Here's my take on 6x17 & 6x18. I'm planning on having Brooke track down Jack in the next chapter to fill in what we didn't see in the second half of the episode. I'm trying to work through many of the pre-existing storylines quickly cause I think it'll be more interesting once Sam's arc ends in the show and I'll have the freedom to come up with unique storylines of my own! As always, features a lot of real dialogue from the episode:)
"Sam, I asked you a half hour ago to do the dishes," Brooke sighed when she exited her room and found the same pile of dirty plates and silverware overflowing in the sink. Yesterday had been a stressful day for Brooke, and all she'd wanted was to get her mind off of things by distracting herself with work while Sam helped her straighten up the kitchen a bit.
"I said I'd do it later," the teenager whined from the couch. She was busy watching her show and had no desire to take time out of her day to do chores.
Huffing in frustration, Brooke marched over to the couch and snatched the remote from the arm rest. "I want you to do it now please," she said in a serious tone as she turned off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!"
"You can finish watching when you're done with the dishes," Brooke said with a hand on her hip. Her patience was running thin quickly. She had been upset and irritable ever since her conversation with Julian less than 24 hours ago, and she was in no mood to fight with the 15 year old.
Sam groaned loudly and gave Brooke a dramatic eye roll. "Why can't I just do the dishes later? They're not going anywhere," she mumbled sarcastically.
"Samantha," Brooke warned.
Sam cringed at Brooke's tone and begrudgingly got up off the couch. "Fine, I'm going," she said with a melodramatic sigh. She could tell that it was not a good time to tick her foster mom off. Clearly Brooke was in a sour mood, and Sam decided that she was done trying to push her.
Brooke stomped back off to her room once Sam reached the sink. Ordinarily, she didn't bother assigning chores, and on the rare occasions when she did, she wasn't strict over when they got done. Today was different though. Today, she needed to have some control in her life. She wanted the peace of having a clean kitchen, and she wanted Sam to listen to her the first time she asked her to do something. Why couldn't people just listen to her and behave how she wanted them to? Had Julian not uttered those three little words to her yesterday, maybe she wouldn't be so temperamental…
"I love you."
He'd said it with so much confidence that caught Brooke off guard. And then when she'd freaked out, he'd doubled down.
"You have my word. Never again will I say the words, 'I love you.' Even though I do in fact love you. I love you, I love you, I love you!"
"Quit it!" Brooke shrieked as she slammed her bedroom door. Her heart was hammering inside her chest over his confession. Why couldn't he understand that it was too soon?
That wasn't even the worst of it. Instead of leaving, Julian had stuck around while she showered and tried again. He had figured out that Lucas was the last person she'd been in love with, and he'd accused her of being too scared to let anyone else in.
"I think you do love me… or you could love me. But you're just too stubborn and scared to admit it because the last time you really gave your heart to someone it got broken. And I get that, I've been there. But somewhere along the line you gave up on the idea that you deserve to feel this way again. But you don't see what I see, Brooke. You deserve this. So I'm gonna try one more time. I love you. I'm in love with you. I'm so lost and completely in love with you. I have been ever since I saw you doing that ridiculous Molly Ringwald dance."
"Julian…I," Brooke tried desperately to let him down easy. "I care about you so much," she said sincerely.
Julian looked at her with sad eyes. It was clear that she wasn't ready to say it back."Never let it be said that Brooke Davis is easy."
Brooke felt her eyes well up. "Julian."
"I'm sorry, that wasn't fair," The producer swallowed. "You know what? It's okay. Someday, you'll let someone in. Today's just not that day."
"I don't want this to change anything," Brooke said, worried that her relationship was about to crumble before her eyes.
Julian looked at her meaningfully. "No it won't, it won't," he assured. "You know, you were right, it's my fault. We were just having fun and I just… you overwhelmed me a little bit. It's too soon." Of course he didn't actually believe any of that, but he could tell that pushing any harder would only cause problems.
"It is a little too soon," Brooke agreed quietly.
"Yeah, I know. I'll tell you what, why don't you go get ready for dinner? We'll pretend the last hour never happened."
Brooke looked at him with confusion. "Are you sure? I mean, can we really do that?" She asked. There was no way they could just undo everything that had just happened, right?
"Yeah," Julian said, trying to come across as genuine. "In fact, in the movie business we do it all the time. It's called a deleted scene. Go pull yourself together, Brooke Davis. You look a mess. I'll wait for you."
But the pair never ended up having dinner. Once Brooke was ready, she'd walked in on Julian taking an important phone call from the production office requesting that he come down and meet up with them immediately. Unbeknownst to her, it wasn't even a real phone call; he had pretended so that he had an excuse to leave. Brooke had called him a couple of hours after he'd left her house, and early the next day, but it went to voicemail both times. The designer was left feeling flustered and angry over the whole situation, and she couldn't help but let her emotions slip out in front of Sam.
Sam made a beeline back to the couch the second she finished scraping off the last plate and loading it into the dishwasher. She sunk back into her spot and sighed deeply as she turned the TV back on. She could tell that something was off with Brooke, and she knew it had to do with Julian. When she'd arrived home yesterday, she was surprised to find an upset looking Brooke angrily chopping onions preparing for dinner.
"Hey… you okay?" The teen asked hesitantly when she walked through the door and Brooke made no effort to greet her.
"Doing great," Brooke responded flatly.
"Okayy…" Sam said skeptically and slowly made her way further into the house. "I thought I was fending for myself for dinner tonight and you were going out with Julian?"
Brooke brought the knife down forcefully on the cutting board causing Sam to flinch slightly. "He had to go take care of something for the movie. The dinner's off."
Sam raised an eyebrow. Clearly, Brooke was upset over more than Julian canceling. There must have been some sort of tense conversation or argument that she was unaware of. Wisely choosing not to poke the bear and ask more questions, she simply nodded and turned to walk to her room. "K. Whatever. Call me when dinner's ready," she said with the same unenthused energy.
Brooke had been standoffish and annoyed ever since. Sam still didn't know what had happened, but she was getting tired of Brooke's sulking. She spent the rest of the day binging her show, and at dinner time she grabbed leftovers from the fridge and ate alone at the table while Brooke stayed pouting in her room. The mother only came in briefly to say goodnight like she always did, but other than that, the girls went the whole day without having a meaningful conversation.
Sam had trouble falling asleep that night. She couldn't help but feel hurt over Brooke's cold shoulder, especially since she hadn't done anything wrong.
Julian and Brooke better patch things up soon, she thought sadly.
The teen pulled her covers over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
The next day, Sam stood flipping through the latest edition of b davis magazine at a local Food Lion. She had walked over to the store planning to get a bag of chips and some candy, but her foster mother's name in big bold letters caught her attention and she couldn't help but peek to see what was in the magazine. She was in the middle of reading an article on the predicted fashion trends for next year when she looked up to notice a teenage boy with scruffy brown hair rounding the corner.
"Jack?" She breathed out, hardly believing her eyes. She hadn't seen him in so long and he had been ignoring her calls for weeks.
"Jack!" She called out again, running towards the boy once she realized it was definitely him. "Jack," she tried one more time when she caught up to him outside the store. The security sensors immediately started going off the second Jack stepped outside, and he stopped like a deer in headlights. The teenage boy reluctantly turned around to face his friend with a nervous look in his eye.
"Just give it to me and go, okay," Sam sighed, holding out her hand. Jack quickly reached into his bag and handed Sam a pack of hotdogs. "I won't tell, I promise, just go," she looked at him meaningfully. "Go!"
Jack hurried off right before a security guard caught up to Sam. She knowingly put her arms up and allowed the guard to snatch the hotdogs out of her hand. She'd been caught shoplifting before; she knew the drill.
"You need to come with me," the man said sternly. "We have a zero tolerance policy for shoplifters," he pointed to a large poster plastered on the side of the building that read:
Shoplifting is a criminal offense. All shoplifters will be prosecuted.
Shit, Sam thought to herself. It was just a pack of hotdogs! But she knew better than to argue.
"Come," The man urged again, and Sam reluctantly followed him back inside the store. As he led her down the aisles, he grabbed his walkie talkie and Sam could hear him telling someone that he had a shoplifter and to meet them in the backroom.
A bald man with an austere expression was waiting with his arms crossed when they reached a small room tucked away near the back of the store.
"Thanks, David. I'll take it from here," he said, glaring at Sam. David the security guard gave a short nod before heading off, leaving Sam alone with the angry looking manager.
"Take a seat please," The man said coldly, and Sam obeyed. She looked down at the ground and played with her hands in her lap, feeling his eyes burn into her as he took a seat across from her. "We take shoplifting very seriously here, young lady," he began.
"Sorry," Sam mumbled, not lifting her eyes from the floor.
"What's your name and how old are you?" He asked sternly.
"Samantha. I'm 15," she admitted quietly.
"Well Samantha," The man leaned in closer to her. "It is a criminal offense to steal. When you take stuff without paying, it hurts our business."
"I understand, I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Sam said, forcing herself to look him in the eye. She wanted to be as cooperative as possible in hopes that he'd let her off easy.
"Mhm," he sighed. "Well I'm going to have to call your folks, so could you give me your mom or dad's number to come pick you up?"
Sam bit her lip and tried not to cry. Brooke was not going to be happy about this at all. Hopefully Brooke would understand her side of the story, though. She sighed and recited her foster mom's number.
Brooke Davis sat at the kitchen island staring angrily at her phone. She'd tried calling Julian again, and her calls were still going straight to voicemail. She was beyond pissed off at him at this point. If anything, she should be the one ignoring his calls. She groaned and laid her forehead on the counter, but she jolted up when her phone rang. She assumed it was Julian finally calling back, but she was confused when it was an unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Brooke Davis?"
"Speaking."
"Good afternoon Ms. Davis. I have your foster daughter, Samantha, here at Food Lion. She was caught shoplifting and needs a guardian to come pick her up."
Brooke instantly felt her fury rise, except now it wasn't targeted at Julian. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me," she muttered. "I'm so sorry, I'm on my way right now. I'll be there shortly," she said through gritted teeth as she stood up and grabbed her car keys.
"Alright. Thank you," the manager replied. "Walk through the store to the back, we're in a little room on the left."
"Great, thanks," Brooke said before hanging up and speeding over the store more furious than she'd ever been with Sam.
Sam gulped and shrunk back into her seat when she saw an enraged looking Brooke turn the corner to the room with daggers shooting out of her eyes. She felt the pit that had already formed in her stomach double in size, and she held her breath.
"What the hell?!" Brooke snapped at Sam, then she turned to the manager. "Sir, I am so sorry about this."
"It happens," He sighed and rose to his feet to face Brooke. He spent the next couple of minutes explaining the situation in detail while she listened intently.
"I'm afraid we have a zero tolerance policy for shoplifters and I really should press charges…"
"No!" Brooke quickly cut him off. "I mean, sir please… please don't press charges," she begged.
"Ms. Davis, it's store policy," he tried explaining quickly. Truthfully though, Brooke was so pissed off that he found her a little intimidating.
"I know, but please hear me out… She's been in foster care her whole life and she's been through a lot. Shoplifting is kind of like a survival instinct for kids like her and we're still working on getting rid of her old bad habits. She's a really good kid, I promise," Brooke desperately pleaded. "And trust me when I say that she will be properly dealt with at home. Once I'm through with her, she will never even think of shoplifting ever again," she added, shooting Sam a nasty glare.
Sam frowned deeper and slumped her shoulders over Brooke's not so subtle threat, but she was grateful that at least her convincing seemed to be working.
The man sighed and rubbed his bald head. He remained silent for a couple of seconds, considering her words while Brooke continued staring at him with pleading eyes. "Alright, fine," he relented after a moment. He turned to Sam, "You're free to go this time, but next time, we will be pressing charges," he said sternly.
"Yes sir," Sam replied quietly. "Thank you."
"Oh there won't be a next time," Brooke sneered and grabbed Sam's wrist to pull her up towards the door. "Isn't that right, Samantha?"
"No there won't be," Sam replied quickly. "I'm very sorry."
"Thank you so much," Brooke looked at the man and breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry again for the trouble."
"It's okay," he said. "Take care, now."
"You as well," Brooke responded politely before dragging Sam out by the wrist and silently leading her to the car.
"Brooke, I- I didn't steal," Sam desperately tried explaining on their way to the car. She knew it was no use trying to tell the truth with the manager, but now that it was just her and Brooke there was no reason to keep up the charade.
"Not another word out of you," Brooke said in a scarily low tone that sent a shiver down Sam's spine. The car ride home was filled with an uncomfortable silence, though Brooke broke that silence right when the pair walked through the front door.
"SHOPLIFTING SAM? YOU HAVE EVERYTHING YOU COULD EVER WANT, AND YOU'RE OUT STEALING LIKE A COMMON THIEF?" The mother yelled and slammed the door behind her.
"They're not even pressing charges!" Sam shot back. She knew that Brooke was livid, but she had at least been expecting her to let her explain herself before going straight to screaming.
"Because I cried and begged them not to! That is not the point, what the hell?" She continued yelling.
"Did you ever consider that maybe it was a case of mistaken identity, and that maybe I wasn't shoplifting, and that maybe, just maybe, they got the wrong person?!" At this point Sam was just as riled up.
"The wrong person with the pack of hot dogs and no receipt?" Brooke challenged.
"I don't even like hot dogs, and the thing is-"
"The thing is, you are an unfixable little smartass, who apparently is gonna do whatever she wants," Brooke ground out harshly.
Unfixable. That word made Sam instantly tense up, and her heart sank. That comment coming from Brooke cut deep. It hurt more than anything anyone had ever said to her. It hurt more than getting physically hit by other foster parents.
She turned her head when the home phone rang from the counter. It was Julian.
"Don't," Brooke said harshly when she saw Sam's gaze land on the phone. She didn't feel like talking to him anymore after the way he'd treated her.
"Hey Brooke, it's Julian. Um, I'm sorry I've been kind of out of touch. And, uh, I need to talk to you. Call me," he said over the answering machine.
Sam looked at Brooke smugly, trying not to show how hurt she felt. "That got anything to do with why you're so mad at me?" she sneered.
"No," Brooke glared. "I am mad at you because it doesn't feel like you're making any progress. You stole from me at Clothes Over Bros, and I figured, 'okay, you were desperate. You lacked guidance, you felt unloved.' So what do I do? I forgive you, I take you in, I care for you, give you anything you want, and you make me feel like an idiot!" She screamed.
"Is that what you really think? That I'm unfixable?" Sam couldn't help but circle back to that. Her voice was filled with hurt and rage, but Brooke didn't seem to notice.
"Oh, don't put this on me Sam!" She scolded. "I am not the one who got caught stealing today and then tried to lie my way out of it!"
"I'm not lying!" Sam screamed back. "And I wasn't stealing either! But you know what, whatever, believe whatever the hell you want to believe," she said angrily before turning to go to her room and slamming the door.
"Okay," Brooke said sarcastically, and she went to her room and slammed her door as well. Two could play at that game.
Sam flopped down on her bed and buried her face into her pillow, allowing silent sobs to take over and cause her whole body to shake. Things had been going so well between her and Brooke lately, and this felt like a massive setback.
