Scenes 7 and 8. #lovetucker2k15
Footballer's Wife
July 26, 2015
"That's what I thought," Sam spat after them. Then she turned to the boy standing next to the wall. "So…"
"So, thanks," he said truthfully but eyeing her and her nose ring warily.
"Sure," she shrugged. "Football players always need to be taken down a peg or two."
"Yeah," he agreed, straightening up and readjusting his glasses. "What?" he asked as she continued to stare at him.
"Well, you don't ever seem to do it yourself," she said.
He snorted. "Well, I don't have steel toed boots."
"All you really need is a spine," she told him.
Tucker glared at her. "Easy for you to say when you're not the one getting whaled on by the entire football team."
Sam shrugged. "Make them stop."
"Make?" he sputtered incredulously before barking out a laugh. "Make them stop?"
"You're the one with the camera," she pointed out. "You decide what you film and how you do it and what gets shown, man. That means you get to dictate a few terms."
He looked at her curiously. "And what terms do you think I should dictate, Saman—"
"Sam," she bit out before she could finish.
"Sam," he corrected.
"I didn't know you knew who I was," she said, eventually.
"Of course I do," Tucker snorted as he leaned down to pick up the bag he'd discarded by the lockers as soon as he realized his predicament. "I know all the girls in school."
"You've certainly asked enough of them out," Sam acknowledged.
"Well, what can I say?" he asked with a grin.
"And I would have though you'd been turned down by enough of them," she added.
His mouth twitched. "If at first you don't succeed…" he quipped with dying humor.
She canted her head. "But you didn't ask everyone."
He looked up at her from the corner of his eye. "Not quite," he admitted, shifting in place.
"I know," she said. "You've never asked me."
"And… I don't plan to," he said slowly.
"Why?" she demanded, bristling. "You think I'm lacking adequate female parts? That I've got too many piercings? Or that I'm too smart to go out with anyone just because they asked so you're saving yourself the pain? Or you think I'm not—"
"Whoa!" Tucker exclaimed, hands up. "Uhh, no, lemme stop you right there if I can," he interjected into her breathless rant. "It's because you scare me," he confessed. "Okay?"
Sam blinked. Visibly backed down. Then grinned. "I wanna talk business with you."
They walked into Lancer's class together, late enough to earn them a black mark that Tucker didn't even try to argue his way out of. Their detention was spent in adjoining desks, brainstorming what could be done to improve the situation.
The filming situation. Not the being stuck in detention one which didn't seem to bother either of them at the moment.
Tucker pulled his folder out of his backpack and handed it over, worrying his lip as Sam's slender hands flipped through it. She didn't make a sound but turned page after page, leaning forward and scanning each line until Tucker couldn't take it anymore.
"So?" he asked anxiously.
"This is good," Sam said.
A sigh of relief. "Thanks."
"No, like this is really good," she clarified. "You could formally incorporate with the stuff you have in here."
"I could… what?" he stared at her in shock.
"Of course, the first thing that needs to happen is to come up with some alternate sources for your filler," she decided.
"My filler?"
"Please," she began, and he got the feeling that she rarely used the word. "Let's have less football and fewer cheerleaders."
Tucker held up a hand. "Hey, I'm all down for less football. The less I have to film Dash the better, but…"
Sam glared at him, quashing any desire he had to put up a fight for the right of more scantily clad, aesthetically pleasing preppy girls.
"Okay, fine," he huffed dejectedly. "Fine, no more interviews with Paulina," he said before trailing off by grumbling something unintelligible.
"What's that?" Sam asked sharply.
"Nothing," he protested quickly. "I mean, you better have ideas for how to fill up the time I'm producing now. Cause I can't back down on what I'm already doing…" he warned.
Sam smiled slowly, reminding him just why he had been keeping his distance from the girl ever since they started attending the same school. "Oh, trust me, I have tons of ideas."
"Really?" he asked, part of him curious and the other part of him really, really not wanting to know.
"Yeah," she replied. "First thing that's gonna happen is a school wide response to a change in the lunch menu."
Tucker perked up. "Ooooooh," he said. "I could get down with that. Finally get something decent in the cafeteria. So when are you thinking?"
"It'll happen tomorrow. First thing after they announce it, I expect. So you should probably bring an extra battery or two."
"Wow," he leaned forward. "You… already got the board to approve the change? Or you bribed someone to let you make the announcement just to see what happens? See if we can implement a change with some reverse psychology? That's awesome, actually."
"No, it's all set," Sam answered serenely, closing the cover of Tucker's folder and handing it back to him.
"Really?"
"Yep, full recyclovegetarian line starts tomorrow."
Tucker blinked. "What's that?"
"It's organic matter that eschews the products and byproducts taken from animals." When she was met by a completely blank stare, she rolled her eyes and clarified, "I don't eat anything with a face."
"But… cows have faces. And pigs and chickens and stuff…" Tucker said slowly.
"Right, so like I don't do meat."
When the truth finally set it, Tucker gaped at her, unable to even string together words.
Sam started laughing at the look of utter horror on his face, a clear melodic sound that would have surprised him if he hadn't been busy learning the true depths of what it felt like to be well and truly sucker-punched.
To be continued.