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On with the show!
Sam took a sharp breath as Brady pulled into the parking lot of Harvelle's. The place looked the same as it did when Sam saw it last. Ellen let Jo host a senior graduation party. What happened there was promised to never be mentioned; both at the party and between Sam and Jo.
That was the night their friendship officially ended.
"Dude, what are we doing here?" Sam tried to ask casually as Brady parked and shut off the car.
"Alright, promise you won't act weird?"
"No."
"I looked up things to do in Lawrence on the internet and this was one of the places that popped up."
"You web-searched my hometown?"
"Okay, so your brother may have suggested it," Brady finally admitted. Sam ground his teeth together. Dean. Of course. Brady continued: "He said it was a nice place and that you guys know the owners so we might be able to get some hookups."
"You brought me here in the hopes we'll get free booze?"
"No! I was hoping we could get free food." Brady looked over at Sam and winked.
Sam couldn't help but smile. "You're such a fucking idiot."
Brady eagerly climbed out of the car and started making his way towards the entrance. Sam followed behind him, a little nervous at what to find inside. More specifically, who. But there are several cars in the lot so at least he knew there would be other customers. Maybe if he's lucky, they'll be too busy dealing with them instead.
They grabbed two seats at the bar. Sam watched as Ellen came over to greet them.
Please don't recognize me. Please don't recognize me.
Ellen took one look at him and her face lit up like the Christmas tree still sitting in the corner.
Damn it.
"Sam!" she said. "My, it's been a while since I've seen you around here."
"Hi Mrs. Harvelle," Sam greeted sheepishly.
"Oh shut up and just call me Ellen now," she said, grabbing two glasses and setting them on the counter. "Who's your friend?"
"I'm Brady," Brady said, taking the opportunity to introduce himself. "I'm just visiting before I gotta go back to Stanford."
Ellen nodded. She saw Dean drop Sam off one day back in November and asked Mary about it. She knew what happened. She told Jo, who acted like she couldn't care less about anything that happened to Sam. That was a fun screaming match over the phone.
"So, Sam, you like living back at home?" Ellen asked, trying to make casual conversation as she poured her finest beer on tap for them.
Sam shrugged. "It's alright."
"Parents driving you crazy?"
Sam laughed. "When are they not?"
Ellen laughed back. "You boys let me know if you need anything. It's good to see you, Sam."
She went around to the other end of the bar to tend to other customers.
"Okay, who is that?" Brady asked, dragging one of the beers closer to him and taking a sip.
"Neighbor," Sam explained.
"That was way more friendly than just a neighbor."
Sam made a face. "Ew. No, dude, don't."
Brady threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, I'm just saying!"
"I went to school with her daughter, okay?" Sam tried to keep all information limited, not really wanting to get into that drama. "We were pretty close."
"She work here too?"
Sam looked around, but alas, no sign of Jo. "Nope." Thank fucking god.
"You mean I don't get to meet anyone else who knows you?"
"You met Ellen." Sam scoffed, finally reaching for his beer. "I don't really have any friends, so you're kinda shit out of luck."
Brady was confused about that. Sam had a whole friend group at Stanford. "You mean to tell me you don't keep in touch with anyone from high school or childhood?"
"Fuck no."
Brady frowned. "Figures. You don't even keep in touch with us."
Now Sam was confused. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Come on, Sam! When was the last time you called me?" Brady asked. "Or responded to a text from Becca or Zack?"
Sam looked down at his glass, suddenly feeling nauseous. He had been neglecting his friends lately. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to any of them. The realization hit Sam that he didn't even call them to wish them Merry Christmas or ask them what they were doing for New Years. It was now January and he had no idea what any of his friends were up to.
Brady continued. "You could also take a peek at MySpace every once in a while. Becca found some pics of you and Jess that she posted. She thought maybe you were still mad and avoiding her."
Sam sighed and took a long sip from his beer. He was definitely going to get wasted tonight.
Brady still kept talking. "Shit, dude, hit us up on AOL or send a fucking email! Something to let us know how you're doing?"
Sam set the glass back down on the countertop. "You really want to know how I'm doing?"
Brady made a gesture like please, the floor is yours.
"I miss her. Like really fucking bad."
"We all do," Brady tried to mention sympathetically.
"No," Sam immediately argued, "not like I do. You all can go back to school and move on with your lives! I had to come back home with no idea what to do next! Everything I worked for just stopped the night she died and everything in my life that I had going for me is just..."
"Gone?"
Sam nodded, unable to continue talking.
The tension between the two had shifted, but Brady could see that no one in the bar seemed to have a damn clue what was happening.
"Sam, I didn't come here to fight," Brady said calmly. "Your mom called me and said she was so worried about you. She wanted to know if you had been talking to us about how you're feeling because you won't talk to anyone in your family."
"Because I don't want to talk about it."
"But you have to, Sam!" Brady felt like he was begging at this point. "Becca started seeing a grief counselor at school. It seems to really be helping her process Jess' death. Maybe you can find one here and get some help."
Sam started to focus on his breathing. In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4...
"You know, Zack said Becca has been taking everything really hard too. Maybe the two of you could be each other's support system or something?"
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm the one who killed her!"
Brady felt like his head was going to explode. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?"
"If I had been there, this wouldn't have happened! I knew I shouldn't have gone on that camping trip."
"Sam, there is nothing you could have done to save her!" Brady was grasping at straws trying to reason with Sam, but my god, is his head thick. "What if you died too?"
"I wish I did," Sam snapped. "Then I wouldn't have to live with the guilt knowing I'm the reason she's dead."
Brady was absolutely speechless. There was nothing he could say to that.
Dean woke up on the wrong side of the bed. He thought he'd be generous and told Sam and Brady they could sleep off their hangovers at his place, away from Mary asking a million questions about their night out. He regretted that when the apartment door was slamming shut at four in the morning.
Not bothering to clean himself up or anything, he walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen, surprised to see Brady up and about.
"Hey," Dean greeted. "Surprised to see you and Sam made it back alive."
"Well, I did," Brady said, "Sam didn't come back with me."
Dean froze. He did a quick scan of the one-bedroom apartment. Sure enough, no Sam in sight.
"Did you drop him off at my parent's house?"
"No."
"So what happened?"
Brady shrugged. "We were at the bar, talking, shit got heavy, we took a break, I started chatting up this girl and next thing I knew, Sam had left the bar."
"And you didn't think to go look for him?"
"It's not like this is the first time he's left a party early. He'll be fine."
Dean was seconds away from punching this dude in the face. "WHERE THE HELL IS MY LITTLE BROTHER!?"
coffeeaddict13