Sweethearts
By:Tryx Email: lectryx@yahoo.comRating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Zane
Summary: The annual Glory High Sweethearts Dance approaches—causing Sam and Zane to make a choice.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to my beta Ras, you've been a huge help—to everyone else: enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Glory Days (or anyone in it), the nice people at the WB do.
2
*****
"What do you two mean you're 'not going'?" Rudy demanded. Sam and Zane just shrugged, grinning at the fact that they could get the normally calm man to have a public outburst.
"No way, you two have to go… you're the only two teenagers on this entire island that I can stand-let alone like-and you are not deserting me with the remainder of your species."
Zane leaned over to Sam, tilting his mouth so that it was near her ear. "Hear that, babe, we've actually qualified as a species!"
Sam's eyes darted to his, then to a fuming Rudy, then back to Zane again, trying desperately not to laugh.
"Sheriff, calm down," Zane said, trying not to attract too much attention to them. "We just don't want to go…it's nothing but a stupid mating ritual anyway…and we've chosen that we'd rather not hole ourselves up in a stifling gymnasium late at night and watch a bunch of sweaty teenagers rub up against each other."
"That's what cable television is for-to provide that kind of entertainment," Sam added, grinning.
Rudy groaned. "You two don't understand… by pulling yourselves out of this, you're leaving me on my own, in the exact same scenario that you want to avoid. Alone, guys… completely alone."
"I'm sure you'll survive, Rudy," Sam said, patting the pathetic-looking sheriff on the back as she and Zane turned to leave.
"Good luck, Rudy!" Zane yelled behind them, as they quickened their pace, walking away from him, before they changed their minds.
*****
"So, what's the real reason you're not going to the dance?" Zane asked as he planted himself on the Dolan's living room sofa, not tearing his eyes away from Sam.
She shrugged, pulling her puffy white coat off and running her hands through her long hair.
"Couldn't get a date, I guess."
Zane's eyes narrowed.
"That's bull, Sam."
She looked over at him, a little shocked.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, walking over to stand in front of him.
"You could get a date and you know it. Hell, I heard one guy ask you out less than an hour ago, and you turned him down. So don't lie to me about not getting a date."
Sam shrugged again, trying to cover up her answer, knowing she'd been caught. "Maybe I couldn't get the date I really wanted, Zane. Or maybe I just don't like dances; maybe I don't like getting all dressed up. What does it matter?"
Zane ran his hands through his short raven spikes, and then glared at her. "It matters, Sam.
"Anything that you think is worth lying to me about-it matters. It matters to me. And don't give me that shit about not getting 'the date you wanted', okay? You know you're damn gorgeous, so unless the guy is blind or just plain stupid, you could get him to go with you. No matter what. And I know that you like dances-and getting dressed up-or else I wouldn't have seen you mooning over that stupid dress in the store window when we were in Seattle last month. Okay, Sam? Don't lie to me."
"God, Zane, what's your problem?" she demanded, starting to get really pissed off at him. "What does it matter why I don't want to go? I'm not going and that's all that matters.
"I don't understand why the reason behind my actions is so important to you."
His blue-green eyes searched her own brown depths-half with anger, half with sadness.
"Everything about you is important to me, Sam. You should know that by now."
Oh, God, what am I doing? she thought. I'm only confusing both of us even more.
"Zane…" she started, but trailed off when she realized that what she wanted to say couldn't be put into words. Zane shook his head at her silence, and grabbed the denim coat that lay beside him, pulling himself to his feet.
He pushed past her and was out the door before she could make a move to stop him. After a moment, she recovered from her shock, and ran after him, but by the time she got to the front door, he was already halfway down the street-and she didn't have the strength in her to go after him.
What have I done? Sam thought sadly, sinking down to sit on the stairs.
What have I done?