A/N: This is part 3 of 4, and it's in third-person point of view, so you get to see inside the thoughts of all the characters. I jump between Spencer's location and Sam's location until they are conjoined, to avoid any confusion about that. Warnings include: sexual reference (no actual sex scenes, though), teenage alcohol use, some cussing, and violence.
BIG NOTE on this one: The OMC, Mike, is of my own creation. I vaguely described him, and then I realized I was describing the bare essentials of someone I used to know, so I went into more detail, and he's basically based off of a real life person I used to know. So, don't take him. Period. Other than that, please enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think! It's almost over. =]

But It Wasn't Just Jealousy
Part 3

Spencer stood frozen in the doorway of his apartment, one foot in the hall and the other in the loft. He stared at the spot where Sam had been just moments before. He was unsure of what to do now. Should he go after her? Should he let her go and expect her to come back and talk when she was ready?

But then he thought about it, and realized the latter wasn't such a good idea. Sam was an angry girl, and she wouldn't come running back to him to talk anytime soon. And even if she ever did, it would be too late by then. He had to go after her; he had to find her and try to explain and beg for her forgiveness… He had to put his love for her into words somehow, to try to make her understand.

He hated himself right now, though. What had he been thinking? It was just so hard to resist something like that when a half-naked girl is right on top of you, stripping your clothes off and kissing your neck in all the right places. But he had hurt Sam – he'd hurt her bad, and he could see it in her eyes. He'd never seen her look that angry before.

He turned around and slammed the door shut behind him. He was walking back towards his clothes when the glint of metal caught his eye, and he bent down and picked up Sam's necklace. He looked at it in sadness, then picked his clothes up from the floor and began putting them on, shoving the necklace into his pocket. He kept his face somber and his eyes on the current task. Heather sat at the couch, staring at him in shock.

As he buttoned his pants, he looked over at her. "What? Are you gonna get dressed or not?"

She stood up and gathered her clothes, slipping them on quickly. "I-I'm sorry, Spencer. I didn't know…"

He stopped and turned to her, staring straight into her green eyes. "Yes, you did. I told you I had a girlfriend, and you continued anyway. I don't know what the hell your problem is, or what is wrong with you, but I don't want to see you again… ever. As far as I'm concerned, you can stay away from my apartment and away from me and Sam."

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. She didn't know what to say, so she just mumbled, "Okay…"

He took a hold of her arm and led her to the door, opening it and pushing her out into the hall. She turned and looked at him, about to speak, but he interrupted her.

"Oh, by the way – welcome to Bushwell," he said flatly, resentment in his voice. Then, the door was slammed shut again. Heather winced against the sound, then turned towards her apartment, defeated, and went back. She'd have to start packing again tonight.

Spencer rushed around his apartment, finding shoes and throwing them on, then searching for his keys. But then he remembered he'd let Carly borrow the car, and she was still at that party.

"Crap."

Sam reached the party in what felt like no time. She'd thought to herself the entire walk there, scheming and cursing names. She didn't even know the name of that girl, but she hated her with a passion, and if she could get her hands on her, she knew she'd strangle her.

Without knocking, Sam pushed open the front door of the house and stepped inside, closing it behind her. The party had seemed to pick up after she left, because now it was bustling with twice as many kids as before. Guys and girls were drinking and playing card games, as well as beer pong, and making out on the couch. Laughter echoed throughout the room. More kids kept filing in from the front door.

"Sam!"

Sam spun to her left to see a boy walking down the stairs, eyes trained on her. He rushed over to her, a smile on his face.

"Oh, hey, Mike," she greeted, forcing a smile.

Mike was a kid she knew from school who seemed to have had a huge crush on her since he moved to Seattle freshman year. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and thick, dark eyebrows, plus naturally tan skin, and seemed almost awkward at most times. He was about 6 feet tall and came from Native American decent, which was obvious when you looked at him. He'd somehow always been at whatever party Sam was at, and had always been one of the first to get very drunk, which was when he became extremely obnoxious. He flirted with Sam all the time – in school, at parties, when he saw her at Groovy Smoothie – and she was always trying to be nice and ignore him. She knew it was out of her character to try and be nice to someone; normally, she would've told him a long time ago to screw off and leave her alone, and if he didn't, she probably would've shoved him into the lockers more than a few times. However, as part of her effort to be less violent and nicer, she didn't do anything mean to the kid. She also found that she couldn't really bring herself to be mean to the kid, which was odd for her, seeing as she could be mean to just about anyone. He seemed so innocent, though, and almost helpless. He seemed inexperienced in everything that didn't involve drinking or playing drinking games, yet it seemed like he was hiding most of the experience he had in other places. He was always making really lame jokes, and often times, Sam felt embarrassed for him whenever he was in front of a group of people trying to be funny. He was always trying a little too hard to fit in, yet people hung out with him anyway, usually just because of his love for alcohol and his ability to get easy access to it. He was smart, but he didn't usually let on like he was. She almost felt bad for him, in a way. He always had that smile on his face when he saw her, and always had the same dumb crap to talk to her about.

This time, though, she was very happy to see him. He was a perfect candidate for her plan.

"What're you doing here? I saw Carly earlier, and I didn't see you. Did you just get here?" he started asking, bringing the red cup in his hand up to his mouth and taking a drink. His words were a bit slurred, and his breath smelled strongly of vodka and fruit juice.

"Uh, actually, I just ran home to get something," she lied. "But is there any beer or anything left?"

His face lit up. "There's a lot of stuff left. There's still vodka, and there's – "

"Get me some of that, would ya?" she requested, giving him as sweet a smile as she could manage.

"Okay. Do you want orange juice with it or like…"

"I don't care. You can put whatever juice you want in it. Just make sure that at least ninety percent of the drink is alcoholic," she instructed him. "I wanna get fucked up."

He smiled again and nodded. "Okay, yeah. I'll go get that. I'll be right back."

She watched him rush off to the kitchen, and once he disappeared behind a crowd of people near the fridge, she turned around and searched the many heads for Carly's. However, a vibration went off in the pocket of her pants, and she reached into it, pulling out her cell phone. Spencer's picture was displayed on the screen, as well as the name, "Spencer". She grimaced before tossing the phone to the floor, honestly not caring what happened to it. She knew it would be hard not to answer the phone after so many times, so she didn't even want it near her. She wasn't going to give Spencer the satisfaction of talking to her, or coming up with some lame excuse as to why he and this mystery girl were banging on the couch. She didn't want to hear it.

When she turned around, Mike was approaching her, a second red cup in his hand. He held it carefully, maneuvering around people and trying not to spill it. When he got to her, he held it out. It was filled nearly to the brim with orange juice, but it reeked like vodka. Sam gratefully took the cup and brought it to her lips, wincing against the taste but tipping her head back and chugging the entire cup.

Mike stared, wide-eyed, in amazement. "Um… You thirsty?"

When the last drop had immigrated down Sam's throat, she brought the cup back down and licked her lips. Almost immediately, the room began wobbling around her, and her head swirled with thoughts and emotions that she couldn't understand at such a high speed. She blinked, then looked back at Mike, steadying her eyes on him. He was looking really good now.

She smiled. "Yeah, I'm parched. Wanna get me another?"

He nodded, smiling again. "Yeah, of course! For a girl, you sure can drink…"

He took her cup and rushed back to the kitchen, returning less than a minute later with another cup just like the last one. She took it from him and drank about half of it in one swig, then looked at him expectantly. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem," he told her. "So – "

"Hey, do you wanna go upstairs or something? I think I need to lie down," Sam suggested.

Mike's eyes widened, and he stopped talking abruptly. "Sure, if-if you want. There's an empty bedroom up there, I think, if you wanna go check it out…"

"Definitely," Sam replied immediately.

He held out his hand, and she took it with no hesitation, holding the cup in her other hand. He then led the way through the crowd, pushing around and past people, until he and Sam reached the stairs. He then let her go ahead of him, and he watched her carefully as she went up the stairs. He led her to the door at the end of the hallway on the second story, opening it and flipping on the light. He let her go inside, then followed her and shut the door, locking it.

Sam sat down on the big bed, sliding her hand across the flowery bedspread. She was pretty drunk by now, and everything in her vision was shaky. Mike sat down next to her carefully, turning towards her, still smiling. She looked back up at him and smiled.

"So… how are you and Spencer?" he asked casually, looking down at the cup in his hand awkwardly.

The name sent a jolt of pain through Sam. She winced, bringing the cup to her lips and drinking more to try to rid of the pain. When she finished off the drink, she held the empty cup in her hand, staring down at her lap. "We uh… broke up… I guess."

Mike raised his eyebrows, looking at her now. "You guess?"

She nodded, tossing the cup in the direction of the small wastebasket next to the door, but missing terribly only to have it bounce off of the dresser and fall to rest on the floor. She didn't even care, though – not that she normally would either.

"We're over. That's all," she slurred, blinking away tears.

"I-I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly.

No, you're not, she thought to herself. But she said, "Yeah, thanks."

"So, you uh… looking now, or what? You just wanna stay single?" Mike started asking her. "That's what I'm doing… I figure it'd be easier to go to college wherever I wanted if I don't have any relationships here to worry about."

Sam nodded, looking up at the ceiling and sighing. "Yeah, I guess."

A few seconds passed in silence, and Sam was still staring at the ceiling, investigating the intricacies of the shapes she was seeing. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on the back of her neck, and she was being pulled forward. She looked to see Mike's face coming up fast, prepared to kiss her. There was something else in his brown eyes, but she ignored it, unable to properly interpret what it was in her drunken state. He had his hand on the back of her neck and was pulling her into him.

She was about to push him away when the image of Spencer and Heather on the couch came back to her mind. She felt anger flare up inside of her.

Sam Puckett always gets her revenge, she reminded herself.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned in the rest of the way, meeting his lips. They began kissing, deeper and deeper, and before she realized she was even doing it, her hands were tugging at Mike's shirt and the waist of his jeans. She wanted to turn her pain into pleasure as soon as possible.

Back downstairs, Carly had heard from someone that they'd seen Sam go upstairs with Mike, but she was sure Sam would be back at the loft by now. Nonetheless, she left the kitchen and began searching the living room, pushing past people and trying to find the blonde. She was a few feet from the door, turning around to go back to the kitchen since she had yet to find her best friend, when she felt something underneath her foot. It didn't feel like another person's foot, so she looked down and moved her shoe aside to see a cell phone – Sam's cell phone.

She quickly picked it up, noticing the screen read "23 missed calls", then jumped when it started vibrating in her hands. Spencer's picture appeared on the screen, so she pressed TALK and put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Sam?"

"Uh, no, Carly… What's going on, Spence? Why are you calling Sam, and why is her phone still here?" Carly asked.

She rushed back to the kitchen and went out the back door, standing on the back porch so she could hear better. She coughed at the cloud of smoke she walked into, waving it out of her face.

"I don't know. I was hoping she'd be with you," Spencer said. "But… it's a long story. I just need to find Sam."

"She went back to the loft like, an hour ago. Aren't you there? Is she not there yet?" Carly questioned, becoming worried. She hoped Sam hadn't decided to walk all the way back to Bushwell Plaza on the dark streets of Seattle.

"Yeah, she was here. But like I said, it's a long story. Just try to find her at that party, and if you do find her, keep her there till I get there," Spencer stated.

"Um… okay," Carly agreed, confused. "Is she okay, Spence?"

"I don't know," Spencer answered hesitantly.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Carly immediately snapped. Now she was worried.

"No, I – listen, if you find her, just make sure she doesn't get mad at anyone or try to beat anyone up. She's likely to go crazy on just about anybody right now, and she'll hurt them, I know she will. Please find her and calm her down. I'm getting into a cab right now and I'll be there in a little bit," Spencer explained.

Carly nodded. "Okay. I'll see you then."

She hung up the phone and stuck it in her pocket, then turned around and went back into the kitchen, pushing her way through the crowd of people to make it back to the living room. She looked around again, but to no success. So she started asking people if they'd seen her. Most of them said no, but she finally came to two people who said they had seen her.

"Where? Was she with anyone?" Carly questioned, having to yell over the loud music, laughing, and talking that filled the room.

"Um, I think she was with that Mike guy, the senior," the girl said. The boy with her nodded.

"They went upstairs. I remember him getting a really strong drink in the kitchen. Like, ninety perfect vodka and ten percent orange juice. He got her two cups, actually," the boy explained.

"Okay, thanks," Carly said, then rushed past them and through more crowds of people until she made it to the stairs.

Sitting in the cab, Spencer was almost shaking with anxiety. He was so worried about Sam. How could he be so stupid? He knew there was no way he could try to explain this or make an excuse for it, and he knew Sam had every right to be as mad as she was. But would she really go hook up with another guy at a high school party? And why? To get back at him? Or was she already ready to move on?

Thinking about Sam being with another guy, Spencer's anger began to build. He wasn't just angry about that thought – he was angry at Heather, who he wished he'd never let into his apartment, and he was angry at himself for being so easy. He made mistakes, but this was ridiculous. He didn't blame Sam for her reaction one bit. If anyone was to blame, it was himself for being so idiotic and making such a stupid mistake.

But he wasn't about to let go of Sam just like that. He wasn't going to let some sleazy teenage boy take advantage of the girl he loved, no matter how many mistakes he'd made. He was still determined to keep her safe, and at least try to keep her his.

Finally, the cab pulled up to the house, coming to an abrupt stop. Spencer handed the driver a twenty-dollar bill before rushing out of the car and running up to the front door of the house. He could hear loud music and voices from inside. He quickly turned the knob of the door and pushed it open to find a huge group of teenagers, all drinking and talking and laughing. He slipped inside and shut the door, then looked around, investigating the room. He looked for the staircase over all the heads of the kids. He found it almost immediately to the left of the front door.

He pushed his way through all the kids, ignoring the remarks of displeasure and drunkenness. He made it to the stairs and took them two at a time, reaching the top in seconds. There were a few kids scattered throughout the hallway, but they were all couples, talking or making out. To his surprise, he spotted Carly standing at the end of the hallway, motionless in front of a closed bedroom door. He rushed up to her.

"Carls, did you find her?" Spencer asked breathlessly.

Carly looked up at him, her face unsure. "Um… I don't know. I think so."

Spencer scrunched his eyebrows together, then looked at the door. A light was coming from underneath it, and he could hear some muffled sounds from inside. He recognized those sounds.

"Please tell me that's not Sam in there," Spencer muttered quietly, staring at the door with Carly.

Carly bit her lip. "There's only one way to find out…"

Spencer took a deep breath, blinking. He stepped forward and reached out, taking the doorknob in his hand. He slowly turned it and pulled it open.

He let out his breath in defeat, feeling his heart break inside his chest. He should've known.

"Sam!" Carly cried, now standing next to Spencer, staring at the same scene as he was, both of them in shock.

Spencer felt the anger rising in his chest, overtaking all the pain he felt. He'd never felt this angry before – he'd never experienced jealousy like this – and he didn't know how to handle it. What he was seeing was the worst thing he could've imagined.

Sam stared back at the brother and sister from her half-naked position underneath Mike, who had stopped and turned his head to look also. She looked about to pass out, and Mike looked confused and scared, wondering why Carly and Spencer were staring at him and Sam. He was glad he had the blanket over the bottom halves of Sam and himself.

"The hell… I thought I locked that door," he mumbled to himself.

"Carls?" Sam replied, her voice almost listless. "S-Spencer?"

In that moment, realization dawned on Spencer, and he knew this wasn't just about Sam's jealousy, or his for that matter. This was her revenge.

to be continued…