In Which Sam Makes a Friend
Once Danny and her had eaten—peanut butter sandwiches, courtesy of the Fenton himself—the two had gone their separate ways; Sam going back to her cleaning and Danny doing…whatever it is he did for his accounting job.
Meaning, she didn't see him for the rest of the day.
After she'd picked up Mack from school, the girl regaling her with wild, probably embellished stories about her first day of class,
"—Mr. Tucker is so funny, momma! He interrupted our quiet time to show us cat videos on the projector. He's my favourite!"
Then again, this was Tucker they were talking about. Sam had formally known the man for a day and already she could tell he was a chaotic force to be reckoned with.
Upon their return to Fenton Works, the girl flew up the pathway to the house, dragging her bag behind her in the dirt.
Sam got out much slower, heading up to her new bedroom.
She felt stuffy.
All day, except for her and Danny's talk, she'd been working on getting the room up to livable condition.
Meaning that, though the dust and cobwebs had been removed, Sam needed an escape. A break of sorts.
Making a quick decision, she changed out of her previous outfit and pulled on a pair of black yoga pants, fishing a worn workout tee from the bottom of her suitcase.
She winced guiltily at the fact that she still hadn't even unpacked, but it would have to wait.
Gathering her short hair into a tight ponytail at the back of her head, she briefly admired her handiwork in the mirror before heading downstairs.
"Where're you going, momma?" Mack's voice chirruped from the kitchen table, her new school supplies spread before her.
"Just going for a run, bean. Momma needs to get out of the house." Sam trotted over to her daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "What's all this?"
Mixed chaotically among Mack's various implements were sheets of paper, all displaying an easy to read font.
The girl brandished the closest one proudly, "It's my homework!"
Oh, uh," She gave her a hesitant smile. "Very nice?"
"I know," Mack grinned, holding up a chewed pencil. "I'm just like the big kids on TV now!"
"Only better." Sam teased, carding through her child's thick locks. Mack had inherited the same inky black as her, but the curliness of it came from her father.
Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her worn face and fixed a smile on it, "Where's Danny?"
"Right here," A third voice joined their conversation, so close that it made goosebumps break out on Sam's skin.
She spun around quickly, coming toe-to-toe with him.
He was apparently unaffected by her closeness, a sloppy grin curling his lips. "You need something?"
Sam wasn't entirely sure that leaving Mack alone with him was the best decision, as they'd only known the man for a few days.
However, after whatever had taken place earlier that morning, she found herself trusting him.
Why? She had no idea. Hopefully, she wouldn't come to regret her decision.
"Yeah, actually." The raven-haired woman gestured absently at her outfit before continuing, "I was thinking about going for a jog, letting off some steam. I've been inside for too long."
Danny nodded, shifting a massive bag of flour from one hand to the other—wait, massive bag of flour?
He seemed to notice her confused stare and hoisted it up, displaying its paper wrapping to the fullest. "I'm making pizza, in celebration of Mack's first day of school."
Sam squinted at him, then at the bag, then back again. "You can…make…pizza?"
"It's not really that hard." The man shrugged, placing the substantially sized package on the counter like it weighed nothing.
"I didn't know you could cook." She answered dumbly, thinking back to their lunch that afternoon.
"What? You thought I lived off PB&J?"
Her cheeks darkened with an embarrassed flush, as those had been her thoughts exactly. "You just don't seem like the cook-ey type."
"I never used to be. Apparently living on your own with literally nothing to do does wonders for your culinary skills." He turned towards her again, "That, and lots of tutorial videos."
"So, you don't mind?"
He made a shooing gesture with his hand, "Yeah, me and Mack'll be fine."
"Thanks." She hesitated in the kitchen, glancing between the room's two occupants. "You sure you'll be fi—"
"Go, momma!" The younger called from the table, "If you don't go now you won't be back in time for pizza."
Danny nodded solemnly. "Wise words from a wise soul."
"Alright, alright." Sam heaved a sigh. "I'm going."
Her worn runners were sitting next to the door, their colours faded with age and use. "Bye!" She called, lingering in the entrance way after she'd tied her laces.
"Get out of here!" Danny's voice echoed from around the corner, giving her the final push she needed.
Grunting, she pulled the door open and walked down steps, placing her headphones over her ears and dialling up some Dumpty Humpty.
Turning the volume up loud as her ears could take it without them bleeding, she started with a brisk walk to get her warmed up.
Sam glanced curiously at a house with 'Baxter' printed in bold on the mailbox, not feeling the odd heart-trill she'd become accustomed to at the thought of the blond officer.
Frowning, she pushed the thought of him aside and continued on her way.
With the cool air pressing against her face and the rock blaring in her ears, she knew she'd made the right choice; this was exactly what she needed.
Houses passed slowly by, the few pedestrians that were braving the chilled air giving her a wide berth.
Sam liked wearing headphones for that very reason. They were a natural people deterrent.
Picking up the pace, she followed the winding roads wherever they were willing to take her.
BREAK
She'd been out for the better part of an hour when a public park caught her eye, a gravel path drawing her further into its depths.
A few trees dotted the trim grass, towering pines and golden deciduous foliage. She spotted a curved bench a little off the track and jogged over, sitting down with a breathy exhale.
Closing her eyes in contentment, the setting sun doing little to take the frosty temperature out of the air, she leaned her head back against the polished wood.
The music faded as she began to drift into a light doze, her early morning catching up with her.
That is, until someone placed a hand on her shoulder.
Cursing, she jolted away from the touch, dislodging her headphones in the process. "What the fu—"
"Sorry!" The voice was strangely familiar in its chipper tone, decidedly female. "I didn't realize you were asleep."
Sam blinked the last of the haze from her eyes, pale skin and odd turquoise eyes coming into view.
It was the receptionist from Mack's school—Estelle, if Sam was remembering correctly.
"Oh," The dark-haired woman sat up, fixing her headphones so they rested comfortably around her neck. "Can I help you?"
Seeming to realize how strange of a situation this was, the blonde sat up a little straighter, "Right! I recognized you from earlier today, thought I'd say hi. You're new in Amity, right?"
"Sort of," Sam shifted uncomfortably, the other's cheery presence making her want to run for it. "I was born here, but my family moved when I was younger. Decided to come back, see what my hometown was like."
"Samantha, right?" The woman confirmed, reaching out a hand towards her.
Sam took it, shaking it firmly up and down before quickly letting go. "You can call me Sam. Samantha's…" She figured it'd be a little strange to mention her teenage rebellion and overcontrolling parents, so she just went with, "Long."
"I get it," Estelle smiled at her, revealing those same perfect teeth. "My friends' call me Star, never really did get used to my real name."
Surprised, Sam gave the woman an appraising once-over. "It does suit you more than Estelle. "Well, that is, not to say your name doesn't suit you, but—"
"Nah," The blonde waved her hurried explanation away. "I totally get it. So, Sam, how's Amity been treating you so far?
"Good," She answered, telling the honest truth. Shockingly, Sam really had genuinely been enjoying her time here.
The people seemed kind; the atmosphere subdued, but pleasant. She had yet to come across a single mean hearted soul.
"Rumour has it you moved into the old Fenton Works building," The woman leaned towards her. "I honestly don't think it's that big a deal, but news spreads fast around here."
Why did so many people care about the old house? It didn't make sense.
"Yeah. It was cheap and had enough rooms, so we went for it."
"You must be pretty brave." A ditzy smile was spreading across the other's cheeks, but underneath it Sam could detect something more. Not malintent, exactly, just a gleaming sort of intelligence.
This woman was smart, even though she was clearly portraying the opposite. Sam absently wondered if the act was intentional or not.
"I don't think moving into an old house is particularly brave," She answered slowly, feeling like she was being tested. "Unless you're referring to the strange stories about it being haunted."
Star surprised her by giving a straightforward nod, "Exactly. I'd heard that the Fentons' ghosts still hung around, which wouldn't be a stretch considering this is Amity."
"Everyone keeps saying that, but this town doesn't seem so weird."
"Oh, trust me." The woman laughed, "Once you've witnessed your first ghost attack, you'll have a very different opinion of this place."
"I think I already have witnessed one," Sam answered honestly, recalling the strange fire-breathing racoon incident at the mall. "At the mall, the other day."
"Poor dear," Star patted her knee. Usually such a touch wouldn't be appreciated it, but there was something innocent about the way she did it that made it bearable. "I saw it on the news the other night. That must've been so scary when Mack got taken."
"It was." She had been absolutely terrified at the thought of losing her daughter. Terrified. "But what's the deal with that Phantom guy?"
"Ah." It looked like the blonde blushed, ducking her head and running a hand through her fair locks. "He's a bit of a controversy around here."
"Yeah," Sam recalled the odd words of the people at the mall; the strange way they'd either put down or defended his actions. "Is he a ghost?"
"Yup," The 'p' was popped, the woman's glossed pink lips smacking together. "Just a really weird one. He debuted—oh, quite a few years ago, now. I was in senior year? Maybe junior, it's kind of fuzzy."
"Debuted?" The raven-haired answered, "As what? A musician?"
Star smirked at Sam's sarcasm. "More like a superhero. You should've seen it, girl. There was this fugly cafeteria ghost who went crazy over Foley changing the menu." She laughed, placing a petite hand over her mouth. "He was petitioning for an-all meat buffet, if you can believe it."
For some reason, that didn't surprise her. At all.
Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head at the thought. Sure, she'd done something similar at her own high school, but it'd been wholesome veggies, not slaughtered livestock. "Please tell me he didn't get away with it."
"No, that ghost lady set him straight." Star stared at something only she could see, seemingly lost in old memories. "That was the first time we saw Phantom, even though back then we called him 'Invizo-bill."
"That's…a horrible name."
Sam's comment seemed to startle the woman out of her reminiscing, as she laughed loudly before answering,
"Yeah! That's what I thought, too. Paulina was all over it, though." Star rubbed absently at her washed jeans, a far-cry from the pencil skirt she'd donned earlier that day. "And back then, what Paulina said went."
Sam wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, as she had no idea who this 'Paulina' person was, but fortunately she was saved having to answer by a nearby explosion.
Or unfortunately, pending your opinion on arsonists.
Grunting, Sam flung herself off the bench and threw an arm over her head.
All around them, the peaceful park erupted into pandemonium. People rushing to get away from the green-tinted mushroom cloud billowing into the sky.
"What the hell is that? A bomb?" She barked at the blonde, unable to take her eyes of the smoke.
Star looked unfazed, bemusedly watching a woman frantically run by with her dog and child in tow. "Huh, must be tourists." She pulled Sam up to her feet, dusting some crushed leaves off the other woman's jeans.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam was really trying not to convert her fear into anger, but she wasn't sure if she was successful on that front. "And why aren't we running?"
The blonde just shrugged, "I guess you get used to it eventually. This is pretty normal here." Then her eyes widened, a devious smile twisting her usually sweet features.
Sam did not like it one bit.
"Hey, you wanted to know about Phantom, right?" The woman's grin widened, her gaze never leaving Sam's face. "How about we go and meet him?"
"What?" This chick had to be insane, that was the only reasonable answer Sam could come up with to explain her behaviour.
"It's perfectly safe, I assure you. Me and Paulie used to Phantom watch all the time. Heck, almost all the cheerleaders did it! Except Ashley; she was gay. Not interested in dead-ghost boys, I guess. You in?"
Despite herself, Sam found herself swept up in it. Whether spurred on by her inner writer or just frank curiosity, she herself could hardly believe her next words,
"o…kay?" She dearly hoped she wouldn't come to regret her decision.
Star, however, was all unreserved enthusiasm, her fingers wrapping tightly around Sam's own. "Yeah! Come on, or we'll miss him!"
The glimmering excitement in the woman's turquoise depths was infectious, and Sam found herself mirroring the woman's smile.
Hand in hand, they headed towards the explosion. The violet-eyed woman still hardly believing she was doing this.
What a way to make a friend, she thought dryly, a grin tugging on her lips all the same.
This town really was crazy.
(A/N:) And SCENE! Whew, this chapter was a teense bit longer than most! Only 3,000 words or so, but it feels like a lot more when you're writing it _
Thanks to all the wonderful reviews last chapter: Phoenixdellaverita, Reflective Reader, I can cry you a river, sibunasiren10, Cyber-Geist, Guest 1, Z, Guest 2, and Snowflame 98!
I seriously could not ask for better readers! You are all so amazing 3
Till next time!
~ASL