Chapter 29:

We Should Talk About It.

(Sam's POV)

"Sam, get up. You have to get ready for school." I could hear Carly bustling around, packing up her books and tidying up the room. "Seriously, come on. You might be okay with being late, but I have a perfect attendance record to keep. I love you, but I'm not about to ruin that just because you can't heave yourself out of bed."

"I'm not going," I muttered, my voice muffled.

"Come on, Sam," Carly sighed, trying to pull off the blankets that I had tucked up over my head. I reached up and clenched them tighter. She tugged as hard as she could, but even weakened as I was, I was still substantially stronger than her: the blankets didn't budge.

"Come on. It'll be fine," she promised, and I felt the bed shift as she plopped down on the mattress near my feet.

"I don't care," I mumbled into the pillow. "Not going."

"But-" she began.

"No."

"Why not?" Her tone was sharper than usual- she meant business.

I sighed heavily and flipped over onto my back, slowly edging the covers down a few inches so I could look her in the face. Her expression was strange, floating somewhere between extremely pissed-off and worried. I felt my heart soften a bit; Carly was about as threatening as a baby tiger.

"I just don't want to," I said quietly, casting my eyes back down and rolling the hem of the blanket in my hands.

Carly sighed again, heavier this time, and shifted over a few inches so she was perched right beside my hip. Reaching a hand out, she tugged the blanket out of my worrying fingers before I tore a hole in it, and when she spoke again, her voice was much gentler. "But why, Sam? Tell me. Please," she pleaded. "Just talk to me. I just want to understand."

I'd been staring at the covers tucked around my waist, memorizing the purple chevron pattern that was woven through them, trying to avoid looking at her for as long as possible. Her voice was so heavy with genuine emotion that it almost made my heart hurt, and when I finally did meet her eyes, I could see that they were gleaming with unshed tears. Dammit. Carly had a lot of heart. More than I remembered most of the time. She'd always caught a lot of crap for her daffodility, for being so girly and fragile that she seemed like she could snap in a good gust of wind. It was no secret to me that a lot of our classmates had no idea why we were even friends, why I'd take the time for her or why she'd bother with someone like me, but I never expected them to understand. What they didn't know was that we balanced each other out; I got her to loosen up, take risks, laugh, be spontaneous, and in return she'd always been there for me, keeping me grounded, listening, caring, smothering me with the kind of compassion that I'd never gotten from my own family. Lately, I'd been so wrapped up in trying to push everything away and clinging to Freddie that I'd almost forgotten her. Sometimes it was hard for me to remember or even believe that being best friends was a two-way street, and that I meant just as much to her as she did to me. What had happened with my dad might have seemed like it was just my problem, but I was starting to realize that it had a ripple effect on everyone around me, including Carly. She'd been through a lot, too; I was sure the doctors had told her that I'd been lucky to make it. She could have lost me, and now here she was, squeezing my hand, chocolate eyes thick with the threat of crying, just trying to get me to talk to her, and I was shutting her out, bricking my walls back up without a second thought. I swallowed hard. The last thing I'd wanted was to hurt her.

"I just..." I cleared my throat, trying to figure out just how to phrase what I was trying to say. Words had never been my strong suit, and the right ones to tell her what she needed to know were definitely not coming easily. "If I... if I go, then everyone is gonna see all this," I paused, gesturing to my healing burns and still-bandaged wrists. "And they're going to want to know what happened, aren't they?"

"You've gone to school beat up before, Sam-"

"Yeah, but never as bad as this," I reminded her. Her face fell a little, and I could tell that she knew I was right. "It's pretty obvious that none of this came from some schoolyard scuffle or fighting an old lady over the last ham at Hey, Food!, don't you think? Someone clearly... did this to me, and it's bad enough having to walk around knowing what happened without having to deal with all of our nosy classmates pointing and whispering, too."

Carly nodded, a little deflated. "I just- I really wanted you to come back with me today," she said slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I guess I just want everything to be the way it was, you know? I want... I want everything to be okay again, and I guess in my warped little mind I figured that we'd just go back to school and fall back into our routines like nothing ever happened." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sam. It wasn't right to put all of that on you, especially not now." She exhaled, and I could see her skin blanching where she was digging her fingernails into her arms. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "It was selfish and silly of me."

"No," I said as soothingly as I could, leaning forward to pat her shoulder, watching in horror as a single tear slid down her cheek. "Listen, Carls, you're the least- the least selfish person I know, okay?" She blinked, eyes still bright, looking at me dubiously. "No, I mean it. If anything, I'm the one who's being selfish. I'm the one who's too much of a baby to go to school and face everyone looking like this. That's not your fault." I sat up, wincing a little as my stitches pulled with the sudden motion. "You're my best friend in the entire world, Carly," I assured her. I was a little surprised at the sappiness of my own words, but I plowed ahead anyway. She needed to hear this. "You've proved to me time and time again what it means to be a real friend, and this... situation is no exception." I slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "And I know that when I finally do go back to school, I'll have you by my side, and that's honestly the only thing that's making me want to go back at all."

Carly half-laughed, half-sniffled, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "You'll have Freddie, too," she sighed. She glanced at me quickly, once and then away again, but not before I saw the flicker of mirth shoot through her eyes. I couldn't help but grin. That was so typical of Carly.

"Yeah," I groaned, swatting her on the knee as she giggled and made kissy-faces at me. "I'll have him, too."

Carly quit laughing and looked up at me again, the playfulness gone from her gaze. "You guys really care about each other, don't you?"

I paused a moment before answering. Actually, since I'd gotten out of the hospital, I'd been thinking about that very same thing- if we did, or if our entire relationship was just borne out of me needing him and him happening to be in the right place at the right time. I couldn't help but wonder if Freddie's and my dynamic would be different if none of the stuff with my dad had happened, but the more I thought about it, the more sure I was that our feelings would've developed regardless. I'd liked him before everything had gone down, and I knew that I still did; the intensity of my feelings was just expedited a bit.

"Yeah," I replied, ducking my head shyly. "Yeah, we really do."


Author's Note: A quick, short chapter to get things transitioning to where I need them to be, plus some bonus Cam cuteness because I couldn't help myself. The next chapter will be significantly longer, told by a character we haven't heard from yet, and- oh, you didn't think I was done with the angst yet, did you? :)

The title of this chapter comes from a lyric from the song "Stay Stay Stay" by Taylor Swift.

I hope you enjoyed it! As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated. :)