating down on them, vicious, like needles jabbing at her scalp. Drops settled on her eyelashes, blending with the frustrated tears. "I don't know. Why the hell would I know?"

And so she backed out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her. Her first kiss was a secret for only her to know. She had been dying to know what he tasted like— and now that she knew, she wished he would've been awake to taste her.

"You were so good at hiding your feelings, Sam. I had no idea." Air rushed out from between his parted lips, but the following inhale was ragged, his lungs struggling in the precipitation.

"I would've said something, maybe…" She couldn't possibly structure this in a way that didn't make her sound like a terrible person. "If you weren't… if you weren't wrestling with your mind all the time. You were so good at hiding your struggles, too. At first."

His front teeth were digging into his lip. She was staring intently at him, seeking any kind of eye contact, but he refused it. "Sam, what if… what if you admitted how you felt? Maybe I never would've played that prank, huh? Never would've tortured Chris and Ash and my sister? Never would've put you through hell?"

Would've, would've, would've.

"Don't place the blame on me!" she seethed. "I was so— I was so angry at you, Joshua. You were never really there. Never one hundred percent available. It was so hard for me!"

"I'm not blaming you. I just wish things had been different!" His voice had raised several decibels so he could be heard over the patter of the rain.

God, what was it with them and rainstorms?

She couldn't take it anymore. She was suddenly freezing and soaked to the bone and upset. Her nerves were frayed. So she tilted her chin up and collided her lips with his. Immediately he returned the gesture. His hands cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She rested her hands on either side of his jawline.

She could feel him pushing harder against her, and she submitted to his efforts, allowing him to flatten her against the wall. The slippery stone poked into her back, but he was too delicious for to take much notice. People were jogging up from the nearby trail to their cars, covering their heads with whatever they could find.

And then he stopped. Pulled back a bit. "Let's go back to my place," he breathed into her mouth.

"Yeah." She tried to catch her breath. "Let's do that."


Oops, this got really long. What is it with Sam chapters that make me go nuts? I guess it makes sense considering she's my favorite character, and Jossam is my favorite ship.

Also, could you tell I loosely based the excerpt from Ashley's book on the PS3 prototype? If you haven't watched that gameplay yet, you should! It's really interesting to see what Until Dawn could've been.

But anywaaaay. HAPPY NEW YEAR! 2017! I can't believe Until Dawn will be 2 years old this August. BUT that is still a long way off.

Thank you so much for the reviews! Remember, feel free to PM me with any questions. I will be happy to answer anything and everything, because I know how confusing my writing can get sometimes.

Love you guys, and see you next time.