"Come to me now and lay your hands over me. Even if it's a lie, say it will be all right and I shall believe."

- Sheryl Crow, "I Shall Believe"

Chapter Six

The Story of a Girl

Laura sat alone on the couch, studying her reflection in the blank screen of the flat screen television directly in front of her. She looked like such a different person at that moment, an extra four inches added to her shoulders because of the trio of blankets she wrapped around them, but she could still see herself shivering beneath the covers. And with her once thick curls now wet and stringy, sticking her to her pale skin, she really played the part of a lost girl, suddenly forgotten by the world and on her own.

But she wasn't alone, as much she as wanted to make it so. Behind her own reflection, Laura could see Brian pacing back and forth across the living room, ringing his hands nervously. And out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sam sitting by the window, peering out silently, while his fingers blindly tuned a small Walkman in his hands.

So far, Sam had found nothing but static and was extending his search for a news report outside of the local stations. Laura looked over at him and noticed that the radio in his hands looked awfully familiar. "Hey," she said when she placed the device, "that's mine."

Sam didn't look away from the window. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd mind." He told her, almost coldly, keeping his back to her.

Laura sighed, almost inaudibly and looked away from him, her shoulders slumping as she attempted to bury herself deeper into her cave of blankets. She just wanted to hide her face in there forever and not once remember how she had acted like an idiot, pushing away the one person that probably really cared for her. She didn't want to remember how she had undeniably hurt that person.

Just look at me, Laura wanted to say to Sam, just look at me and let me apologize. Just ask and I'll tell you everything. Please look at me and see that I love you. But she could never say those things aloud.

And, the frightening thing was, that she wasn't even quite sure she wanted to speak out loud, to open herself up and give Sam the chance to hurt her. She had learned from her mother -and from her own experiences- that all people ever did was hurt you and if you let yourself be hurt, then there was no one to blame but yourself.

But Laura didn't expect Sam to understand the lesson that had been drilled into her mind ever since her father had left years ago. Sam had never had anything taken from him; he had the love of his parents, whether they lived together or not, and he had her heart, though that probably wasn't something he was aware of. She could make him understand everything...if he'd only ask. But she had spent her life wishing for things that would never happen and there was no way to make him understand what he didn't want to hear.

And so Sam remained with his back to her, tuning the Walkman in an attempt to find a station that was anything but static. Laura remained with her face buried against the fabric of the quilt around her shoulders, listening to the sound of the ever present rain beating against the window.

Sam finally stopped rolling the tuner when he reached a station that was audible through the static. Instead of hearing a news report, however, the sound that came through the speakers was an old Jewel song, something that Laura couldn't understand. With New York City all but under water and it seemed hard to believe that anyone would be interested in hearing about Jewel's foolish games.

"This is stupid." Brian said so suddenly that both Sam and Laura turned to him in surprise. "Why aren't there news reports? What's going on out there?"

There was no answer to his question. They could do nothing but wait.

When Lucy Hall finally met her ex-husband in the crowded lobby of the NOAA building, she threw her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself close against him. Jack Hall was so shocked by her actions that he remained motionless, his arms limp at his sides. He felt as though he should do something, even pat his ex-wife on the back, but he remained still.

Lucy finally released Jack and looked at him with pure sorrow in her eyes. "I've been trying to reach Sam." She told him, her voice wavering. "What's happening Jack?"

It seemed like it had been decades ago that they had learned of the massive tidal wave that had struck New York city but Jack realized that it had been little over half an hour. It seemed impossible to believe that, even with all the other weather anomalies striking the globe that an entire city could now be buried beneath water. It was even more impossible to believe that his only son had been in that city.

"I don't know." Jack said truthfully, answering Lucy's question. "We're trying to figure out what caused the wave but so far..." he shrugged helplessly, "nothing."

Lucy stared at him. "What about Sam?" She questioned, almost fearfully. "Have you heard from him?"

Jack wished that he had a better answer for her but, sadly, all he could do was shake his head. This was clearly not the answer Lucy wanted for she choked back a cry and pressed her fingers to her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. "Why not?" Her words were little above a whisper. "Why hasn't he called?"

"The phone lines have probably been damaged in the wave." Jack answered promptly. "He probably can't find a phone that works."

Lucy looked at him, almost skeptically. "A cell phone?" She suggested, though she didn't want Jack to answer, didn't want him to tell her that her son hadn't called because he couldn't, because he hadn't escaped the tidal wave.

"The towers were probably damaged too." Jack answered, resting his hands on his ex-wife's shoulders. "When Sam can get to a phone, he'll call us."

Lucy's chin wavered as she attempted to hold back the tears that were already rolling down her cheeks. "Our son, Jack. He's out there all alone. Our baby."

Jack pulled her against him then, wrapping his arms tightly around Lucy's waist and pressing her face against his chest. Lucy dried her cheeks on his shirt, though there were plenty more tears to wet them again and she held Jack tightly. It had been years since she had looked to him as a source of strength but, right now, he was all she had and she wasn't strong enough for herself anymore.

"Sam's a strong boy." Jack whispered comfortingly as he stroked Lucy's short black locks. "He'll come back to us."

Lucy didn't say anything in response to his words. There was nothing she could say; she could only hope.

Robert Coleman had lived in New York his entire forty-five years and not once had he seen something even close to what he was seeing now. Staring out his nineteenth floor window, he found himself staring back at his own confused reflection instead of down at the usually clogged streets of the city. There were no cars to be seen then, just water; lots and lots of water.

At the moment, he couldn't even get his mind around just what had happened. One minute he had been speaking to his overly annoying, soon to be ex-wife, but the phone had gone dead and the lights had gone out. And now he was looking at what had once been New York City, and which was now nothing but a giant body of water.

It just made no sense, Coleman decided, continuing to stare down into the water as though some great secret lay beneath the waves. But if there was a secret hidden down there somewhere, or any answers, then he sure couldn't see them.

Michelle Chapman was pacing around her small kitchen in a huff, as she always seemed to do when she upset about one thing or another, when her youngest daughter came rushing up to her so fast she nearly slipped on the tile floor. Tessa Chapman caught herself on one of the kitchen chairs and righted herself, not pausing in her hurried rush to her mother.

"Mom." Tessa breathed when she clasped her mother's arms. "You have to come watch the news." She tugged her mother toward the living room. "Right now." For ten-years-old, she could often be quite whiny and persistent.

Since there was nothing else to do and pacing around a kitchen wasn't a great plan of action, Michelle followed her youngest child into the living room, where the television was on. It wasn't a common occurrence for Tessa to watch the news on her own free will, that was mainly Laura's area, but Michelle soon saw that the news report had interrupted whatever her daughter had been watching before.

Tessa turned to face her mother. "There's a flood in New York." She informed the woman. "Isn't that where Laura is?" She looked at Michelle with the worried eyes of a child missing her sister.

Michelle ignored her daughter's question and focused her attention on the television in front of her; a local news anchor was standing in front of the NOAA, which was a mad-house from what she could tell. He was informing his "loyal viewers", that, while reports were scattered, it appeared that New York City had been hit by a massive tidal wave. The station had yet to reach any affiliates in the submerged city but they would keep viewers updated.

"Mom?" Tessa's voice jerked Michelle's attention away from the television. "Is Laura all right?"

Michelle sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She could not deal with this right now; on top of everything else, she could not deal with her eldest daughter in a science fiction situation thousands of miles away. Ignoring Tessa's question, she whirled away and stalked back toward the kitchen; at least there she could begin to get some thinking done.

With the onset of night came a new round of questions that filled Sam's mind, leaving a developing pit clawing at his stomach and his throat growing dry with worry. In the hours that he had remained sentry beside the window, peering down at the water-logged city in the dwindling light, it became clear that help was not coming.

That assumption was further fueled by the news reports that were slowly pouring out of the tiny speaker of the Walkman that Brian hadn't set down in hours. On top of a tidal wave in New York, the rest of the world was being struck by disasters as well, the details of which still managed to baffle Sam. The day following the set of tornados that had struck Los Angeles, the city had been ravaged by a earthquake that was nearly off the rictor scale, all but tearing the entire state into pieces. Florida had been almost destroyed by the massive hurricane that was still pounding away at the coast, flooding the state as far inland as Orlando. Australia and Japan alike had been pummeled by typhoons, which had left death-counts well into the thousands and very little land mass left above sea level. Almost all of Europe was a solid ice cube, buried beneath over fifteen feet of snow.

As the scattered reports came in through the Walkman, Sam knew that they all boiled down to one thing: no help was coming. With the rest of the world in turmoil, it was highly unlikely that the United States Government was going to send a surely hopeless rescue mission to New York. Sam didn't even know if there was anyone else left alive in the state, so it was even less likely that the government would know. They were dealing with the rest of the country that wasn't under water and he couldn't help but feel abandoned.

Brian had given up his pacing hours ago and was now sitting in a large arm chair toward the back of the living room, hidden in shadows, with the radio in his hands. He was holding it as though it was their last link to humanity, of ever being rescued from the apartment. Sam didn't even want to think about what would happen when the batteries finally ran out, or what would happen when they ran out of the candles, of food...

Sam turned away from the window, for it was too dark to see anything anymore anyway, and gazed around the living room. Less then an hour ago, they had decided to blow out more then half of the candles Laura had found in the kitchen in hopes of conserving them for later; however, that decision had plunged most of the apartment into blackness. He could just barely see Brian, who appeared to be almost hiding in the back of the room, and Laura, who hadn't moved from her spot on the couch in hours. He watched her for a moment, trying to see her past the heap of blankets she had wrapped around herself but Laura was well hidden. She hadn't spoken in hours and Sam wished he could say something to her, to apologize for the cold-shoulder he'd been giving her.

So suddenly that Sam wondered if she hadn't received some sort of silent signal, Laura stood up, the quilts dropping from her shoulders onto the couch. Without a word to either of her companions, she headed out of the living room and down the hallway toward her bedroom, taking one of the candles with her as she went.

Sam watched her, once again hating himself for not being able to open his mouth and speak. He didn't know why Laura had turned away from him when he had attempted to comfort her, he couldn't even begin to understand but he knew that if she'd let him, he'd spend hours uncovering her every secret.

"You can't blame her, Sam." Brian said suddenly from his dark corner of the apartment, causing his friend to look in his direction.

Sam picked Brian out of the shadows. "What are you talking about?" He questioned. "Blame her?"

Brian nodded. "Laura." He said, almost as though clarifying just who they were talking about. "Just because she doesn't want to talk doesn't mean you have to ignore her."

Sam regarded him quizzically. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He said, though, in truth, he thought that he was beginning to have an idea. "I wasn't ignoring Laura."

"Yes you were." Brian said simply. "If you really want to know what's bothering her, you should just ask."

So Brian had heard a little of their conversation from earlier, Sam decided, if not all of it. For a moment, he was so envious of his best friend that he almost couldn't stand it; Brian knew things about Laura that he could never know. He had memories of Laura that he would never have and he knew most of Laura's secrets.

Sam stared at his friend for a while, forcing the jealousy to pass; whatever Laura and Brian had, it was nothing like what he wanted to have with her. And that was something he would never have if he didn't talk to Laura, to force himself to ask to know her secrets and tell her his. Tell her that he loved her.

"Yeah." Sam mumbled finally. "You're right. I should just talk to her." He stood, something he hadn't done in nearly two hours and wasn't surprised to find that his muscles had stiffened. There was nothing like being trapped inside an apartment to take away your need for motion.

Brian nodded once and returned his gaze to the Walkman, as though it would tell him something that he didn't already know. Sam cast one final glance out the window, though in the darkness the only thing he could see was his own reflection, before heading out the living room and down the hallway Laura had disappeared down moments before.

Laura had left the bedroom door open and Sam could see the faint glow of the candle washing across the floor. He stopped in the foyer and peered inside, spotting Laura sitting motionless on the edge of the bed, and he rapped on the side of the door so that it didn't look as though he were barging in on her.

Laura turned in his direction, startled and fixed him with her solid brown eyes. Sam saw that whatever had caused them to sparkle had vanished and he couldn't help but feel that it was his fault that her light had gone. He saw that she was shivering slightly, having deserted her mass of blankets and had her curls pulled back into a ponytail. Even in the faint light from the single candle, Sam could still tell how beautiful she was.

For a moment, they remained where they were, staring at each other through the shadows as though they were complete strangers. Finally, Sam stepped into the room and nudged the door shut behind him, unwilling to allow Brian anymore chances to eavesdrop but didn't step any closer to Laura, as though attempting to keep his distance.

It was Laura who spoke first, as though she had sensed Sam's reason for coming. "Go away Sam." She told him, though he could sense that her heart wasn't behind her words. "I don't want to talk about it."

Sam sighed; not once in his life had he met a girl as stubborn and as beautiful as Laura Chapman. But, then again, not once had he ever heard of a boy too afraid to open his mouth and tell someone how he felt. "Look, Laura, I know I'm probably not the smartest guy in the world, or the best guy to come to whenever you have a problem but maybe I can help." He stepped closer to her. "I mean-"

Laura turned away before Sam could get too close. "No, you can't help." She told him frankly. She looked back at him with the strangest look on her face that Sam couldn't place for a moment; when he finally could place it, he saw that it was the look of someone who had given up completely and had almost accepted that fact. "But that's all right," she told him almost lightly, "you can't understand."

"Maybe I could understand if you'd just tell me what's bothering you." Sam took another step toward her. "What I don't understand why you won't just tell me."

Laura looked at him, almost accusingly. "Because you couldn't understand." She declared, her voice wavering. Inside, she hated herself for not being able to tell him of the stupid fears and reservations that had ruled the better part of her life; she hated herself for not being able to leave the armor that her mother had forced her into.

Sam looked at her with a look of helpless confusion that broke Laura's heart into more pieces then she was already trying to put back together. She had seen that look before, on her father's face as he had walked out the door eleven years ago, the look of someone giving up for good. No, Laura wanted to say to Sam, please don't leave me; don't give up, not yet. She wanted to throw her arms around his shoulders and never let go; she wanted to tell him everything.

But instead of doing those things, Laura turned away again, putting her back to Sam. Sam wanted to hold her against him until she figured out that whatever she was afraid of didn't matter anymore.

"When you were growing up," Laura said suddenly, catching all of Sam's attention, "did you ever feel like everything that mattered in life would just go away? You'd wake up one morning and it would all be gone?" She didn't know what she was saying, she didn't know she was saying this to him now. But, somehow, she couldn't stop herself from speaking and turned back to face Sam once more, tears shining in her eyes. "Because I did."

Sam stared at her, unsure of what to say and wanting nothing more then to pull her to him and never let her go again. Silence seemed to be the best answer to Laura's question because she remained where she was, searching him with her eyes. "My father left when I was six." She told him. "I came home one day from school and found him sitting in the living room, surrounded by suitcases, holding my little sister and just crying. I knew what he was going to do and I begged him to stay but-" she sighed deeply, a single tear slipping down her cheek, "he wouldn't stay. Not for me."

A minute of silence passed as Sam waited for her to say anything more, waited for something to break the spell that seemed to have been placed over him keeping him from going to Laura. "And my mother," she continued then, "spent eleven years managing to convince me that, somehow, everything that ever happened to her was my fault. And I spent eleven years trying to convince her that I was the perfect daughter, that she didn't have to leave too." More tears fell then and Laura hated herself for crying them but, at the same time, she felt a sense of relief.

Sam stepped closer to her then, feeling as though everything was suddenly perfectly clear; a part of him felt terrible for forcing Laura to release this part of herself but at least now he understood. He understood that she pushed him away because she was afraid of losing him. He wrapped his arms around Laura and pulled her against him, kissing the crown of her head. "No, Laura," he whispered, "you'll never loose me."

Laura stiffened up and pulled away from him, regarding Sam wearily as though she didn't trust anything that he said. "No." She said simply as though that would explain everything, stepping back. "That's not true."

Sam closed the gap between them, trying to pull Laura against him once more. "Yes it is; I love you Laura." He told her, kissing her forehead. The words were so much easier to say now that he knew how badly she needed to hear them.

Hot tears rolled down Laura's cheeks as she pushed Sam away from her, shaking her head, her curls falling down her cheeks. Sam held her, despite the weak blows she was delivering against his chest. Laura tried to twist away from him, curling her fingers into shaking fists and striking him against his chest.

Sam whispered the same words to her over and over again, telling Laura that he loved her as though if he said it enough times she would believe him. Finally, Laura's arms dropped to her side as she fell to her knees, hanging her head, her shoulders shivering with unsuccessfully repressed sobs. Sam knelt in front of her, wrapping his arms around her shaking shoulders and pressing her face against his chest. This time Laura didn't protest, holding him tightly as she buried her face against his shoulder, swallowing deep breaths in an attempt to quell her tears.

"It's all right." Sam whispered, stroking her head and freeing her long curls from their messy ponytail. "It's okay." He kissed Laura's forehead and her temple, hoping that his words find their mark.

Laura remained against him for how long Sam didn't know, appearing to cry herself out until she had no more tears. Sam had stopped whispering to her and just held her in silence, feeling her breathing against him.

"I'm sorry." Laura mumbled finally, pulling away from him and staring down at the floor, as though she was too ashamed to look Sam in the eyes. "It's just...I know it's stupid but..." she finally looked up at him. "I was so afraid."

Sam gently trailed his fingers down her cheek, wiping away her tears. He knew that he had never loved her more then he did in that moment. "Laura, I love you." There was so much more he could have said at that moment, but somehow it didn't seem necessary. Now that he had finally told Laura how he felt, he wanted nothing more then to tell her for the rest of his life, to assure her that she never had to worry again.

Laura looked almost hesitant for a second before she leaned closer to him, their foreheads touching. "I love you too, Sam." She whispered and kissed him lightly. "I love you." She kissed him again, slipping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

Sam was so surprised by her confession for a second that he couldn't move, couldn't think of anything but her lips against his, hearing her voice in his head over and over again. He knew that he could never tell her just how much he loved her, how much she meant to him but he hoped that Laura understood, that unspoken promises were still promises.

Allowing himself no further time to think about whether Laura knew how much he loved her, Sam kissed her, on her cheeks, her forehead, her lips, down her neck and through the thin fabric of her sweater. Laura ran her fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head and pulling him closer to her; she knew that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved Sam and suddenly she wasn't afraid to admit it. And, for the first time in her life, she knew without a doubt that she was loved, that Sam loved her.

Laura pulled away from him and smiled faintly, running her fingers down Sam's cheek and across his chest. Sam kissed her lightly on the cheek as Laura wrapped her fingers around the loose fabric of his shirt and slowly lay on her back against the carpet, pulling her down with him.

As Sam looked at the girl he knew he was going to love for the rest of his life, he thought about how beautiful she looked at that moment, with her hair fanning out behind her, her eyes sparkling once more, only for him. And, as Laura started kissing him once more, Sam stopped thinking all together.