AN: Hi! Just wanted to say that you guys are super sweet. Thanks for sticking around. It's funny. Someone always seems to know when I'm about to post an update of this and will review or favourite the story. Literally happened last night. Here's a little something to get you through if you're trapped inside right now.

Hope you enjoy this chapter! Took me a while because it's a little long. But I think it's worth it;)

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You Need Me

April

Riley.

The Snapchat appeared on his phone while he was in the washroom. In an effort to not be psycho, I tried not to jump to conclusions. But I knew the name. I knew her. I knew how broken up he'd been when their relationship ended. And here she was, appearing on his phone six months later.

I slipped his phone off the arm of the couch. Since he shared his little apartment with a roommate, they had a lounge area. I rarely spent time here. Only when his roommate was out because his roommate hated guests. But maybe... Maybe it was something else. Maybe it was that I was not the guest his roommate knew about. I wracked my brain for something that may be his passcode.

I typed in his birthday: 0618

I typed in his birth year: 1998

I typed in his favourite number: 4444

I typed in the last four digits of his phone number: 7682

I had limited guesses. A warning popped up that the phone would be disabled after further wrong guesses. I wracked my brain for anything. I couldn't have his phone disabled and look crazy so I needed to know. For sure.

On a whim, I typed: 7453

It opened.

If I needed confirmation, it was the password. Rily. Was he too stupid to realize his password could be longer than four numbers? Apparently. But here it was. That name again.

Riley.

Hot anger seated itself deep in my stomach. I could feel my body burning, my throat seizing up, the abject, slight nauseous feeling of knowing the shittiest thought you had was correct.

I opened Snapchat.

Riley.

Her name had a fucking heart next to it. Their Snap Streak was over 100 days. I had to stop myself from throwing the phone against the wall, if only to make sure my suspicion was 100% true. I clicked on her name and her picture filled the screen.

Until that moment, I hadn't known what she looked like. Sure, I'd searched Freddie's dates and possible interests on Instagram and Facebook, but I'd never looked this girl up. But here I was, staring at a perfectly posed picture of this blue eyed, Kardashian lipped, blonde bitch with her tit out in the open for the world to see. She was lying down on what I could only assume was her bed, curls fanning out, clearly artificially and meticulously placed, tongue out. She'd lowered her tank top so that one of her mosquito bites popped out and placed an emoji with its tongue out, suggestively over her nipple.

I screenshotted the image, then looked through their messages. He didn't have the setting to keep all messages turned on, but I could see their back and forth of snaps. Some photos, some videos.

I glanced toward the bathroom where Flynn was still taking a shower. He'd wanted me to join him. Now I thanked God I never did. I switched over to his texts and found her name with the heart once more. I tried to find myself in his phone before realizing he'd saved me as SP. And I only realized that after searching for "Sam" and having a message come up where he'd texted one of the boys saying, "I saved Sam as SP which works because initials but also she's my side piece."

That. Fucker.

And if I needed more, if I needed anymore proof and heartache and anger than I already had, I still went to their texts. It ranged from life updates, to future plans, to declarations of love, to sexting. For some reason, the sexting hurt the most.

Before I could stop myself, I texted her.

Your boyfriend is cheating on you. 6:44pm

Excuse me? 6:44pm

Flynn. He's a lying son of a bitch and he's cheating on you. With me. I just found out and I had no idea. He told me you guys broke up in October. 6:46pm

You're joking 6:46pm

I fucking wish I was. I'm sorry we've been involved with a dipshit. 6:47pm

The shower stopped. I threw the phone back on the couch. It buzzed again, another message from Riley. But I couldn't keep texting her. I had to leave before I did something stupid. Before I saw him and punched him in the face, or worse, started crying in front of him. I yanked my bag off the floor and shoved it on my shoulder, stuffed my phone into my pocket, and grabbed the bag of nacho chips and salsa. I scanned the room for anything else that might be mine and-

"Sam?" Flynn said. "What are you doing?"

I whipped around, eyes blazing, glaring a hole through his head. "I'm leaving."

"What? Why are you leaving?" he asked. His eyes ran over my body. "Why are you taking the chips with you?"

"Because they're mine."

I turned back to the door and began taking quick, measured steps toward my exit. Flynn, with longer legs, grabbed my arm. I met his eyes, unchanged, unmoving.

"If we're gonna do this, can I at least put on some pants?"

I glanced down. He was only wearing a towel. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Do what, Flynn?"

"Whatever you're doing right now. Whatever you're angry about today."

I yanked my arm away from him and tilted my head. "I don't know. Maybe you should ask your girlfriend." Raised eyebrows. "You know, Riley?"

He laughed. He had the audacity to laugh. The knot of anger in my stomach tightened. My hand clenched on the bag of chips, while the other grabbed for the door handle.

"Geez, Sam," he said. "I never knew you were so paranoid."

"Excuse me?" I deadpanned.

"You're jealous of my duet partner? That's crazy, not to mention stupid. You're overreacting. I don't know where you got the idea that my girlfriend is someone other than you, but-"

"Because your girlfriend texted you." He rolled his eyes. "If you think I'm stupid, you've got another thing coming. What is stupid is sexting your 'ex' girlfriend. What is stupid is telling me that you broke up in October. What is stupid, is you. So, yeah, I'm leaving and you can fuck right off."

His face cycled through several emotions before settling on confusion. "Babe, what're you talking about?"

"God," I breathed. "Don't babe me. Does Riley like that? Is that why you've always insisted on that pet name for me even though you know I hate it?"

"Sam, stop. I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Was I an easy lay? Is that it? Did you just want to fuck me?"

"Clearly not, since we haven't fucked! Sam, I have no idea what you're talking about. Why do you think I'm still with Riley?"

"Look. At. Your. Phone."

He rolled his eyes, walked over to the couch where I'd left it, and picked it up. He didn't look at it until he was in front of me again. I glanced down at his screen, inundated with notification on notification from his girlfriend. I raised my eyebrows.

"You're going to tell me you have no idea what I'm talking about when your phone looks like that?"

He groaned. "My ex girlfriend is fucking crazy. She texts like this on the daily."

"So be a normal human being and block her. But, oh wait, that only works when you're actually exes. I'm not stupid, Flynn. I can see YOUR texts to her. You've been sexting her and it was recent."

He froze. A twitch of his head, sudden set of his shoulders. For the longest time, I hadn't believed those cliches about seeing someone's eyes darken in rage. I knew it was true after seeing it directed towards my mother from her boyfriends, I'd just never had it directed at me. Flynn's eyes darkened as he bridged the gap between us. He gripped onto my arm, squeezing so hard I could almost feel a bruise forming. I tried to peel him off, but he only gripped harder.

"How the fuck did you see my texts? How did you get into my phone? This is such a fucking violation of privacy."

I knew I should back down, but I was so angry, so beyond the point of caring, the I stood my ground.

"Your password is your girlfriend's name. Maybe don't pick something so easy. Maybe don't cheat. Maybe you wouldn't be in this situation if you were actually a good man. I'm not taking the fall for your shit decisions. I'm done with this."

"You had absolutely no right to do this."

"And you had no right to do this to me or her."

"You have no respect for anyone, Sam. You think you're hot shit and the greatest thing to walk the earth. Well, I'm here to tell you that you're nothing. You mean nothing."

"Then why pick me? If I am nothing, then why on earth would you choose me?"

"You're a nice piece of ass, but nothing more."

I laughed and looked him over, scathingly. "And you'll never be anything but a douchebag with a small penis."

I heard it before I felt it. But that might have been the 5 second delay as my head smashed against the door. His hand had connected with my left cheek, no warning, no build up, swift and sharp. I wondered how many times he'd done that to his girlfriend to be so sly. The blow was so hard, it sent me reeling into the door just behind me, my head hitting the frame. Pain radiated on both sides of my head, one sharp and burning, the other dull and throbbing. The shock left me immobilized for a moment before the fight returned to me.

I advanced on him and dumped the chips over his head. Threw the jar of salsa. Red paste splattered against his face, torso, and white towel. My body felt entirely too calm. No satisfaction washed over me as I watched him. I pivoted on my heel and yanked the door open.

"Fuck you, Flynn. Don't ever talk to me again."

I slammed the door.

I took the elevator up to my room, cheek stinging, head pounding. I avoided anyone I remotely knew in the hallway, even if they said hello. I fumbled with the lock on my door, felt a cry escape me, finally unlocked it.

I closed the door and fell to the floor, sobbing.

I can't say how long I stayed there. A thousand thoughts swirled through my head, none of them good, none of them lasting. Every bone, every nerve, every sense in my body felt numb. Shocked. In a total state of disbelief. I didn't move an inch until my phone rang and I jumped a foot.

Freddie's name appeared on the screen and I knew I couldn't answer. The call eventually turned into a notification, a missed call, then a voicemail. I picked up the phone, typed in my voicemail password, and listened to the message.

"Hey Sam," Freddie said. "Hope you're doing well. I know you're studying for all your exams right now and I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I know we talked about PowerPoint and making a game to help you study, so if you still wanted to do that, I'm game. Pardon the pun... Um, right, so call me back. I have about a week before my next exam so I have some time. Later."

I breathed out. Breathing seemed so hard.

Eventually, I crawled over to my bed. The box was still slipped just under it and I pulled it out. There were only a few envelopes left and I prayed something in there would make me feel better. I was willing to stretch the truth of the names on the envelopes just so one might make me feel better. I settled on, "Open When... You Need Me."

I ran my finger along the seam of the envelope and opened it. Two slips of paper fell out. I picked up the first, a short note from Freddie.

"Sometimes, we just need some company."

I pursed my lips and picked up the other paper. A coupon for the full price of a Greyhound bus trip from New York City, to Boston.


... Open When ...


Six hours later, I was in front of Freddie's dorm room again.

After the coupon had landed on my bedroom floor, I didn't need much convincing. I grabbed a duffel bag, shoved some clothes into it, swiped all of my toiletries I needed from the bathroom, and slung my school bag with all my study material over my shoulder. It didn't take long to reach the bus station, and only took a few minutes for a bus to arrive. I got lucky. I settled into a seat and willed myself not to cry.

I glanced at the names on his door. Noah. Pete. Freddie. I brought my fist up to the door and knocked. I heard muffled voices and shuffling from the other side, then it opened.

Freddie's face appeared once the door opened. His mouth opened, recognition flashed in his eyes, a grin, and then...

"Sam," he said, reaching out to my cheek, but pulling back before touching me. "What happened to your face?"

Anger flared in my stomach, but was quickly replaced with deep seated shame. My whole body felt numb. Even the pounding in the right side of my brain had subsided. I tried, once more, to shove away the part of me that wanted to break down and cry, but I couldn't.

"I'm my mother's daughter," I whispered, before the sob escaped me.

Freddie's arms were around me a second later. He pulled me inside and shielded me from whoever was in the main room, until we were both on his bed. He removed my bags from arms, then my coat, all without fully letting me go. He let me cry until I couldn't anymore, then handed me a cup of water.

"Is this yours?" I asked.

"Yes."

I shrugged and drank. Silence filled the air between us and the gravity of what I'd done hit me. I got on a bus and came all the way here. To cry. To cry on Freddie. Heat spread across my face and chest. I angled my body away from him and sensing my discomfort, he let go of me.

"Freddie, I didn't mean-"

"What happened?"

"I shouldn't have come here to bother you w-"

"What happened?"

"I feel like such an idiot for crying on your be-"

"Okay, fine," he sighed. I noticed his clenched fists. "You don't have to tell me what happened. If you... If that makes you uncomfortable. It's fine. But don't apologize for coming here. Ever."

I nodded, but didn't look at him. I stared at the door, well aware of his presence beside me, well aware of the stinging creeping over the left side of my face. I hadn't looked at myself. A bruise must have formed, maybe a cut, maybe a swell. It hurt if it blinked too hard, rubbed my eye, quirked my lips too forcefully. I closed my eyes and focused on Freddie's breathing.

The boy who knew how to deal with me.

"He hit me," I whispered.

"What?" Freddie said. I couldn't tell from his tone if he hadn't heard me or if he was enraged.

I lifted my head and turned to him. Fire bore into me from his eyes. Anger, not at me, but the situation.

"He hit-"

"I know. I heard you, I just - Flynn? Your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend." Was all I could think to say.

Silence. Again.

"Good," Freddie eventually said.

"He never broke up with his girlfriend. I was helping him cheat, but I didn't know, so I guess he was cheating on me too."

"And you found out?"

"Today." I stared at his door again. "So he hit me. I've seen that happen to my mom a thousand times. I've taken my anger out on other people and you and I just... No one has ever done that to me before. And maybe they should have because then maybe I would have understood it. I have never felt so humiliated and stupid in my life. Why do you like me? How do you even stand me after the things I've done to you?"

Freddie gasped. The conversation had turned. Unintentionally, I'd revealed a lot more than I meant. Through the bus ride and my tears, I had a lot of time to think about why this was bugging me. Aside from the betrayal, embarrassment, and physical pain of it, I saw myself in him. I saw my mother and him in my actions. I was somehow simultaneously a victim and an abuser. And I hated it.

"Because you were a kid that never knew where to place your anger. You were shown that that's what you do when you're mad, so you did it. People said things and did things to you, so you needed a mask and you learned how to fight back. I get it now. And maybe, on some level, I got it before you told me. Maybe I assumed a lot of things with you and realized just how bad things were this year. Maybe I wish I wasn't such a stupid kid. So completely self involved that I couldn't see that my friend was struggling with something and putting up a front for everyone else."

I shook my head. "Freddie, no, you were-"

"I was," he said. "We all really sucked. We all ignored things we shouldn't have. God, Spencer was an actual adult. I know he's in his own little world, but he probably could have caught onto something."

"It's not your responsibility to figure out my life."

"Not now, no," he said. He touched my knee and made me look at him. "But, Sam, you were a kid. None of what happened to you should have happened."

I stared at him. I just blinked. It was all I could do. And then I shut down.

"Well, it did."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," I said and closed my eyes. "Me too."

We said nothing for a while, then Freddie grabbed my hand. He entwined our fingers and I squeezed back. I wanted to let go, push away, but he kept the connection. I wanted to cry and tell him what a horrible person I was, but I didn't actually want him to see that. His hand, his simple gesture, felt like he was tethering me to the world right when I felt like floating away.

Eventually, I leaned into him. When I looked up and faced him, his eyes met mine. I brought the hand that wasn't in his up to his cheek and stroked the light stubble with my thumb. He opened his mouth to say something, but I closed the gap with my lips. It was quick, sweet. I pulled back to see shock, confusion, and a hint of a smirk on his face. I opened my mouth to apologize, but his lips drew back to mine like a magnet. The same sort of shock seeped into my veins, but not enough to make me freeze, not enough to make me question what I was doing.

He drew me back into him, like I had been while I was crying. But instead of shame and embarrassment, a different emotion flooded me. Lust. My hands looped at the back of his neck, as his roamed down my body, settling on the base of my spine, inching their way underneath the hem of my shirt. I smiled into the kiss.

... Then we both jumped apart when a loud knock sounded on his door. Our eyes met for a split second before we both looked away.

"Yo, Freddie," a vaguely familiar voice said.

Freddie cleared his throat and answered. "Yeah, Noah? What's up?"

His roommate turned the knob and walked in. Freddie scrambled in the brief second before Noah appeared around the door, grabbed a book off his end table and held it in front of him, obvious enough that I knew what he was doing. I laughed and Noah looked over to me.

"Oh, hey, Sam," he said. His eyes darted over the bruise on my cheek, then to the ground. "I didn't know you were here."

"Just dropping by," I said as casually as possible.

"That's cool." He looked up and grinned. "So, my girl is having a party. You guys in?"


... Open When ...


Noah's girl turned out to be Penny. And the party that she was having turned out to be in Noah/Freddie/Pete's dorm. There wasn't much of a choice in whether or not we wanted to go. The party came to us.

I'd left the room with Noah, giving Freddie a chance to sort out his situation, and also, maybe, to make sense of what had just happened. We kissed. We. Kissed. And if Noah hadn't walked in, we probably would have done more. Penny caught sight of me right away and decided she had to fix my face. So a whole lot of concealer and foundation and a little bit of mascara later, she deemed me suitable. I wanted to hate her from all the preconceived notions I held, but she was actually really nice to me. I appreciated her makeup skills and bathroom pep talk. I also appreciated the shots she sent my way.

"Where have you been?" Freddie slurred as he walked up to me, red solo cup in hand.

Truthfully, I'd been avoiding him. The more drunk I was the more I wanted to hide from my feelings. But with him in front of me... Well, with him in front of me, I wanted to do something very different.

"Around," I said and took his drink from him. He let me and I sipped. Just beer. Nothing fancy. "I'm very popular."

He nodded. "I sooo get that. Did you know you're really, really beautiful?"

"Really really?" I laughed. "Like really?"

"Stop." He laughed. He took his drink back and chugged the rest. "You should just know. You're so pretty."

Drunk Freddie was a Freddie who constantly told me I was beautiful. I experienced this version of him once when I was sober and noted how genuine he was about it. Every time after made me feel floaty.

"You're very pretty too," I told him.

He grinned. Pete, his roommate that I'd barely ever heard speak, but was a fabulous bartender, appeared at Freddie's side and handed him two more drinks.

"You're beautiful!" I told Pete.

He flushed and Freddie laughed.

"I know you think I'm joking, Sam, but I'm totally serious."

"Ohhh, I know, Fredwardio. Pete is, like, really pretty."

"Sam," Freddie said and placed a hand on my arm. He looked into my eyes. "You are the most gorgeous person I have ever met."

"You're gorgeous too, darling," I drawled in a shitty southern accent.

He smirked, then laughed.

"Gaw-jus."

I laughed at his imitation. Soon, we had fully introduced the southern accent to our conversation. Every word had a little twang, every sentence made us giggle uncontrollably.

Penny danced her way over to us. Not because music was playing, which it was, but because she tended to dance around as she moved. I watched her pink head warily. Her little pixie cut in ombré shades of pink annoyed me, even though she had been nice to me. Everything about her screamed trying too hard and drunk me was unashamed to admit that I was maybe jealous of her - in my mind.

"Hey, guys!" she yelled, even though the music wasn't that loud.

"Howdy," Freddie said, making us giggle once more.

Penny smirked and wound up laughing with us. "You two are cuties. I wish I could be that fucking cute, you know? But Noah doesn't see me as anything more than a fuck toy and that's soooo depressing. You know what I mean? Like if I could get someone to look at me the way you guys look at each other then my life would be so complete. So complete. Like the most complete."

"What?" I said. "What way?"

"What way?"

"We look at each other what way?"

"Ohhh," Penny said. "Like he looks at you like you're the most special thing ever. And you look at him like he's totally weird but like weird in a good way because you love him and wouldn't change that."

We were both silent for a moment, then Freddie spoke. "Well, she is really beautiful and special, isn't she?"

Deadpan. No accent. Drunk, but honest.

"Freddie, I -"

My phone rang. It took me a moment to realize what it was. I slipped it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. Carly. I walked out of the room, into Freddie's, and closed the door.

"Hey, Carls," I said. Slurred. Slipped a bit of a southern twang in.

"Hey," she said, but it came out as more of a question. "Are you at a party? I can hear music and you sound kind of drunk."

The door to Freddie's room opened and his head peeked around it. I stared at him before answering Carly.

"Yeah," I said.

"Oh, okay! I'll let you go have fun then! Later."

She hung up before I could say anything. And maybe that was fine because all I could think of was Freddie. In front of me. Looking as handsome as ever.

"Sam, Penny didn't mean -"

I crossed the gap between us and kissed him. This time, he didn't freeze. He reacted immediately, lips moving feverishly against mine, arms around me, legs propelling me back towards his bed. My head hit his pillow and he settled on top of me. I could feel every inch of his body and I wanted more. I wanted skin. I wanted him.

So I got him.