"Sam?! Are you ready to leave now?" Carly called from below the staircase.
Sam flew down the stairs, dragging her heavy suitcase from behind, the wheels losing balancing as they were jerked down the stairs, the suitcase losing balance and tilting sideways. Sam nearly trips on the last step, Carly reaching out to grab the frazzled girl as she catches herself on the railing.
"I think i've got everything." Sam notes, patting the suitcase.
"Everything? Are you sure?" Carly laughs jokingly.
"She probably has ten pounds of bacon in there, and one pair of underwear." Freddie teases before being kicked in the shin by Sam's boots.
The three load everything into the trunk of Spencer's car, and Carly and Sam squeeze in the back, Freddie taking shotgun next to Spencer. Sam and Carly don't talk much, but Sam feels a sudden urge, creeping her hands to her head, running her fingers through her hair before swirling a few strands around her fingers, inspecting the ends.
Out of sudden, mindless curiosity, Sam pulls the hair from her scalp, inspecting the strand before tossing it onto the floor. Relief is short lived, as Sam reaches again to relieve the tension, only finding herself to want to do it again, wincing every time she pulled hair from a specific spot on her head.
"Sam, stop that!" Carly looks over, noticing the strands of hair still in her fingers.
"Sorry." Sam mumbles annoyed.
Mindlessly, Sam's fingers weave themselves back into her scalp, her hands drawn to a specific spot on her head as she subconsciously knew she was doing it, yet could not bring herself to stop, before Carly grabbed her wrist, pulling it back down into her lap before releasing it.
"Sam." Carly firmly repeats.
"What?!" She snaps again.
"If it hurts, why do you keep doing it?" She asks in concern.
Sam shrugs, looking away in shame. Pulling her hair wasn't exactly a new thing, but she didn't know exactly when it started. Last night while spending the night in Carly's room, Sam had sat up for over an hour before becoming horrified at the amount of hair actually clumped in the creases of the couch. Shamefully, she regretted every second of it as she scooped the long strands of blonde hair into a ball, and walked over to toss it in the trash, vowing that an episode like this wouldn't happen again.
Sam bit her lip, in disbelief of what she had done as she drew back her tears. But as the urge returned, Sam compulsively reached for a strand again, forgetting her promise to herself as she bit the inside of her cheek, feeling around her head for the right hair before pulling, only to become frustrated over the fact that she had done it again, beating herself up over her broken promise. And in the car, she had felt the same rush of emotions being eased temporarily by the tug of her hair from her scalp, but never permanently satisfying her.
Spencer pulls through the drive-through of the nearest restaurant to their motel, in order to be able to stay in and eat for the night, rather than paying for hotel food or even room service.
"Well, this looks a little nicer than the motel we stayed at when we visited the Dingo guys." Freddie observes upon walking into the room.
"Yeah, well now we know who NOT to ask for hotel advice." Carly smirks, gesturing to Sam.
"Yeah, I would give this place a solid four." Sam agrees.
"On what scale?!" Spencer sarcastically snaps, shocked by the high rating being given.
Sam and Carly throw their things on one bed, Spencer and Freddie on another. The group was exhausted from their six hour car ride, and was dreading the eight more they still had to go before reaching California.
Sam rolls over, feeling a wave of nausea of her body, overwhelming her to the point of tears, and sits up, trying to deep breath before she gets a head rush. She glances over at the clock. 'Two in the morning?' Sam thinks in shock.
Sam stands up, feeling more dizzy and confused, stumbling into the bathroom before closing the door behind her and hurling over the toilet, nothing but dry heaving. Frustrated, she throws herself down the door, sitting against it as she brings her face to her knees. As tears stream down her face, she tries to reason through it, and feeling a little better now that she had released some of the tension.
Over an hour, Sam curls herself into the bathtub, folding a towel beneath her head, and closing the curtain, too lazy to re-open it to shut the light off, and she shakes against the tub, the cool plastic feel of it against her warm, angry body. She closes her eyes, clenching her teeth as she furiously sobs, feeling helpless as she lay on the tub floor.
"Sam?" Carly calls, flickering the light in the bathroom.
Startled, Sam looks up at Carly, squinting her eyes to find the confused and overly concerned brunette staring down at her. Carly reaches down, helping her out of the cramped tub, standing her on her feet and assisting her out of the high tub wall.
"Sam, what's the matter?" Carly asks, wrapping her friend in a hug.
Sam's face turns bright red as she fights the tears, unable to explain in words how she felt, even to one of the most understanding of friends, but she also knew she would die if Freddie or Spencer saw her like this. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks red and tear stained, as her hair stuck to her face from the snot and tears.
Sam falls limp into Carly's arms, allowing her to comfort her as she cried, mumbling the same words over and over in a non-sensible way.
"Calm down; Deep breaths." Carly repeated, showing her how.
When Sam regained her speech, she darted her eyes from Carly's stare, shuffling her feet on the floor as she musters up the courage to speak for herself.
"I don't know how to explain it." She finally answers honestly, wiping the tears.
"It's gonna be okay, whatever it is, I promise." Carly consoles her.
Sam feels only some comfort from her friend's hold, but definitely more than she would with her own mother. She shakes in her arms, not wanting to let go, but also thinking she was weak for wanting to.
"Carls, this makes me weak, doesn't it?"
Carly shares a small laugh, shaking her head at the blonde, as she smiles.
"Absolutely not! This is nothing to be embarrassed about! Anxiety is more common than you think, and it seems as though people with anxiety are the strongest of us all. They can hold things inside them for months before having the courage to talk to anyone, and that takes a whole lot of strength." She reassures her.
Sam weakly smiles, wiping her face on her sleeve, and Carly runs a washcloth under cool water before handing it to Sam.
"I'll tell Freddie and Spencer you ordered too much to eat last night or something." Carly winks as she leaves, closing the door behind her.
XXX
"You okay kid?" Spencer asks Sam as he glances up in the rearview mirror.
"I'm fine." She replies shortly.
Sam leans over, resting her head on Carly rather than the cool car window, and buries her head into Carly's shoulder, fighting back the nausea. Sam had told the guys she caught a stomach bug, which she herself believed was starting to seem true. She bit her cheeks, and Carly reached her hand over, feeling the instant warmth of Sam's forehead against her hand.
"Sam, I think you really are getting sick." Carly whispers as Sam groans.
"Spencer, can you pull over?" Sam moans suddenly.
"On the freeway?" He asks in disbelief.
"Pull over now, please!" She snaps and Spencer responds in fear of throw-up all over the back seat of his car.
Almost instantly the car door flies open and Sam leans over, luckily on the ride side, away from all the traffic, but instead, dry heaving on the side of the road. She pukes, feeling the bitter taste in her mouth as she finishes, beginning to wipe the substance from her mouth while Carly rubs circles on her back with one hand, while holding her hair with her other.
"Here." Carly shoves her water bottle toward Sam's hand, and she gratefully takes it.
Carly was afraid for her friend being sick, the vacation they were taking becoming a bummer for the young teen. Sam rummages through her bag, finding her medicine her psychiatrist had prescribed, remembering she had forgotten to take it, and realized that the side effects may have contributed to her becoming overwhelmed and in result, throwing up on the side of the road.
"Carls, can I have your water?" Sam asks, grabbing for it again.
"What's that?" Carly asks as Sam pops the oblong pill in her mouth.
"Freddie's giving me a headache." She responds, her voice muffled.
Carly knew exactly what they really were for, knowing that Sam didn't want to have to explain it in front of the others about her "Happy Pills".
"What have I said in the last hour to annoy you?" Freddie defends.
"What have you said in the last twelve hours that hasn't made me want to hit you?" She retorts before laying across Carly's lap and tucking her seat belt under her armpit to keep it off her neck.
Sam knew that taking the medicine as soon as she remembered wouldn't really have immediate effects, but it was better than not taking it all together. She had been taking it long enough for it to be in her system, even after missing a day, but she still didn't feel as though the meds did much to help. She remembers the first few days after beginning them, and the panic attack that had come with it after telling Carly what they were for, just months after her episode in Spencer's bathroom.
She had woken up, a sharp pain above her shoulder blade and in her chest, not really aching, but more of a solid sharp pain, and as she stood up to go to the bathroom, upon standing she felt dizzy, and stumbled to the bathroom, feeling as though she couldn't balance, and was about to pass out. She vividly remembers fully convincing herself that she was dying of a heart attack.
She sat on the toilet, trying to regain her train of thought, confused to why she felt so sick suddenly, and it was then, when she felt too weak and tired to make it back, just wanting to collapse on the bathroom tile, that she called for Carly out of pure panic.
"Carls?" She cried, fear in her voice.
Carly came, only to find that Sam was laying against the tub, tears streaming down her fearful face. She had felt like she was over-reacting, but in the short time since she had gotten up, she had convinced herself that she was having a heart attack, the pain in her shoulder blade scaring her more than the panic attack itself.
"Sam? What's wrong?" She sleepily wanders in, kneeling beside her friend.
"My chest hurts right over my shoulder blade. What if I'm having a heart attack?" She sobs.
"Sam, you're in great health! There's nothing obviously wrong." She pulls Sam into a hug.
"Convince me! I've eaten five pound of fried food in the last week! Remind me again about what great health I'm in!" Sam sobs, unwillingly sarcastic.
Carly ignores the snarky response, realizing the emotion her friend felt, and brushed it off, allowing Sam to cope in her own ways.
"Sam, you're okay; I promise you're okay!" Carly repeats soothingly.
The girls sit in silence, Carly trying to console Sam while also convincing her that she was okay. Carly kneeled down and wrapped her arms around Sam, allowing to Sam to sit still quietly, as she waited out her anxiety attack, distantly spacing out at seemingly nothing.
"Carls?" She finally mutters, slightly able to feel relaxed.
"Sam, I think it's time you talk to someone more professional than just some guy your mom is dating." Carly implies and Sam doesn't argue, but reluctantly nods her head.
Carly helps Sam to her feet, walking her back to her room and allowing the blonde to fall asleep in her bed, and though Sam sought more rest, she lay awake, staring blankly into nowhere, and only pretending to be sleeping when Carly came back as not to worry her.
