Chapter 27
27
“U gh.” Sam slid her headphones off.
And while her own music had turned off, Pearl and Jessie scream-sang the words to “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac from the living room. The iconic song about losing the love of your life felt a little too on the nose to Sam and Damon’s situation, to be honest. She held a hand to her forehead. Maybe it was the hurricane punch, or the lack of any kind of proper pitch to the women’s voices, but the noise was unpleasant.
Was Bonnie singing along with them? Dancing on the couch like nothing had changed? Casting a spell over Pearl to make her believe that all was well and she didn’t have to hold any kind of grudge?
A loud crack sounded outside the window, like a branch falling from a tree. The singing in the living room stopped and Pearl called out, “You okay, Sam?”
“Yeah, probably just a palm frond.” Sam’s eyes darted to the window, wishing she could catch a look outside. They’d find out in the morning where the branch had fallen, and if there was any damage.
“I’ll go check on her,” Bonnie said.
Sam was about to repeat that she was fine, but Pearl chimed in. “Leave her be. She needs her space.”
“She’s had nearly twenty years of space, Mama,” Bonnie replied.
“Whose fault is that?” Pearl’s tone was firm now.
“Partially yours,” Bonnie fired back. “Do you want me to remind you of the conversation we had?”
“Letos, please.” Jessie tried to be the mediator.
And this was how it always was. Pearl and Bonnie fighting over Sam. Nothing had changed.
Sam blinked hard. She didn’t want to be part of this fight as a teenager, let alone now as an adult. Hearing her mom and grandma bicker triggered some kind of ancient response, and Sam pulled her knees into her chest. This was why she’d moved so far away from home, so she’d never have to think about being in this room and hearing the chaos outside it.
Her gaze landed on the CD player. Her old friend. Her creature comfort. The energy of the last vision must have been some kind of blip; watching Damon and Myles in a tug-of-war over her was not all that fun. She needed a palate cleanser before bed. She’d listen to another song and by the time it was over, maybe the fight outside her room would be, too. And maybe the next thing she saw would be Alt-Sam in flight school...
She shook out her shoulders and readjusted the headphones. She was ready to hear the next song that would show her the future she could’ve had. So she reached for the play button and hit it.
When Avril Lavigne’s “My Happy Ending” started, Sam flinched. The song was about the opposite of a happy ending—more like the end to a relationship that was supposed to be perfect. What was she about to be tossed into?
Her eyes slowly opened, and she found herself in a booth at a bar.
She turned around and it didn’t take long to spot the ponytail of long red hair seated at the booth next to hers. And there, next to Alt-Sam, was Damon, wearing distressed skinny jeans and a black vest over a white tee. Alt-Sam fit snugly into the crook of Damon’s arm, but still wore glasses.
Why would Alt - Sam have glasses if the surgery happened?
“It’s nice to see you two cozied up, but can we talk about the eyesight thing?” Sam asked. “How are we doing there?”
Alt-Sam and Damon were cuddled up, but they weren’t talking. The way Damon rubbed the same spot on her neck over and over again, like he was trying to work something out, made them seem...off...
“Ah shit.” Sam slumped onto the top of the booth. “Please be wrong, please be wrong.” She waited for one of them to speak and, eventually, they did.
“Are we okay?” Alt-Sam asked.
Damon looked down at her, slipped his arm off from around her shoulder. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Alt-Sam sat up stiffly. “I think you’re feeling weird about being at the opening of your sister’s bar.”
Alt-Sam reached for the bowl of popcorn in the center of the round table. Next to the bowl was a Grand Opening placard, with the words, “Sister Brews” surrounded by celestial stars and a crescent moon. The logo was witchy and feminine, and so different from the Band Practice Brews Damon and Farrah had opened together.
Alt-Sam continued, “You both talked about doing this. It was basically your idea—”
“That’s not why I’m mad,” he cut her off.
“Okay, so you are mad,” Alt-Sam said.
“You just seem so distant lately. And whenever I ask what’s wrong, you say nothing. But I know you, Sam-Sam. Tell me what’s going on,” Damon pleaded.
Alt-Sam chewed a handful of kernels, either ignoring or not hearing Damon.
“Sam, look at me.” He lifted her chin up.
“Nothing is wrong. I’m just feeling a bit down.” Alt-Sam scratched at the surface of the wooden table and didn’t meet Damon’s eyes.
“Talk to me.” He grabbed her hand, but she pulled away.
And then, like the vulture he was, Myles planted his hands firmly on their table. He wore shutter sunglasses and a trucker hat. “Hey there, boss.” His words were slurred.
“Hey,” Damon replied for Alt-Sam.
Alt-Sam eyed Damon, maybe annoyed. “I told you not to call me that,” she said, definitely annoyed.
“This is a party,” Myles continued, oblivious. “You should be having fun. I mean, did you see the giant pi?ata in the shape of an old lady?”
“That’s supposed to be a witch,” Damon said.
Alt-Sam allowed a small smile to cross her face. “You are literally too stupid to insult.”
“Wait a minute. Did you just quote The Hangover ?” Myles raised his beer to her in acknowledgment, then he finally looked at Damon. “Later, dude.”
“That guy is an asshole,” Damon said.
“Maybe we should go home.” Alt-Sam grabbed her absolutely enormous black purse from the seat and moved to leave, but Damon blocked her with his arm.
“It’s Farrah’s opening night. We can’t go yet. And you didn’t tell me what’s going on with you,” Damon added.
Alt-Sam tried to leave the booth again. This time, Damon let her, but he followed closely behind.
“Come on,” he tried again.
Alt-Sam stopped in a small archway, away from the crowd of people and private enough for the two of them to tuck into.
Sam blew out a big breath that rattled her lips. There was a lot to delve into, but she didn’t have the context. She felt like she was trying to navigate a flight without a map. “Maybe just kiss and make up? Isn’t that what couples do?” she offered. But, she had no experience being part of a couple, so what the hell did she know?
Alt-Sam scratched at a spot on her forehead, then shook out her hands. “I’m going to be honest, okay?”
“Okay,” Damon said as he leaned against the wall.
Eventually, she said, “I feel...stuck.”
“Stuck?” Damon asked.
Alt-Sam sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about this here. Can we just go home?”
“Is this about the surgery?” Damon instinctively wrapped her in a hug. “The doctor said she could try again, in time.” Alt-Sam eventually hugged him back, but her eyes looked off, lost in thought.
Oh, God. The surgery hadn’t worked?
“Statistically, if it didn’t work the first time, it won’t work the next time, either.” Alt-Sam pulled back from Damon, then hunched into herself, as if self-conscious about saying the words out loud. “I was supposed to be in flight school by now. I mean, what am I even doing? I’m working at an ice cream shop. I can’t afford to go to school. Like...am I just supposed to be serving people sundaes for the rest of my life?”
“This is all my fault,” Damon said. “If I hadn’t gotten us into that accident...”
Alt-Sam shook her head and wiped a tear that rolled down her cheek. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m just sad.”
“My sister said you could bartend here, remember?” Damon rubbed a spot on her arm, but Alt-Sam’s eyes fluttered in irritation.
“Okay, so instead of ice cream it’s somehow better if I’m serving beer? That’s not what I want, Damon.”
Alt-Sam pushed out of the corner and made for the front door. Damon was, once again, chasing after her.
“Well, what do you want?” he asked as they left the bar and poured out onto the sidewalk. It was dark and an overhead light shone on them like they were in an interrogation room. A Jeep drove by and “My Happy Ending” blared from the speakers at an annoyingly loud volume.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Alt-Sam said, her voice so low and sad it was almost hard to hear her.
Damon pulled back and studied her. “Can’t do...”
Alt-Sam’s face shifted into a kind of pained grimace. She seemed to weigh her words carefully, but eventually said, “I can’t be here. I feel like I’m disappearing. It’s like what happened to my mom.”
Damon frowned.
“I love you, Damon, but I can’t keep acting like everything is okay. I’m not okay. Something is very wrong. I’m broken. I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone who will be happy here.”
Even in the dark, Alt-Sam’s eyes clearly glistened with the threat of tears.
“But we love each other.” His voice was so tender, and the statement so pure, that Sam’s breath caught.
“I know. I know that.” Alt-Sam rubbed her temple.
“We’ll figure this out.” Damon’s fingers wove through Alt-Sam’s loose strands of hair, and she pressed her cheek into his palm. “And you’re not broken, but you’ve been through a lot. Can you go to therapy, like you promised?”
Sam’s chest was so heavy with confusion that it was almost as if she was sinking into the ground. Only, she did slip into the nothingness as she was sucked out of the vision to Avril Lavigne’s resigned words ringing through the headphones.
Sam’s eyes flew open and she was surrounded by the duvet, and the darkness of the room and the light coming from the flashlight at her side.
There was a strikingly loud boom of thunder and Sam jumped. Even through the headphones, she heard the whip of wind slam against the side of her grandma’s house. The whole place shook from the next crack of thunder. She’d been through worse hurricanes, but it’d been so long that the sensations and sounds all felt new. She tucked her legs into her chest and let out a deep breath.
What the hell had she just seen with Damon and Alt-Sam? Her younger self was trying to end their relationship, but that didn’t make sense. Why would she be shown something like that? How was the vision any better than where she and Damon were now?
Unless it was just a bump in their road together. There were thirteen total songs on the CD, which meant there were only two more left. She wouldn’t know how Alt-Sam and Damon turned things around unless she listened to the next song. She opened her notebook, took her pen and wrote down the new tracks.
SAM AND DAMON’S MAGICAL PLAYLIST
Track One: “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence. Otherworldly song about being understood by another human. Tybee High parking lot. Questionable amounts of eyeliner. Alt-Sam kisses Damon. Missing earring is found.
Track Two: “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” by The Darkness. A bop about being head over heels for someone. Alt-Sam and Damon are officially dating. Myles continues to disappoint. Marissa didn’t have an awkward phase in high school. JanSport backpacks are timeless.
Track Three: “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse. Inarguably the best song and movie scene pairing ever. Damon and Alt-Sam make out during Twilight and get kicked out. One too many hickies.
Track Four: “Want You Bad” by The Offspring. A banger about a bad boy wanting to corrupt a good girl. Myles gets owned by Alt-Sam. Damon skips detention. Alt-Sam skips her extracurricular. I miss Dunkaroos.
Track Five: “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy. A song about a guy meeting someone he likes at a school dance, and the angst of trying to desperately impress them. Damon tries to impress Alt-Sam and they get into A GODDAMN CAR CRASH. Soffe shorts. Condoms from Pearl. Looks like I never get to go to prom.
Track Six: “Fell In Love With a Girl” by The White Stripes. Can I ever hear this song again and not think about Alt-Sam and Damon sneaking around (??) and probably having sex (??). Alt-Sam’s vision problems continue AND she’s getting a C on an essay?
Track Seven: “Read My Mind” by The Killers, which is all about uncertainty. Makes sense, since in Alt-Sam’s high school graduation, I’m not valedictorian and waiting on a surgery to get into flight school.
Track Eight: “Over My Head” by The Fray. Written about a fight, where one person was totally out of their depth. Alt-Sam is pregnant and moving in with Damon. Maybe they’re not ready to be parents?
Track Nine: “Maps” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Damon’s starting nursing school and not a brewery. Wanting someone to stay is the theme of the song, and maybe Damon wants Alt-Sam to know he’ll stay by her side and through the miscarriage?
Track Ten: “The Curse of Curves” by Cute Is What We Aim For. Myles at the ice cream shop being a little too friendly with Alt-Sam, much like the song suggests. Eye surgery set for the next day. Damon and Myles acting like weirdos.
Track Eleven: “My Happy Ending” by Avril Lavigne. Saw anything but a happy scene. Alt-Sam and Damon at Farrah’s bar’s opening night, big fight. Eye surgery didn’t work. Damon asked Alt-Sam to see a therapist.
Sam shook out her hand, so unused to writing that even those few lines made her fingers cramp. She couldn’t see a pattern. Or rather, she didn’t understand why the last few songs had sad memories when the other universe was meant to show that she and Damon were fated. She understood no one was perfect, and even the best couples had rough periods.
“But what am I missing?” Sam asked to the room.
She took her phone out and tapped the screen, but there were no new messages.
What she was missing—in this life at least—was a reply from Damon. And the realization of that hit her like the loud booms of thunder just outside her grandma’s home.