A/N:This fic contains potentially triggering subject matter including but not limited to: suicidal references, gun violence, sexual trauma, homelessness, drug abuse, depression, homophobia, and cancer. It may contain inaccuracies. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading!
BOOK ONE - PART THREE - CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
"What are you, like, twenty-two now?"
"Twenty-three," Dice paused, then admitted, "You know, I don't really know any other lesbians besides you guys."
"Weird." That wasn't common in LA. Sam asked, "What is it that you do for work, exactly?"
"Well, have you heard of Dicicle-XR?" Dice asked.
"Uh, no."
"Oh. Well, we're a virtual reality company," Dice explained, "I'm the CEO. It's kind of hard to explain, but we work with detectives to re-enact accidents and robberies and murders and stuff using AI. They use it to solve crimes."
"Oh, wow." Sam was impressed. "Aren't you a little young to be a CEO?"
"I'm one of the founders," Dice replied, chuckling, "Hence the name. You missed a lot while you were gone. I got into Harvard at sixteen, and then I started Dicicle three years ago with my friend. It blew up pretty quick."
"Huh. So, the hair modeling didn't end up working out?" Sam teased lightly.
Dice chuckled and combed his fingers through his hair. "Nah, but it was a good way to make extra cash for a while. Up until we launched."
"So, you're, uh… pretty loaded now, huh?" It wasn't hard to tell—his clothes, shoes and watch looked very expensive. "Was that your Jaguar you picked us up in the other day?"
"Yeah, it's mine. She's my favorite one to take out," Dice confirmed. "Can you drive stick?"
"No," Sam admitted. She had been riding a motorcycle so long that she wasn't even sure if she could drive automatic anymore. "It's really nice, though." She eyed his ring finger. "You married?"
"No. I've been with my girlfriend Octavia for about a year," Dice explained. "Longest relationship I've had. There's not a lot of time for romance in business." He paused, then daringly continued, "What about you, then? Have you dated anyone?"
Sam raised her eyebrows. "Uh… dated? No. Cat's my first actual girlfriend. But I've been with quite a few girls, if you know what I mean."
Dice looked intrigued, and perhaps slightly impressed. "Really? How many?"
"Well, how many have you been with?" Sam challenged him.
"Six." Dice looked at her expectantly and waited.
Sam sighed. She could lie, but she didn't really see the point. "At least nineteen. I blacked out quite a few nights, those first couple years after I left, so I can't really say for sure. Most of 'em were in prison, though."
"In prison?" Dice's eyebrows shot up. "They let you do that?"
"Let us? No." Sam looked a bit sheepish and almost felt wrong talking to him about this, even though he was older now. "There were places you could go if you knew the right people. I only got caught once."
"Oh, man, you actually got caught?" Dice laughed.
Sam hesitated. She wasn't sure why, but she trusted him, even after all this time. She was more amused than ashamed of her sexual escapades. "Yeah, don't tell Cat, but… I was fucking a girl in the janitor's closet and a guard walked in. It was… not my proudest moment."
"Shit, what happened?"
"Well, um… him and another guard pulled me off of her and they sent us both to solitary for a week," Sam admitted, slightly ashamed of that part. "It's been much better with Cat, though," she joked.
Dice leaned forward in his chair, doing his best not to seem too interested. "So, you guys have actually like..?"
Sam noticed the careful placement of his arms over his lap and looked at him incredulously. "Dude, are you kidding me right now?"
Sam and Cat together had been one of his favorite secret fantasies as a teenager, and Dice couldn't help himself. He stammered for an excuse.
"You're a pervert," Sam muttered, though she was hiding a smile. "I think I liked you better when you were twelve and thought with your brain instead of your dick."
"Uh, are you kidding me? I was so into you guys back then. I tried to play it cool, but…" Dice chuckled, "I was hoping I'd walk in on something. That's why I always forgot to knock."
"Well, you'd better be careful about doing that now, 'cause you really will see something," Sam warned. "But we never did anything back then. What were you expecting to see? Did you think we just had sex all over our apartment all the time?"
"So, nothing ever happened between you two? Cat was really vague about why you left. I don't think she's ever told anyone the full story," Dice explained.
Sam bit her lip. He deserved to hear the truth. "Well, basically, I got drunk and, um, molested her, kind of. And I couldn't live with the guilt, so I left the next day."
"Oh. Whoa." Dice scoffed. "Cat told everyone you guys got into a fight over your babysitting business."
"That's what she told everyone? Oh, my God," Sam cringed, although it was admittedly better than the truthj. "Yeah, no. I almost raped her." Although Cat's memory of the incident had been different, which Sam was still puzzled by. "She was still a kid. She didn't deserve that shit. So, I did what I felt like was the most responsible thing at the time and removed myself from the situation."
"Well, yeah, but… dude…" Dice sighed, "You, like, broke her heart. She almost killed herself over you."
"I know," Sam responded remorsefully, "I never should've abandoned her like that. I'd give anything to go back and do it over again. But… now all I can do is try to move forward."
Dice nodded. "I'm really happy for you guys. It's been a long time coming."
"Uh-huh." Sam's stomach was churning. She'd eaten eight brownies. She tried to breathe through it and continue the conversation, but could already feel it coming up. "Hey, uh, can you take this?" She handed the nearly empty dish to Dice.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Dice asked in concern, setting the container aside.
Sam shook her head. Her shoulders lurched, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. Then she swallowed and managed to say, "Hand me one of those bags."
"What—seriously?" Dice scoffed, leaning away.
"Yes, seriously!" Sam urgently replied. "Now!"
Dice grabbed a vomit bag from the wall dispenser and flung it at Sam, then turned away and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself.
Sam barely got it in place in time for her shoulders to lurch again, splattering everything she'd just eaten into the bottom of the bag. Once her stomach finally managed to settle down, she coughed and croaked out, "Fuck. Sorry."
"Are you okay?" Dice peeked through his fingers at her. "Did the brownies make you sick?"
"It's the chemo," Sam explained. Her stomach churned and she knew she wasn't finished. She gagged and vomited again.
Just then, the door opened and Cat came in. She threw her purse into a chair and immediately rushed to Sam's side. "It's okay. You're okay, Sam." She pulled her hair back for her and stayed there as she continued getting sick. "Um, Dice?" Cat wasn't sure why he was there. "Do you think you could give us a few minutes?"
"Right. Uh, sorry. I'll be in the hallway." Dice let himself out of the room.
Sam managed to stop throwing up for a second. "Thank you," she croaked to Cat, feeling embarrassed. There were tears at the corners of her eyes, about to fall.
"Just try to breathe. Are you done?"
Sam shook her head.
Cat held Sam's hair with one hand and gently rubbed her back with the other. "Go ahead, Sam. I'm here; I've got you."
For the next few minutes, Sam continued to empty her stomach as Cat murmured gentle encouragements. Finally, there was nothing left. Sam stopped retching and spit into the bag a couple of times. Then she lowered it and leaned back, catching her breath. "Fuck."
Cat took the half-full bag from her and disposed of it. Then she filled a cup with water and brought it to her. "C'mon. Little sips." She sighed. "What even happened, anyways? What'd you eat?"
"Dice brought brownies," Sam muttered admittedly, motioning to the mostly empty glass dish on the counter.
"I thought you were gonna wait for me to bring you your ice cream," Cat sighed, pulling her eyebrows together.
"Well, yeah, but… I didn't want to be rude," Sam shrugged. And she had just really wanted some brownies. "Did you get the ice cream? I'm sorry, but I don't think I feel like having it anymore. Chocolate sounds gross now."
Cat went to her purse, unzipped it, and pulled out two pints of ice cream. She brought the strawberry one to Sam and unwrapped the chocolate one for herself. "Is that okay? If you just eat it really slowly? You need to have something."
"Are you sure? This one's supposed to be yours," Sam realized.
"I'm sure. Just try to keep down as much of it as you can, okay?" Cat told her. "Now, should I go get Dice? What's he doing here, anyways?"
"Oh, just visiting. Yeah, you can get him; he's actually decent company," Sam replied, straightening up a little and trying to look less dead.
Cat went to the door. "Dice?"