Title: Why Does This Keep Happening to Me

Author: carpesomediem


Fandom: Popular

Characters: Sam/Brooke

Rating: G

Warnings/Spoilers: Everything belongs to Ryan Murphy; I just bring the characters out to play.  Spoilers for "Windstruck."

Summary: Sam contemplates why she keeps freaking out about Brooke.

Sam didn't understand it at all.  No matter how hard she tried, no matter how hard she tried to keep her mouth shut, she always managed to be a part of something that would cause even more tension between herself and Brooke.  Brooke was a part of her life, her social circle and her family, she accepted that - even if she didn't share that fact with the world - and she wanted to try and keep things as cool as could be between the two of them.  Of course, this was all beneath the surface, she'd never admit she wanted to be friends with Brooke let alone... possibly, somewhere deep down inside, more.

"Why does this keep happening to me?" Sam cursed in her head as she stormed into the Novak before realizing she was not alone.  While she was best friends with Carmen, she really was one of the last people she'd want to play therapist for her.  Especially at this very moment, but what choice did she have?  She was coming apart at the seams and wanted to rip out her hair.

All because Josh was a little too happy to have her sitting in his lap.  That's what it came down to in her mind, not Josh having a gun in his pocket, but that something revolving around Brooke always manages to bring her day to a standstill.  Some days, it was as simple as Brooke making it into the bathroom first, others it was a scathing editorial that had the Glamzons up in arms and in her face, and on days like today, it was Josh Ford being, well, Josh Ford.

If Sam managed to stick around for longer than thirty seconds, she would've realized that Josh, too, was confused by the arousal.  Embarrassment washed over his face, not because he'd been excited over her, per se, but more so because he'd been excited in public and now he couldn't get up from his stump.  But, no, Sam ran off as she normally did in situations that confused, overwhelmed and frustrated her.  She didn't look behind her, she kept her head down and she ran for the first place she could find cover: The Novak.

Lately, Brooke frustrated her in more than one way, and she couldn't quite put her finger on exactly why.  More than anything, she wanted Brooke out of her life, but in reality, she was slowly becoming increasingly interested in keeping her within arm's reach.  She didn't know how it happened or why it was happening, but every so often she had an epiphany about Brooke McQueen, and today was not one of those days.

What ifs ran rampant in her mind, and all she could see at the end of the tunnel was a face-to-face confrontation that ended like something out of a daytime soap opera.  Sam drifted into the what if she most dreaded, along the lines of this:

"It didn't mean anything!" Sam threw her hands in the air.  "I'm so tired of defending myself!  It's your horny boyfriend's fault!"

"How is this Josh's fault?  You were the one sitting in his lap!" Brooke pointed out.  "And he is anything but horny."  Sam didn't hear that last part.

"So?  I only did it, because it's what Cokie would've done-"  If Sam couldn't reason, she went on the offensive, deflected and repeated the process.

"-Who's Cokie?" Brooke rose an eyebrow, thrown off by the statement.  Sam always made it a habit to run off on tangents when she felt threatened.

"Cokie Roberts?  You've never heard of Cokie Roberts?  Go figure..."  Sam sighed, diffused.  "She's a journalist.  Ms. Ross said Cokie Roberts would've-"

"-Sat on Josh's lap?" Brooke finished the sentence venomously, crossing her arms and waiting for Sam to explain further.  They were standing in the doorway to Sam's room a few days after the incident when word finally spread throughout Kennedy thanks to Carmen.  At least Sam learned never to tell Carmen anything, ever again.

"Something like that."  Sam shrugged, tired of fighting.  She was tired, had more homework than she knew what to do with and a headache was threatening to spill out of her skull.

"I don't get it," Brooke replied, confused, "I fail to see how Cokie Roberts wanting to sit in Josh's lap has anything to do with you sitting in his lap."  Sam chuckled before she could stop herself.  "What's so funny?"

"Nothing.  You had to be there," Sam said.  She didn't know how to explain it.  "Look, I'm tired.  Can we talk about this later?"

"What?  After you're done seducing my boyfriend?  Are you going to tell me when that happens or do I have to wait for the Reader's Digest e-mail version to come out?"

"I wasn't trying to seduce Josh," Sam explained for what seemed like the hundredth time.  "I was interviewing him."

"Sure..." Brooke didn't mean to tease the brunette, but it came all too easily when she felt as if the journalist was pushing her against a wall.

"I wasn't!" Sam exclaimed, flustered, "I swear I wasn't!  I have absolutely no interest in Josh Ford."  One simple word ignited Sam's temper, and she paced into her room before turning back to face Sam, her fists balled.  "I have no interest in anyone who's been with you."

"And who exactly do you have an interest in?" Brooke asked pointedly, continuing her teasing.


Neither expected that response.

Sam snapped out of her daydream as a Carmen waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention.

"Earth to Sam?  You in there?" Carmen kept waving, and Sam caught her hand mid-air.  It took her a few seconds to get her bearings, she shook her head and began pacing.

"Yeah."  She sighed, shrugged and stopped to face her friend.  "You're never going to believe what happened during my interview..."  A red blush overcame her cheeks, and she began relating the tale that was sure to be her next demise.


New Stories

Author & Genre

Main Index