Title: Becoming of Age

Author: Megan

Email: shy_grrl@hotmail.com

Chapter Three

Father

"Sam... what do you think of my father?"

"How do you mean?"

"Do you think he is a good man?"

"Uhhum."

"No, I mean seriously. What do you think of him as a man?"

"What do you want me to say Brooke?"

"I want you to tell me what you think of him! God!"

"Fine. He's a..."

"And don't say what you think I want to hear."

"Okay. I think..."

"Say what you mean."

"All right! Can I talk now? Thanks. He..."

"But bare in my mind I already..."

A pillow hits me smack in the head. I glance over my shoulder at the girl sitting on her bed, "Can I talk now?", Sam says. I spread my arms and glare at her for a second before returning to the task of painting my nails, "He does..."

"Who's stopping you?"

"YOU ARE!", she screams, making my hand twitch so that there's now a light blue streak decorating my index finger, "Stop doing it if you want my answer!", she sighs deep, and I shake my head a little. Thanks Sam. I grab a tissue from the box on her table, "And stop shaking your head. I think your father has changed for the better."

"You do?", I ask surprised.

"Sure", she goes on, "He's not half the nazi he was four years ago, when your mother left. And he smiles sometimes, and even jokes around with us."

I guess, "What else?"

"Well, I don't think he still loves you nearly as much as you'd deserve..."

"No, I mean good qualities", I cut her off. Don't wanna get tangled in the whole love issue, "What else is good about him?"

"He... has a sense of responsibility. I mean he didn't give up when your mother left. He still looks after you", Sam keeps talking. I decide that the paint isn't going to come off without water, "I don't know Brooke", she sounds frustrated, "Why are you asking me?"

"No reason", I shrug and turn around to face her, "You know, maybe I should paint my whole hands blue. What do you think?"

She grins and falls down on the bed, "I bet Josh'd like it."

Again with Josh. There's been no end to it since I started dating the guy, "I bet Josh wouldn't even notice", I answer and stand up.

Sam stares at the roof silently. She's thinking something important. Otherwise she'd never let a Josh comment pass without a reply. She's determined to see the two of us married, "Everything okay at home Brooke?", she asks after a minute.

I keep looking at her and she keeps looking at the roof. I don't know why she hasn't noticed it. Am I that good of a liar? Maybe it's all the practice I have with keeping the other secret from her. I have exactly two secrets, that I keep from her. And both of them would ruin everything if she'd ever find out. My most important relationship is built on lies. No, not built. It is built on the sacred bond we formed as kids. And it's poisoned by lies.

But Sam is getting close. She asks awkward questions quite often now. And I don't think she believes my answers anymore, "Sure. Everything's dandy."

"Cause I get the feeling there's something you want to tell me. About your father."

"Yeah", I chuckle and walk to the window. I don't dare to look at her anymore, now that she's turned to look at me, "When isn't there?"

"Something bigger than usually", Sam says. My attempted joviality doesn't work with her. With things like that, she sees immediately when I'm faking it, "So share."

There's a view of Sally's house from Sam's window. You can't see the birds from here anymore, not after she moved the nests to the backyard. But I see the woman walking out there. She's going to go release the pigeons again. They'll gain their freedom for the millionth time.

I've thought about telling Sam many times. But I can't see it ending good. She'd believe me, no question there, but she'd also insist on doing something drastic. At the very least she'd want to bring on other adults, police, the social people, her own parents. It would all blow up in our faces. I don't want that. It's my thing, I'll deal with it on my own.

But sometimes I need her comfort. Sometimes I wanna bury my head into her lap and feel her hands caressing my hair. Making it all just a little more bearable.

"Let's go see the pigeons Sam", I say when the silence has lasted over a minute.

For a second I think she's gona insist on an answer. But then she lets it go, "Sure. If you want to Brooke."

Brooke has changed. Our relationship has changed. I guess it's only natural. She has new friends now, and I have new friends. She has the cheer leading, and I have the school newspaper. But those are just things, well okay her newly formed friendship with Nicole is more than a thing. It's very unsettling.

Still, what is even more disturbing, is the way her character has changed. She has become moody. If I didn't know better, I'd say she is schizophrenic. There are three versions of her now.

There's overly needy Brooke. The girl who can't live without me, the girl who cries for no reason at all, the girl who lives days at a time in my house. The girl that breaks my heart time and time again. She usually has control few days a month.

Needy always gradually changes into normal Brooke, the girl I've known forever. The girl whom I love lots and lots. Almost more than my own parents. But differently. Normal Brooke is... normal. Sometimes cheery, sometimes sad. But not sad in a desperate way, sad in a normal way. There's something utterly charming about her. People bend over backwards to get her attention. And she only gives it to me.

But just like needy, normal disappears eventually. She stays on longer periods, even weeks at a time, but she still always fades away. And Brooke becomes the nervous girl. She snaps a lot easier than usual, and she sometimes acts like a total bitch. She's angry almost all the time. And she can't concentrate on anything. Nervous girl is usually gone in two or three days. She'll disappear over night, and needy takes her place.

It's like a cycle.

I know it's gotta have something to do with her dad. When she comes over and asks if she can stay for the night, she always says it's cause she had a fight with her dad. I don't know, maybe it's true, but I always get the feeling she's lying.

"What are you thinking?", her familiar sweet voice pulls me back to the cafeteria.

It startles me a little and she grins because of that. I smirk back, "Nothing."

"Really? Seemed like something", she says and turns her attention back to the salad plate she has.

I don't answer. Behind Brooke, Josh is sneaking up. He's holding a single finger over his mouth, telling me to stay quiet. I do. And I start to grin evilly. Brooke lifts her gaze along with a fork filled with salad. She notices my grin and becomes confused.

"What?", she asks frowning.

I only shrug and keep on grinning. Brooke is about to say something more but never gets the chance. Josh's hand comes up and slowly brushes at her neck and cheek. I expect her to be surprised yes, but nothing prepares me for the furious reaction. For a second I see such horror in her eyes, I didn't think possible. Brooke lunges away from the touch and in the same motion manages to throw her plate to the floor, and knock over her chair.

She ends up standing a few feet away facing Josh. The horror slowly fades when I stare at her in confusion. When Josh stares at her in confusion. Her mouth is slightly open and she shakes her head slowly, "Don't do that", Brooke says and bows her head.

"I'm sorry...", Josh frowns and stutters a little, "I didn't mean to... I mean I didn't know you'd freak out like that."

"You okay Brooke?", I ask when she only shakes on her feet, still way upset.

"I'm...", she says and turns to look at me, "Yeah."

"You want another salad?", Josh joins in. I notice there's quite a bunch of people ogling at us.

Brooke nods and bends down to pick up the plate, "Thanks Josh", she says and scoops up the fallen chair too.

"No problem", he answers and leaves.

I look after him while Brooke reclaims her seat, "Okay, what was that?", she shrugs and places the dirty plate as far away from us as possible, "Brooke?"

"It's nothing Sam", she answers verbally this time. Still her eyes refuse to look at me.

"It's something Brooke", something is wrong. Again. Nothing ever seems to go Brooke's way, "Can I come over after school?", I ask when she doesn't talk.

She nods slightly and keeps her stare on the table.

"What's this one about?", I ask her.

She glances over in my direction and I hold out the notebook so she can read the title, "It's stupid. Don't read that one."

"The Beast. Uuuuh!", I start to tease her, "Sounds scary", I say and chuckle.

"So not scary", she says and disappears into the closet again, "I tried doing these description thingies a few weeks ago. It's so stupid."

I plan to just skip over it and find a better story. Brooke does write the silliest things sometimes, and when she says something is stupid, she is usually right. But when the next story is titled The Beauty, it arouses my interest. Quickly I scan back to the beginning, "What or who are you trying to describe with it?", I ask when I start to read it.

She doesn't answer, but instead bursts out of the closet, "You're not reading it, are you?"

I frown at her, "Yes."

"No!", she yelps and tries to snatch the notebook out of my hand. I quickly move it out of her reach, "Sam! I told you not to read that one!"

"Why not?", I ask and roll off the bed.

I see how she's looking for a way to retrieve the book from me, "Because it's stupid and lousy, and badly written", she throws out adjectives, not meaning a single one of them.

"And about your father?"

Brooke looks at me for a while then at the floor, "No", she lies.

And now I have to read it. I raise it back up but before I can start Brooke grabs a hold of it. She tries to steal it, but I don't let go, "Stop it Brooke."

"You can't read it", she says and her eyes are desperate. Her voice is desperate.

I shake my head and grab a hold of Brooke's wrist when she doesn't let go, "I have to read it. Cause you won't tell me anything."

She only whimpers and starts struggling harder. We fight over the notebook like two dogs over a bone. Finally she loses her balance and falls down on the bed. And I fall on top of her. But she still doesn't let go.

"Enough Brooke", I try to get her to stop.

I let go of the notebook and instead pin down her hands, "Stop!", she screams, "Don't!"

"Just calm down", I try again, but I don't think she even hears it. Just keeps trashing up and down, from side to side. Trying to shake loose.

Her eyes fill with the horror I saw earlier today, "Please don't", she whines for a change, "Please don't hurt me."

"Hurt you?", I say releasing my hold a little, "Brooke, I..."

I never get to finish my sentence when she takes advantage of the weakened strains. Her left hand swings free and punches me straight to the chin, knocking me off of her. I fall down on the floor feeling a little dizzy. The punch wasn't that powerful, but the shear shock of her hitting me...

When I slowly rise back up Brooke has also gotten off the bed. She's covering in one corner of the room with the frightened eyes still keenly observing me, "What the hell?!", I shout to her.

"Sam?", she says squinting her eyes a little.

"Yeah?", I say annoyed as hell. How can she hit me? The doorbell intervenes our fight. She doesn't seem to notice it, "That's my dad", I say, ecstatic over the interruption. I'm so mad at her right now. Here I go out of my way to try and help her, and she repays it by punching me?! Why bother.

"I'm sorry Sam...", she is still whining in the corner, "I didn't know it was you."

Well who the fuck did you think I was! I want to scream at her. But the voice is so pitiful, I can't. I can't, "Whatever", I say and leave.

Dad is a little befuddled about my cranky mood, but luckily he knows me well enough to not to push it. He leaves me alone.

In the car my mind starts to wander. When I finally calm down I start to put things together. She didn't mean to hit me. Brooke could never hit me intentionally. I know she loves me way too much to do that. She was upset about the notebook and me tackling her onto the bed. And if the story was so important, and it was about her father... better not go jumping to conclusions.

I need someone else's opinion. A new perspective, "Dad?", I ask and turn to look at him.

He glances at me, "What Sam?"

Why is that car so close? It shouldn't be that close, "LOOK OUT!"

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

It's funny how you learn to live with things. Even the most evil and painful things. You can adapt to almost any kind of conditions. If you have the the right motivation, you can get through anything.

I lived with dad's nightly visits for four years without anyone finding out. I could block it all out when I left the house. I didn't let it show. Right until the end. Then it forced it's way out, started to burst through my shields. And Sam noticed it. How could she not, when I used to cling on to her for my pathetic life? Like it depended on Sam. And in a way it did. Without Sam, without the smallest of hopes that someday she might love me the way I love her, I would have had nothing. Nothing to keep me going.

I've often wondered how she would've reacted, if I'd told her when I meant to. Around the time mom left. I would've told her without the whole Buffy fiasco. God, what a mess that was. Set me back years. How could I tell her anything, when she was so appalled by the whole idea? And maybe it was for the best. We were too young.

And I've often wondered how it would've turned out if Sam's dad hadn't died. That turned everything around again. He was the nicest man I've ever known. He's the reason I don't despise the whole gender. He always treated me good. And the bond he shared with Sam... oh my God. I would've been SO jealous of it, if it weren't for the fact that they both deserved it.

If only he hadn't died.

I turn on the tv again.

How come they aren't here yet? They should be here already.

I walk to the kitchen and look out the window. Nothing.

What if she doesn't want to see me? Because of the fight. But Jane asked me to be here, I can't leave.

I walk back to the living room and sit on the sofa. There's some stupid talk show on tv.

I still can't believe it. It's like a dream. How can people just disappear like that? One minute they're here, the next they're gone. It's stupid.

I turn off the tv.

What if she doesn't want to see me? What if she gets angry? Stop it. It's for Sam. I'm here for Sam. If she wants to get angry, she can get angry. She can beat the life out of me, if that helps. Anything, as long as it helps.

I get up and start rubbing my hands together nervously.

Why Sam's dad? Why not mine?

I hear a car pulling to the driveway and rush to the kitchen again. It's them.

Oh! Sam looks so weak, so sad! Why Sam!

I want to cry, but quickly brush aside the tears.

It's my turn to be strong now. I can't let her down. That would make me the lousiest friend on the planet. And I want to be a good friend to her. As good as she's been to me.

They walk slowly to the front door. Jane offers an arm for support, but Sam only shakes it off.

She's hurting so much I can feel it.

I hurry to meet them in the hallway. When the door opens, I'm standing fifteen feet away holding my breath. Sam walks in first.

The black rings around her eyes are the first thing that registers. After them, the ugly scar decorating her forehead. It's the only bruise she got from the accident. The only physical bruise.

She sees me and I don't known what to do. I try to smile but it feels wrong.

How could I smile when her dad is dead?

She stops in the doorway and doesn't know what to do herself.

For a second I think she's gona start screaming. Blaming me for it all. Because it was my fault. If I hadn't hit her, she wouldn't have been in such a hurry to get out of the house, and they wouldn't have been in the intersection at that time.

She doesn't scream. She tries to talk. But nothing comes out of her mouth. Only tears from her eyes. And I run to crush her in a hug, "Oh Sam", I whisper into her ear, "I'm so sorry."

And she cries. For so long. And so hard. Sam never cries. It's weird, I can't remember a single incident when Sam would've cried. But I know there has to have been times. She's just never cried in front of me. Cause she has always played the strong one, the one who can take anything. The one who doesn't hurt.

Jane watches us for a minute. I see how she's holding back her own tears. She looks so lonely. Sam is the only thing she has left. And she needs her daughter. But Sam is the only thing I have left too. And I don't wanna give her away. I want to comfort her.

Jane's hand comes up and lands on Sam's shoulder. I slowly release my hold and guide the girl to her mother's arms. It's the way things should be, after all. It's their pain, not mine.

And suddenly I feel the most weirdest kind of jealousy. I'm jealous of their pain, their suffering.

Jane shields her daughter with the hug. Her eyes are still open and she's looking at me. She's smiling through the tears that slide down her face. And Sam's still crying. She won't ever stop grieving for her father.

Thank you, Jane mouths silently. I try to smile, but fail. I wanted to console Sam. I wanted to be a good friend. And now I can't. I have to be a bystander. And I can't take it.

And I can't take these awful thoughts in my head! What right do I have to think like this! They're the ones who lost him. Not me. How dare I take offense to their reaction!

I look away and force the thoughts out of my head. I'm just gona be here, with a clear mind. Whatever they need, I'll give. That's the best way I can help Sam.

I glance at the tangled mother daughter mess once more, and head back to the kitchen.

Darkness falls quietly into the house. The same feeling of emptiness I had when mom left, starts to creep up. Only this time it's even more crushing, cause it's in the McPherson house. And this house has always been full.

Slowly I let my eyes roam around the kitchen. I consider turning on the lights, but then decide not to. It wouldn't make any difference. The emptiness would still remain. The house is never going to be the same. It's tainted now, tainted with memories. Happy memories hurt the most, when future looks like shit.

I take a bite out of my sandwich and startle when the light suddenly does flash on. Through my blinking I see Jane standing by the door. She looks at me and walks into the room.

"I made some sandwiches in case you got hungry", I talk with a monotone voice.

"Thank you", Jane fights a smile on her face. She looks tired, "For everything, Brooke."

I look at her for the longest time in silence. And she looks back at me, "How's Sam?", I finally ask.

"Sleeping", she answers immediately, and takes a seat opposite to me. I offer the sandwich in my hand and she accepts it with a sigh. There's so much stuff pressing on her now, and I can't even begin to grasp it all, "You know she wouldn't even talk to me at the hospital. And she refused to show any emotion", Jane starts talking all of a sudden. She needs to get the things out, "Until we got home and she saw you, that is."

I get a feeling like she's accusing me of something. Stealing her daughter or whatever, "Really?", I say quietly, bowing my head.

"Yeah", Jane goes on, "So I was thinking, maybe you could stay for a while. At least till she wakes up?"

I look up, Jane is still drilling me with her sad and desperate eyes, "Sure", I say and shrug my shoulders, "Of course. I'll just call my dad, and let him know I'm spending the night here."

Jane's eyes never once leave me as I circle around the table, making my way to the phone. They never once leave me, while I dial the number and at the same time try to keep an eye on her, "You know Brooke", she says when I'm waiting for dad to answer, "I know you liked... him too", her voice falters slightly from the thought of her husband, "So if you feel like talking about it... or you feel like crying, you do have the right. You know that, don't you?"

I glance at her warily and nod, "I know, but I'm..."

"Hello?", dad's voice interrupts me.

"Hi dad", I say with as cheery voice as I can muster. Talking to him is so hard now a days, "Listen, I'm gona stay at Sam's for the night."

"No, you're not", he answers immediately. He sounds mad, "You're coming home."

The voice sends chills down my spine. Dad has two modes these days. Angry and apologetic. Angry is when I can do nothing. Apologetic is when I can do everything, "Please dad", I try pleading. I notice the weird look Jane's giving me, "Sam's father died yesterday. I have to stay."

It shuts him up for a few seconds. But he has no compassion for others. He can't feel anyone else's pain, only his own. So I know he's not going to agree to it, "That's too bad", he finally says. The voice is only slightly less angry, "But you're coming home."

"But dad...", I try again.

"I'm gona come pick you up in an hour. You better be ready", he says and hangs up.

I wait for a while in stunned silence. How am I gona explain it to Jane? Slowly I set down the receiver and turn to look at her, "I can't stay", I say weakly.

"What?", she frowns and shakes her head.

"Dad wants me home", I go on apologizing.

Jane wants to protest. And I can't blame her. But at the last moment she just gives up, "Well, I guess you have to go then."

It's the mature thing to do. To obey your parents. They know what's good for you. Right, "He's gona be here in an hour. Is it okay, if I spend that time in Sam's room?"

Jane nods and finally lets her gaze wander off. She doesn't say anything. I stand there awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to do. And then I turn and escape.

I so don't want to go home. I know what's coming. I know exactly what's coming. Why tonight? Why the hell does everything have to happen at the same time! Why can't I just stay and help Sam? Is it too much to ask? Apparently so. But it's no use whining, at least I have the hour.

Sam is sleeping on her back. Her head is turned towards the door and the first thing I see is the grief. It doesn't leave her even in her sleep. It's as evident on her face as it was when she was awake. I tiptoe to the bed and lie down next to her.

For a few minutes that's all I do. Lie next to her. And watch her sleep. It seems peaceful enough. I wish I could see her eyes though. Sam's eyes always tell me everything there is to know about her. From her eyes, I can see exactly how she's feeling any given moment.

Slowly my hand evolves a mind of it's own. It refuses to idly sit by and let Sam hurt. Little by little it inches it's way to her cheek, and starts caressing it. And I follow it's example and lean closer. I love her so much. Why can't I just tell her that? Not now, of course. It would be wrong to lay something like that on her now.

But, oh God! I can't hide it much longer. Maybe just one kiss... not on the mouth, that'd be wrong. But on the forehead. That's the next best thing.

I close my eyes and lean even closer. So slowly, it takes almost a minute until I'm there. When I reach her, I plant the lightest kiss on her day old scar. I barely touch her. And when it's done, I pull back as quickly as I can. My hand also joins me in the hurried flee.

And this awful guilt floods over me. I had no right!

But she looks precious. Just lying there, like the most vulnerable thing in the world. And it was just a kiss on the forehead. Nothing more. So relax.

I press my head on the pillow, some inches away from her. My hand moves back, not on the cheek, but on her arm. Just so she'll know I'm here. I want to join Sam in the dream world. I'm tired, and I'm lonely. Reluctantly I close my eyes. This means I can't see her anymore, but it's also the only way to fall asleep.

And pretty soon I start to drift off.

"Brooke?", a voice, accompanied by a small rocking motion wakes me up, "Your father is here Brooke", it's Jane.

Already? I can't believe it!, "What? I've slept like a minute", I start to whine with a groggy voice. I move my arm abruptly, to look at my watch, and it accidentally bumps Sam on the chin. And of course she wakes up! How else?, "Sorry", I apologize when her eyes open, "Go right back to sleep."

There is a short moment when I see hope glimmer in her eyes. I know what she's thinking. She's thinking she dreamt the whole thing up. And then reality kicks in. And the pain comes right back, with vengeance. She winces and sits up.

"Sam... you really should sleep some more", Jane joins in.

"Why?", Sam answers bluntly, "That gona bring him back?"

I also sit up and place a hand on her shoulder, but she moves further away. Jane sighs, "You should probably go Brooke."

"Yeah", I say standing up.

"Go?", Sam is on her feet faster than me. There are signs of panic on her face, "Go where?"

"I gotta go home Sam", I look at her for a second, and then start to walk away.

"No!", she screams and runs to block my way, "You're not going back there! Ever!"

I give her a confused smile, and shake my head once, "What?"

"Come on Sam", Jane says from behind me, "Mike is here to pick her up."

There's a wild gleam in Sam's eyes as she stares straight into mine, "You don't have to go", she whispers. She knows. My God, Sam knows. Why did she have to guess that one? Why not the other secret?

I wanna accept her view on things, but the truth is, I have to go. He's my father, he can make me, "I'll be back tomorrow", I say loud enough for Jane to hear, so she won't get suspicious, "Don't worry."

I give Sam an encouraging smile and brush past her. She let's me go. A part of me wanted her to stop me, but it really is better this way. The fewer people involved the better.

Jane follows me down the stairs and to the front door, where dad is waiting. He's got a devious look about him. He even smiles at me to fool Jane. I don't smile back. Instead I grab my coat from the hanger and pull it on.

"Ready to go?", he asks.

I nod and am about to answer verbally when Sam beats me to it, "No", she says walking down the stairs, "Brooke stays here. She's not coming with you."

Her voice is strong. It's like she's just stating facts. But it takes more than that to convince my dad, "I'm really sorry for your loss", he states blandly, like reading from a paper, "And I'm sorry, but Brooke is coming home with me."

"Yeah, Sam", I cut in quickly before Sam can reply, "It's really okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No", she says again. And walks straight in front of my father, "You're not going anywhere, Brooke", she says in a normal tone, and then adds more quietly, so that Jane can't hear, "Brooke stays here. And if you ever touch her again, I WILL tell people what you've done", Sam looks directly into my father's eyes.

For a moment, there's only rage in him. For a moment, I think he's gona attack Sam, but then something changes. The rage subsides, and is replaced by fear. And shame. And God knows what else, "All right", he mutters barely understandably.

And he leaves. I can't believe it. He leaves.

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

It was the single most bravest and kindest thing anyone will ever do for me. Nothing can top it. Not a thing. Despite her own grief and pain she still managed to save me.

I couldn't believe it then, I just stood there for so long just gawking at her with my mouth open. I didn't even thank her. And I don't think she expected me to.

And I can't believe it now. I still can't understand how she did it. I cannot understand.

A few days later I did thank her. And I asked her why she didn't tell anyone, why she didn't tell her mother. She said she didn't know. She said it didn't feel right. She said she didn't want me to lose my father, like she'd lost hers. Even a crappy father is better than no father. That's how she felt, still feels, I think.

I don't agree. But that's just because of our different experiences. She doesn't know what it is to live with a bastard for a father. And I don't know what it's like to lose a father like hers. I will never know how much it hurts.

It's weird how deep certain things shape us. Weird how Sam, who in other ways is the most balanced girl, the smartest girl, can become so deluded because of this single incident. Because she lost her father, she couldn't bring herself to destroy mine. Only a day earlier she would've done it in a heartbeat.

I guess everything is timing.

She stares at the television. I don't think she sees it though. At least she doesn't react to it in any way. I change the channel and her eyes don't even blink. I mute the sound and she doesn't care. Her arms are folded across her chest, and her legs are up on the couch, bent to her right.

I sigh and place the remote on the table. And grab the TV Guide instead.

Sam's been out of it for two days already. It's getting real boring, if nothing else. She doesn't talk, or do anything. Just stares at stuff. Hours at a time.

She dreams.

I leaf through the stupid magazine, trying to find something worth reading. With little luck. Soon my eye lids grow heavy, and I let them fall shut. And I start to get woozy...

"What happened to the sound?", Sam startles me, when I'm already half a sleep.

"What?", I mumble out, and shake myself to full alert, "Oh, I turned it off."

"Why?", she frowns and turns to look at me.

I smile meekly and shrug, "Because."

She shakes her head, "Well, could you turn it back on?"

"No", I answer, "We're done with tv. Let's do something else."

Sam looks disgusted with my idea. She makes an attempt for the remote, but I beat her to it. Using my cobra hand, I snatch the prey. She just groans and slouches back down on her seat. I put on my victory grin and shut the television entirely.

Sam grumbles something under her breath, but I don't make out the words, "What?", I keep on grinning.

"I said, you ungrateful bitch", Sam snorts annoyed. Her words hurt a little. Not too much though, "This is how you thank me?"

"Oh, please", I chime back, "You weren't even watching it", I try to goat her into an argument. That's the thing she's always been most passionate about. She picks fights about anything and everything. Even with me.

Bitch, she mouths silently and stands up to leave.

But fighting with her in this state is too hard. I can't do it. I can't hurt her. Not even when it might be for her own good. Not when she's already in so much pain.

"Sam", I call after her. She stops, "Thank you."

She stands there for a few seconds with her back towards me. Struggling over something. And then she turns around just enough to look at me. And her eyes are sad. Her mouth is open but she doesn't know what to say. So she says nothing. Instead she walks back, and sits on the couch again

"How come you haven't told anyone?", I ask her.

"Because", Sam answers. And I could swear I see a smile playing on her face.

"Sam..."

"I don't know Brooke", she talks. And I recognize the real Sam making her first appearance since the death, "Would you like me to?", her head is bowed down, and I can't see her eyes.

No, I want to say right off. But that might make her want to do it, so I don't want to sound too passionate about it. My silence forces her to look up again. The eyes are a little less sad. And a little more interested, "It'd only make things worse", I finally mumble out.

"I know", she says surprising me. She knows?, "It doesn't feel right. Not after what happened. I don't want you to lose your father too", oh. She `knows'. Right. Well, whatever gets the job done, and all that.

There's a long silence. I have nothing to say. Sam has something to say. I know she has. But she's having trouble finding a way to say it. Trouble asking the questions she wants to ask. We haven't talked about it, not with a single word. Not when there's so much other stuff going on at the same time. Not that we've talked about Sam's dad either, for that matter. We haven't talked period.

"What exactly did he do, Brooke?"

What exactly? Yeah, like I'm gona go there. I lift my gaze from her eyes, direct it just above her head, to the wall, "Bad things Sam", I whisper.

She waits another moment before going on, "Maybe talking about it would help."

"I'm dealing just fine", I say my stare still fixed to a spot on the wall, "Unlike you", with the last words I look her straight in the eyes. I didn't mean to say it. She won't like it.

Sam's eyes narrow slightly, "What do you mean?", she asks pointedly.

It's meant to shut me up. But I'm trying to do the good friend thing again, "It isn't good that you spend so much time thinking about him Sam", she's up on her feet again, so fast, I barely have time to protest, "Sam, don't go!", I shout when she makes another attempt at an escape.

And this time she succeeds. Without stopping, without looking back, she rushes out.

"She's upstairs", Jane tells me, "Crying in her bed", poor girl. Poor woman.

I nod, "Guessed as much", except for the crying. Which is probably a good sign.

Oh how weak Jane looks now. How utterly dead. Such a contrast to the woman who's responsible for providing me with so many happy memories.

"So you had a fight or something?", she sighs and walks to the table.

And I'm transported two days back in time. To the day they came home from the hospital. The mood is exactly the same. The set up is exactly the same. Only, I'm feeling even more hopeless now. Everything that's happened during these days is been for the worse. With the exception of Sam's uncanny show of strength in dealing with my father.

But everything I've tried to do for Sam, has been worthless. Everything that Jane has done for her daughter, has been worthless. We haven't done anything to help the girl who's dying of sadness.

"Something", I mutter and stand up as she sits down.

"Brooke?", Jane asks worried.

I make the mistake of glancing at her. I can't stand the way she looks now. Quickly I turn my head away, "This... this thing...", I stutter and take a deep breath, "I'm not helping her one bit, am I?"

"You're doing the best you can", she answers without hesitation. She's such a good woman. To care for my feelings too. How come some people are so much better than others?, "And that's enough."

I want to protest. It's not enough. How could it be enough, when Sam's still crying alone in her bed?

I nod silently a couple of times, "Brooke...", Jane starts again, "What happened with your dad the other day?"

"What do you mean?", my head flings around to face her in a mad rush. Sam hasn't told her, I know she hasn't. But maybe Jane has guessed something. I thought losing her husband would've clouded her mind enough.

Jane looks at me with newfound interest. My anxiousness isn't helping, "It was weird how he was so eager to take you home at first, and then he just changed his mind when Sam came down."

Think, stupid girl, think! I try to appear casual as I shrug my shoulders, "Yeah. Maybe he saw how badly Sam needed me?"

Jane doesn't buy it. I see in her eyes, that she doesn't believe me. But neither does she press the matter. She's got more urgent stuff to deal with, "Maybe", she mutters and looks away. It's a valid enough excuse.

She shudders from the silent sobs.

It breaks my heart watching it. And yet I can't look away. And I can't console her. I can't do anything. Cause I'm the worst friend there is. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help. What use am I, if I can't help the one girl who means more to me than anything? Might as well go back to my father, we so deserve each other.

Slowly she turns around on the bed and spots me standing by the door. Her tear filled eyes grow blank when she recognizes me, "Go away", she wails and turns back around.

"Please Sam", I whine pitifully, "I only want to help you."

"Then go", she presses on with a hateful voice. And I would. If not for my stubborn legs. They start to carry me closer to her, and all the while I'm screaming in my mind, telling them to turn around, "I said leave!", Sam yells sitting up, when she hears my steps.

"I can't", I talk back and shake my head. My own eyes are misting with tears too, "I love you too much Sam."

"Love", she mocks me. I take the hit as gracefully as I can, "You need me. That's all."

I shut my eyes as tightly as I can, trying to hold back the tears. But they still burst through, "Don't say that", I whisper with a faltering voice, "I love you SO much."

I don't open my eyes. I'm too scared to look at her. Afraid of what I might find on her face. Instead I wait for her to talk. She doesn't at first. The only thing I hear are my few irregular gasps for air. I know she's only being this way because she hurts so badly. But the words still have an ounce of truth in them. This is how a part of her feels about me. Has always felt.

"Why can't you just leave me alone then?", Sam's voice is heavy when she finally answers. It's an exhausted voice. Worn out, "I could've had so much more time with him, if I hadn't wasted it on you and your endless stream of problems."

Wasted? Wasted!? WASTED!?

She can't mean that!

My eyes shoot open. I look straight into her cold face, her unsmiling mouth, her empty eyes, "You take and you take", Sam goes on when all I can do is gape at her, "And you never give anything back."

I want to help you! I want to give back! I want to be here for you! I would trade places with your father in a second, and do it with a smile. I would take your pain away if you'd just let me... But you don't. You don't let me do anything. You push me away and you hide your grief, your pain, your wounds.

And I seem to have lost all verbal skills, "So why don't you just go? I'm empty. Nothing left to take", she says.

It's the pain in her talking. It's the hurt in her talking. It's the grief in her talking. It's the desperation in her talking. It's the...

I leave.

Heys,
This part has taken forever to write. Hope the chapter doesn't end too abruptly. There's two more chaps after this one. The next will be shorter, and the ending... well, we'll see.

Kind of wrote myself into a bit of a trap with this story. Too much evil stuff, and not enough skill to make it believable. Sorry. Thanks for being so kind with the feedback.

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

I have fought with Sam many times. Even intensely. We argue a lot, that's part of our relationship. The fights are almost as important as the bonding moments in between. When we share everything.

But that fight, when she told me to leave... that was too much. That went beyond what I was used to. It hurt, really hurt. I thought that was it. If Sam didn't want me, there was nothing left. If I was the reason Sam was in so much pain, I couldn't very well justify being around her anymore.

And the most God awful week followed. I don't know how I would've survived it, if I hadn't felt so much guilt over Sam and her loss. I had to make it up to her, so I had to stay alive. I had to stay there. Even when I hardly even saw her.

There were three of us in that house, all living our separate lives. I didn't interact with Sam at all. Jane did her best, trying to hold onto some degree of normality. But it soon became clear to her, that it was useless. Things weren't normal, and she couldn't force them to be. So she decided to let things slide by on their own weight.

And oddly enough they did. Weird how things work out, when you least expect them to.

***

They talk, and they talk, and they talk. Blah, blah, blah. The endless chattering drives me crazy sometimes. I wanna scream at them. Tell them to shut the fuck up! But it would require too much effort. I don't have the energy for it.

And I can stand it, when they talk amongst themselves. When I don't have to participate. I can block it out then. Ignore them. But when they start to bother me with their STUPID! questions, that's when I get this urge to just beat them senseless. The whole bunch of them.

I'm starting to regret driving Brooke away. At least she knew when to shut up.

Brooke... even the smallest thought of her and I'm drowning in guilt again. I said some hurtful things to her. Things I shouldn't have said. There is no excuse for such words. I've meant to apologize for them many times. But whenever I see her, all I can think of is him. And how Brooke took up SO much of my time.

"Sam, what do you think?", the bigger of the two brunettes across the table asks me.

I fight back the urge to grab my fork and stab it in her forehead, "About what Carmen?", my fingers slide softly on the piece of metal, while I make a deliberate effort to not look up.

"Hello? Where have you been again?", she continues with the overly chippery voice. The kind that makes you wanna vomit, "I'm thinking of trying out for the cheer leading team."

"Sure. Go for it", I say and hope the sarcasm isn't too obvious, "I'm sure they could use a girl like you."

"Sam!", Lily is outraged. My head jerks up to face the demanding voice, "I thought we were on the same page here! The cheerleaders represent everything that is wrong in our society."

I stare blankly at her. I don't know what's worse, that they try to act like nothing's changed, or that... nothing's changed. To them. They are just waiting out the storm. Waiting for  everything to get back to the way it was.

"Oh yeah...", I mumble. Brooke's cheerful giggle distracts me and I forget what I was about to say, "Sorry", is all I can get out, while glancing at the popular table.

There's Brooke. There's Nicole. There's Josh. And that new weird girl from... somewhere south. I sometimes sit with them. Because of Brooke. And maybe even a little because of Josh. But I can't say that I enjoy it. It's weird how different me and Brooke are in ways. And still we're best friends. Best friends...

Josh's hand is reaching for Brooke's face. She shys away from the touch, giving a meek smile to the guy. How could it take me so long to notice it? How much she hates being touched, how she always looks so uncomfortable when Josh is holding her hand. Or about to kiss her.

Brooke's gaze sweeps across the cafeteria and she spots me ogling her way. I'm quick to look away.

"What's up with you two?", Carmen asks. New found appreciation for my friends floods over me. In the end, they are good friends. Way better than Brooke's. How can we be so different in ways?

"What do you mean?", I say and bow my head again.

"You don't spend any time with her anymore", Lily joins in with her acute observations, "Not after you came back to school."

I keep staring at the table, "It's complicated", I answer and then whisper more quietly, "Everything with Brooke is complicated", I notice the two girls exchange looks. And I get this urge to share. To let them in. Maybe they can help, "It's like... her life is so hard. When I'm with her, I feel guilty for grieving my dad so much. Like I'm doing something wrong..."

"What?", Carmen asks. I glance at her and find her frowning. She didn't understand a word of what I was trying to say, "You mean she... doesn't let you mourn?"

"No. God no", I shake my head, "Brooke would never say or do anything like that. But when I know she's hurting as much, or probably even more than me, I... just feel guilty", they won't get it. I don't even get it myself, "I feel guilty", I repeat flatly. I feel guilty. And at the same time I'm angry at her. It's not a good combination.

Again the two glance at each other. Lily places a hand on top of mine, "I'm not sure I understand Sam", she says, "Your dad's the one that died. Why would Brooke hurt more than you?"

Because. The single word pops into my head immediately. I smile inwardly. It's Brooke's favorite response, when she doesn't want to tell the real reason. Because, and a smile so charming you cannot resist it's power.

I glance at the popular table again and find Brooke still looking at me. She even smiles when our eyes meet. I try to smile back, but it's so hard. Too hard. Instead I stand up and leave behind two very confused brunettes.

***

"Okay. As soon as Brooke gets here we're gona start this thing", I listen to Nicole's bitchy voice with a blank stare. She's doing what she likes doing the most. Bossing around other people. Enjoying what little power she has.

There're ten girls on the field, spread in a half circle around the blonde leader. Nic's gaze sweeps over me and Lily. Nothing in her expression changes when she spots us sitting at the stands. Normally she would've insulted me, but even her behavior has been affected by the recent events. Though, I suspect that's all Brooke's doing. I can't see Nicole being able to feel compassion.

"You all get one chance", she goes on, "One chance. No exceptions."

"God. What a nazi that Nicole is", Lily whines quietly.

"Yeah", I agree with a chuckle.

I've hated Nic for as long as I've known her. There is nothing good in her. And I cannot understand how Brooke can be friends with her. When we were younger, the two couldn't stand each other. Nicole always had this huge competition going on with Brooke. It's kind of funny. The way Brooke has always been the more popular one by just being herself. But then again, one of her defining characteristics is the obsession with all things perfect. Something her parents instilled in her at a very young age.

"Where is Carmen? I'm never going to forgive her, if she makes us suffer through this for nothing", Lily talks again after a while.

I glance over my shoulder and notice how the girl in question just slips out of the school's back door, "She's probably been puking her guts out", I answer nodding my head towards her.

"What?", Lily asks confused.

"She was pretty nervous", I explain. Lily leaves it to that. We both stare how Carmen slowly jogs over to the other cheer leader wannabes. On her way, she glances at us and smiles.

Nicole notices the newest addition and cringes. How can Carmen be so naive? She has no chance whatsoever to get into the team. Not as long as Nicole's in charge, "Okay... has anyone seen Brooke?", the blonde is getting frustrated. Her voice has a threatening edge to it.

"O... oh!", Carmen stutters and starts to fidget around, "I... I don't think she's coming", she says and is rewarded with Nicole's piercing stare, "I mean... I think she has some kind of family emergency. I saw her go into the principal's office with her father."

What?! I jump on my feet and hop down the benches, "What did you say?", I demand to know.

Carmen turns around to face me. And so does Nicole, "Sam, you...", she starts.

"Shut up Nicole", I interrupt her with a biting voice, and look straight into Carmen's eyes, "Mike is here? In the school?"

"Uhhum", she nods her head, "I just saw him fifteen minutes ago."

Oh my God. He's here. I should've known better.

I start running, "Sam!", someone calls after me. I don't pay any attention to it.

He's here! He's gona take Brooke away. I can't let him do that. No way. I should've told mom. I should've told someone. I should've known better than to listen to Brooke's screwed up reasonings.

I decide to circle around the school building in case they're already done. I can't let them leave.

This awful feeling that I'll never see her again pops into my head. I couldn't live like that. I couldn't live without her. I won't live without her. What if they're already gone? Don't think like that!

And when I round the corner, reaching the front yard, I see them. Coming out of the main doors. Mike's hand graces Brooke's shoulder as he guides the girl out the doors. And that's the last straw.

Uncontrollable rage takes over me as I slow down to a walk. Brooke sees me first. She opens her mouth to say something. But either she doesn't find the words, or I'm too mad to hear her voice. Mike also sees me at the last moment. Fear. It's written all over his face. Fear. What a pitiful man!

"I told you not to touch her again!", I scream and push him in the chest as hard as I can.

He falls back a few steps and then catches his balance, "Sam...", this time I do hear Brooke's voice.

But I ignore it. No more excuses! Mike deserves nothing short of death, "You're her father! How can you do that?!", I keep on shouting. Clenching my hands into fists, I take a step forward, ready to execute the punishment myself. He doesn't respond. Just looks ashamed. Too little, too late, you bastard!, "How can you do that to your own daughter?", I repeat. Tears are dribbling down my face. I didn't even realize I'd started crying till now.

"Sam, it's okay", Brooke says and steps between us. Blocking my view of the man. I make a weak effort to get around her, but she grabs my hands and looks straight into my eyes, "It's okay", she says again and smiles.

Okay? It's okay that this... rapist runs free and does whatever he wants?!, "Like hell it is Brooke!", I gather my last strength and try to regain my freedom. But Brooke's hold is surprisingly strong. She doesn't let go, "I'll fucking kill him! He can't do that to you!", I still shout but there's no power in it anymore.

All these disgusting images start to play in my head. I close my eyes and begin to weep.

What a piece of shit world where something like that can happen! And what a sick world where this monster gets away with everything.

A distant pain in my knees tells me that I've fallen down on them.

How can someone hurt Brooke like that? She's the most innocent girl. The most sweetest girl.

I feel her familiar arms pulling me into an embrace. My face is buried in her hair, and I'm crying. I'm crying cause it's so wrong. Everything is so wrong. I cry cause nothing makes sense.

And then Brooke's hands start stroking my hair. And her cheek is brushing against mine. And her voice is soothing me. She's repeating the same words over and over again, "It's okay."

And somehow she convinces me. Somehow things will be okay if we can just be together.

When I open my eyes again Mike is nowhere to be seen.

"He's gone Sam", Brooke answers my unasked question.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

I don't know what it was that made him do it. Maybe it was Sam's threat of exposing him. Maybe he decided to stop it while he was still ahead. But I like to think that a part of him finally realized how wrong it was, that a part of him was still human. I like to think that he did it for me. That there was still the smallest part of him that thought of me as his daughter. And he wanted to save me from further harm.

Sick, I know.

But he still had this hold of me. I still wanted to see good in him. I still wanted a father. And now I could have one. In my head. With the real thing gone.

He moved away. Took a job in Chicago. Promised he'd seek help for his `problem', like he called it. If I in return, promised that no one would ever find out about it. And I agreed. Cause in the end, that was what I wanted too. I wanted it to be over. So I could forget, and move on.

He made a few arrangements. I moved permanently to the McPherson house, though he still remained my legal guardian. I don't know exactly how he settled it with the social workers, and the school people, and whomever concerned. But no one ever questioned a thing. Money buys a lot of things.

Jane was more than a little befuddled, demanded to know what on earth was going on at first. But in the end, she gave up pretty easily, when Sam insisted that everything was fine. I think Jane was happy about it. I think she's always seen me, if not as a daughter, then at least as a stepdaughter.

Things quieted down. Started to go my way. And I was the happiest I've ever been.

***

"Brooke", Sam calls from behind the door, "Are you asleep?"

"No", I respond and close the book I was reading.

She opens the door, steps in and then closes it behind her again. There's an awkward smile on her face. I smile back. She walks and sits on the bed, while I struggle myself up to a sitting position.

Her hand starts to play with the edge of my blanket. She looks at me, then away, and back again. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Smiles, frowns.

"What?", I finally ask, amused by her nervousness.

"It's...umm", she stutters, "You know... weird, I guess the word would be", her gaze is fixed on the floor.

"What's weird?"

"This", she says and glances at me under her brow. Her eyes have a strange glimmer in them.

I look at her for a good half a minute. She keeps on staring down, "You gotta be more precise than that Sam", I finally say, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This thing!", she says loud, turning to look at me. Her voice is impatient. Her expression is anxious, "Between us."

Her words, vague as they are, take my breath away. And not just her words. The nervousness, the glimmer, the simple fact that she sought out my company. I clear my throat, and start breathing again, "What do you mean? You... you mean...", I want to ask her directly. I don't wanna wait another second. But I have to. If she is the one who brings it up, without any encouragement from my part, then it's gotta be mutual. And it has to be mutual.

She doesn't say anything at first. Only looks at me. And I'm starting to get as nervous as she is. Oh, please God, let her feel the same way!, "You know, mom signed the papers", she suddenly blurts out and shakes her head, "We have to move out by Monday."

I try to hide my disappointment. Not an easy job, "Yeah?", I breath out heavily and bow my head, "How... do you feel about that?", I force myself to ask. Don't show it. Just act like nothing. Act like you care about the living conditions.

Sam's voice is a little distant when she answers, "I'm not sure", she says, "Of course it's hard. A lot of history and all that, you know?", yeah, sure, whatever. I nod, "But it's probably a good thing cause of all", her voice gets faltery and unsure. I raise my head to face her, "The history and I love you!", she suddenly adds the four words with a shout.

"Oh!, I love you!", I repeat the words in a mad rush. Quickly before she takes hers away.

"No, I really mean..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? And you do too?"

I start nodding my head, and blink away the few tears of happiness, "I so do", I so do love you. More than you'll probably ever know. Have loved you longer than you'll probably ever believe. And will love you till I die. Even if and when you stop loving me. Even if and when you leave me.

She laughs a little and wraps her arms around me. She has hugged me countless of times before, but this one will always be special. This one I'll always remember. Cause it's a moment of perfect happiness. A moment so rare it only comes by once or twice in a lifetime.

A kind of moment that makes an eternity of misery worthwhile.

Chapter Four

Eye of the Tornado (1/2)

A/N: Sorry about the long gap in updates. Between my studies, and the figure skating competition in the olympics (I just love figure skating, I cannot not watch it), I have little time to write.

This is a short chapter. Should be done soon. After this one, there's one more, and then maybe one more *g*, depending on how the ending works out.

Thanks for the feedback everyone. I know I've been lazy in letting you know it, but I do love all the feedback I get. Good and bad. And it's so great that you take the time to write it.

"The first time?", a blonde girl talks to her own reflection in the mirror. She stops brushing her hair and thinks about it for a moment, "I'm not sure... maybe it was the time you called me the `Queen of ugly morons', and I thought my world had just come to an end."

"What?", asks a brunette girl incredulously. She's slouching on the bed, engrossed in her favorite activity. Observing the blonde girl do everyday things. Like beautifying herself.

The blonde doesn't notice the weird look thrown her way, so she just goes on, "Or maybe it was the time I thought I killed you with the baseball. Remember that?", her head turns slightly as she uses the mirror to gaze at her friend. Her sister. Her lover. Her everything.

The girl on the bed frowns, and shakes her head, "You have a very scary idea of love."

"How so?", she frowns back.

"I think it's scary, that you would associate insults and baseballs in the head with love."

"Well, I'm sorry if my love is so scary", the blonde is a little offended. She turns her eyes away from the other girl again, "They were just moments when I realized how much you meant to me."

"But we were like nine or ten", the brunette replies, "How could you know so young?", she has trouble believing the blonde girl.

"Eight. And I just did."

A silence falls into the room. It's an awkward silence. The girl by the mirror slowly raises the brush up again. She doesn't like her words questioned. Especially in this particular matter. But she also doesn't like that the exact moment has escaped her memory. How can she forget the moment she realized who she was meant to be with? That's like forgetting her own name. That's like saying it really wasn't that important a moment. And it was. It so was!

Panic starts to swell inside the blonde girl. The moment is a crucial part of her life. One of the defining moments in her childhood. How can she forget?!

She quickly swirls around in her chair. Wanting, needing, confirmation that the other girl is still there. And she is.

The brunette has gotten up and is now standing directly in front of the blonde girl. She leans down and softly kisses her on the mouth.

And then it all comes back to the blonde. The feel of the brunette's lips is so familiar, it helps her remember. And this time she won't forget it. She makes a mental note to start a journal. She's going to write down every single thing about the brunette. And why not other stuff too, while she's at it, "Actually it was when we kissed the first time", she says when the other girl pulls back.

"Oh", comes the reply, "When was that?"

"You remember! When I divorced Harrison and married you, cause he couldn't work up the nerve to kiss me."

At first there's only confusion on the brunette's face. Then suddenly she remembers too, and a huge grin appears on her mouth, "Oh yeah!", she exclaims, "And then my mother called me home before the... you know...", the grin grows a little wicked, "Wedding night."

The blonde girl smiles back. Their hands find each other. There's another silence. Not an awkward one this time. This time it's comfortable.

This time both girls are lost in the past, lost together. Lost because they want to be lost.

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

The closer I get to the present, the harder it is to write stuff down. The harder it gets to separate the important moments from the usual crap. It's cause I remember so much from the recent years. I have too good a memory. It feels like a curse sometimes, to be able to remember every excruciating detail.

But other times, it's a blessing.

Like the memory of the first kiss. The first real kiss. That night, when she came into my room and changed our lives forever. How very surprising that it was Sam again, who had to do it. How very surprising that I was ready to live my whole life without taking the risk.

But the kiss... so soft, so sweet. Exactly what I needed then. I didn't want it to be too passionate, or hungry. Like it was with Josh. He was always forcing it, wanting more than I was willing to give. And it always ended awkwardly. With Sam it was perfect. It wasn't about lust, it was about love.

It was a little timid at first, cause neither of us really knew what to do. How to do it right. But the longer it lasted, the better it got. And by the time Sam ended it, I was completely gone. Lost in her. I knew no one would ever kiss me like that again. Not even her. Cause the first is the first, after that it was different.

It was kind of funny having Sam relive the angsting she had gone through gathering up the nerve to tell me. Funny, cause all she had to do was say the words. I must've done some Oscar-worthy acting while hiding my true feelings from her. And funny cause it had all ended so well. Otherwise it would've been kinda sad.

She said she knew the day my dad came to the school. She said she knew cause she couldn't stand the thought of him touching me. It drove her crazy. And not only in the protective sense. Also in a jealousy sense. In a very, very disturbing jealousy sense. I guess we're both kind of screwed up in the head.

After that it took her about a month to open her mouth. I remember that time so well. She used to make up all kinds of excuses to hang around with me. And then she made up even more excuses to get rid of me. It was very frustrating. I couldn't figure out what she wanted. But it was still so much better than the Hell week before it. Cause I got to be with her. And sometimes just being with Sam is enough.

Sam and Brooke. Walking down the hall. Sam and Brooke. Sitting in the cafeteria. Sam and Brooke together. Laughing. Talking. Sam and Brooke holding hands. Sam and Brooke smiling at each other.

It's all she sees anymore. All. She's been totally pushed over to the back-seat. And Nicole hates being in the back-seat. She hates being ignored.

For a while it had seemed, that maybe, just maybe, the unnatural friendship between the blonde cheerleader and the brunette journalist might be coming to an end. For a whole week the two hadn't exchanged a single word, as far as Nicole knew. And there had definitely been extra tension between them. Even enough that she had dared hope for a fight. A final showdown.

But it never came. Instead Sam and Brooke got even closer. So much so, that they are rarely apart anymore. Living in the same house, well an apartment actually, spending every day at school together. And even after school it's impossible to separate them. Sam has even taken up the habit to come watch the cheerleading practice. And that's not even the worst part.

No, the worst part is, that Brooke is so totally oblivious to Nicole's presence. She can't stand it. The only person she has ever wanted to be close to, to really, truly be friends with, is treating her like air when the brunette is there.

Sam and Brooke. Walking down the hall. Totally absorbed in each other. Living in their own world.

Nicole stops and waits. She keeps her eyes on the blonde girl, as the two stroll towards her. Brooke's head is turned to her right, she nods a few times as a reply to Sam's words.

Time slows down for Nicole, "Hey Brooke", she slowly mouths when the girls pass by her.

The blonde glances at her, "Hi Nic", she even agrees to smile. But as soon as the words are said, the head turns back. Nicole isn't worth more than a few seconds. And two words. Without stopping, without even slowing their pace, Sam and Brooke hurry on their merry way.

"So you ate it?", Brooke asks incredulously.

Sam is looking back. There's a smug grin on her face when she sees how Nicole is glaring her way, "Well I had to", she states and turns to look ahead of her again, "You should've seen the hopeful look she was giving me", she goes on and takes a hold of Brooke's hand, "She really believed she'd finally gotten it right."

Brooke smiles at the brunette when their hands touch, "I can't believe it", she says, "Your mom is such a good cook. How can she not know how to make chocolate chip cookies?"

Sam throws her free hand in the air, "I know! It doesn't make sense!", beside her, Brooke starts to laugh, "I mean, it's like the easiest thing. You use plenty of chocolate, and that's it."

They turn around a corner, and Brooke is still laughing. And that is all Sam really wants. She wants Brooke to laugh all the time. To make up for all the not-so-happy times in the past. She wants everything to be all good, all the time for Brooke.

They gather a few curios looks, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing is different from the time before. No one has noticed. And no one will notice. They have been friends so long, everyone is used to them being together. All touchy feely. Cause that's the way it's always been. Maybe not to this extent, but Sam is sure the added depth of their relationship will go unnoticed.

And if it doesn't, it doesn't. After everything that's happened, it really seems so insignificant to her. Not the love, but the fact that they are both... well, girls. Sam really doesn't care what people at school think. And her mom wouldn't mind. She already thinks of Brooke as her own daughter... and her mom wouldn't mind! Besides she's never gona find out.

"I'm sure I've eaten your mom's chocolate chip cookies", Brooke says after she's stopped laughing, "I'm sure of it."

"You haven't", Sam replies. The girls come to a stop, when they make it to Sam's locker, "Believe me. She never lets anyone, but me, taste them."

Brooke frowns, "It doesn't make sense", she says.

Sam glances at her and grins, then turns her attention to the lock, "Yeah. I said that already."

"I know", Brooke replies, "I just like repeating your words", she says when Sam pulls open her locker door, "Makes me feel smart."

Sam frowns too and picks up a book, "Why? You are a lot smarter than me", she says and takes another book, "You are like super smart. Hyper smart even. Look at your grades."

"No I'm not. I just study a lot."

"What's the difference?", Sam asks banging the door shut, and turning to face her girlfriend.

Brooke shrugs, "Well... anyone can get good grades by reading. But you understand stuff. Like important stuff... you know?"

Sam shakes her head and grins, "No, I don't", she says.

Brooke's inferiority complex is quite adorable to Sam. And yet quite disturbing at the same time. The blonde tries so hard to make everything perfect, and even when she succeeds in it, it isn't enough. She never sees her own accomplishments as something great.

The blonde leans close to Sam, "I so wanna kiss you right now", she whispers.

"Here?", Sam says, and her grin changes into a confused one, "What about them?", she asks letting her eyes sweep across the hall.

"Who?", a sneaky smile slowly appears on the blonde's face. Her hand starts tracing up her lover's arm, "I don't see anyone but us."

Sam starts to get a little uncomfortable. She looks around the corridor once more. And, though, no one is looking directly their way, she knows more than a few of the other students is spying at them in secret. Cause it's Brooke McQueen, she's talking to.

Sam bows her head slightly, "You need to see an eye-guy Brooke. There's something definitely wrong with your vision."

"Yeah, there is, I know", Brooke's hand doesn't stop. It still keeps gently rubbing Sam's arm, "But it's nothing physical."

"What?", Sam frowns, not understanding what the blonde is getting at.

The grin on Brooke's face widens, "It's your fault", her voice is getting louder, "You've hypnotized me, you little witch. Made it so I only have eyes for you."

"Oh, okay", Sam laughs a little, "Very cute Brooke", she thinks the blonde has gone far enough.

But the blonde disagrees, "So can I?", she asks, "Kiss you?", the last words are barely audible.

"No Brooke!", Sam yells out, drawing much unwanted attention to them, "Now stop it", she adds, lowering her voice down. She starts moving again, walking past the blonde, hoping the girl will let it go. When Brooke catches up with her again, a small but noticeable tension descends over them. Sam feels the need to break it immediately, "I wanna keep you as my dirty little secret", she whispers huskily.

"I'm not dirty", Brooke answers with a strained cheeriness to her voice, "I just took a shower."

Sam stops on her tracks, "Without me?", she pouts. Brooke turns to face her and nods, "That's not fair", Sam goes on pretending to be hurt.

"Neither is withholding kisses", Brooke shoots back, "Dirt-girl."

Sam grins when she sees Brooke is doing her damnedest to keep her face straight, "Well then. I guess we could make a deal", she says, again grabbing the blonde's hand, "Wanna skip the last class?"

Brooke looks down at the hands. She's silent for a few seconds. And then lifts her head again, "Sure. I mean, I'm not the one who's flunking", she too grins, "What are you proposing?"

"A kiss for a shower."

Brooke bows her head again, and looks at Sam under her brow. Trying to play the innocent-little-girl role, "Kei", she replies with a whisper, and a shy smile.

There's a smile on both girls' faces as they turn around and start strolling down the hall again. The bell rings indicating the start of yet another class. They don't even hear it.

"How about a kiss in a shower?", the blonde asks as they distance themselves from the other students. Walking towards the exit.

"Just a kiss?"

A quiet giggle drowns in the general bustle, "For starters."

Sam pushes the door open for her girlfriend, and then follows the blonde outside, letting the door slide shut behind them.

Last of the Kennedy High people rush to their classes. The halls are empty again.

Chapter Four:

Eye of the Tornado (2/2)

A low thumping sound, followed by a smothered curse, interrupts Jane as she's about to shout again, "Ummm...", she recognizes her daughter's voice, "Yeah, we are... mom...", the girl's words are cut by a short giggle from Brooke, "What is it?"

Jane frowns in confusion. This is not what she was expecting, "Why is the door locked, Sam?", she asks.

Silence, broken by Sam, "Cause... we had to...", the girl talks haltingly, "I mean... it's locked?", Jane can tell the surprise in the voice is faked. She also hears more giggling, "Wow... why'd you lock the door... BROOKE?", the blonde's name is blurted out in a vehement tone.

Jane gets even more confused, "Look, it doesn't matter", she says, "Josh is here. You want me to send him in?"

Another silence. And low whispered words. There are times when Jane can't understand her teenage daughters at all. They act so weird sometimes. Wait a second... daughters? The plural form hits her mind with stunning force. When did she start thinking of Brooke as her own daughter? It certainly wasn't a conscious choice. Not that it's bad thing. It actually feels kind of nice. Because Brooke is a sweet girl. A girl, who Jane has always thought, has had more than her fair share of setbacks.

A goofy grin takes over her face, as she keeps standing there, behind the door, lost in thought.

A low rattling sound draws her attention back to reality. The door pulls open and Sam's agitated form stands in front of her, "Mom? What the Hell?", the brunette shakes her head, "Why didn't you answer?"

"I'm sorry... what?", Jane replies peeking over Sam's shoulder. She tries to catch a glimpse of Brooke, but doesn't succeed. Instead she sees Sam's room, which is in a state of disarray. Clothes are spread out all over the place.

"Why does Josh", Sam talks slowly, pressing each word, "Want to see Brooke?"

"He doesn't", Jane answers, and then gets distracted again, this time by Sam's clothes. The ones the girl is wearing, "He wants to...", she does her best to finish the thought, but doesn't quite succeed, "I'm sorry, but why on earth are you wearing pajamas?", she asks, shaking her head once.

"Uhmm...", Sam starts mumbling, and takes a quick glance to her side, where Jane expects Brooke is, "Cause, well, it's the only clean thing I have. When are you planning on doing the laundry anyway?"

"Never mind that", Brooke intervenes, and steps into view, "What does Josh want?"

Jane is glad that at least the blonde looks quite normal, if her hair is a little messy. But that's nothing compared to the other weirdness vibes she's getting, "He wants to see Sam", Jane finally states. She gives Brooke a warm smile.

The blonde doesn't smile back. She seems a little troubled, "Sam?"

"Me?", this time the surprise in the brunette's voice is real.

"Yes", Jane nods and looks at Sam again, "So maybe you wanna throw on some of your less dirty clothes? And I'll ask him to wait in the kitchen."

The woman, having said her peace, turns and walks away. Both girls stare at her distancing back for a moment. And then Jane disappears around the corner.

"What do you think he wants?", Brooke asks in a confused voice. All her previous amusement has disappeared. She dreads seeing Josh these days. Ever since she broke it off with him some months ago. And why not even before that. She has never actually enjoyed the boy's company. Dating him was just something she did.

"I have no idea", Sam answers and starts rummaging through the clothes on the floor.

Brooke observes the operation with mild interest, "You know, you should take better care of your things", she says after a few seconds.

Sam glances up at her, and then resumes her task, "Hey, I didn't throw these here", the brunette says, and picks up a dark blue shirt, "You did."

"They were on the bed!", she exclaims loudly.

"In perfect order!", Sam replies and stands up.

Brooke shuts up when the brunette starts changing her clothes, "Maybe he wants to ask you out", she then says, even though she knows better. It's not gona lead in any place good, but sometimes she can't help herself, "On a date", she'd want Sam to point out the absurdity of the scenario, but for some reason the brunette never does.

Sam glances at her again, "Yeah", she says in a mocking tone, while pulling on the shirt, "Enjoying the show, Brookie?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "It's okay. But I wouldn't pay for it, if that's what you're asking", she states blandly. Sam only grins and zips up her jeans, "Why the HELL did you put on your pajamas?"

"Hey!", Sam protests, "You shut up right now with that. Without my quick wits, we would've been so caught, it's not even funny."

"Oh yeah. You were great. Ummm... yeah... I mean... ummm...", Brooke starts mumbling with her big eyes wide open, "...locked?", she lifts her hand and starts scratching her head.

Sam tries her hardest not to grin. She picks up her pajama top and throws it at Brooke, "Shut up", she says, laughing a little.

The brunette escapes the room with the blonde in tow, "Oh... well...", she's still imitating Sam's voice, "It was all Brooke's fault, mom!", she throws in with a whiny voice and stops walking. Brooke really doesn't want to see Josh. Not even when the curiosity is killing her, "Sam?", she says with her normal tone this time. The brunette also stops, and turns around, "I'll be in my room."

Sam looks at her for a second and then nods.

Brooke sees the brunette disappear the same way her mother did only minutes before. She then retreats down the corridor and takes the door on the opposite wall to Sam's.

This room is not even half the size of her old room, in the palace. In fact, the whole apartment would probably fit into her old room. It bothers her sometimes, that a perfectly fine house is just sitting empty there, while they're cramped into this tiny box. Perfectly fine house. She shouldn't think that way, she should hate the place. She should be disgusted by the idea of stepping into that house again. But she isn't.

Brooke walks up to her desk, sits down, and pulls out a diary from the drawer. She opens up the book and skims through the first pages. She hasn't gotten much done yet, all her free time is spent with Sam. And it really isn't that hard of a choice, between making new memories with the brunette, or reliving old ones. Even when the old ones are so great, it still isn't a fair competition.

The girl picks up her bookmark. A photograph of the two of them in the old playground. She can't remember who took it, but she does know it was taken only weeks after they first met. She's even wearing the same yellow raincoat, while Sam's sporting red overalls. What she wouldn't give from a picture of Sam in the blue coat and hat! Memories are all fine and well, but she can never trust them to be accurate. Like with this one, in the picture Sam has long hair, tied to a ponytail. And Brooke remembers perfectly well, that the girl's hair was cut real short when they met. So, either the photo was taken long after they met, or her memory is failing her.

Brooke lays down the picture, and picks up a pen. She reads back the last page, and then starts writing. Words come easily to her, when she's writing only for herself.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

Josh, the boy wonder. All in all, I guess he is a good guy. Certainly he didn't deserve the treatment I gave him. I mean, it was wrong of me to date him, when I was so totally in love with another person. But I did.

Yet another desperate attempt to make my life more perfect. I'll never be rid of the need to be perfect. During these few moments of clarity, I understand how stupid it is. How stupid I am. I don't need to be perfect. But I also know, that tomorrow morning, I'll spend an hour in front of the mirror. Covering every flaw in my face. Fixing my hair just right.

I suggested to Sam, that maybe Josh wanted to ask her out. It's this fear that keeps plaguing me. I know Sam has, or at least had, a mild crush on him. At one point in time. Even though she kept pushing me towards him, I sometimes got the feeling like she wanted him for herself. It's silly. Especially now. When I'm totally convinced she loves me. But some things are just rooted so deep in my head, there is no way of getting rid of them. No way.

And you should never underestimate the appeal of normality. I know Sam doesn't want our relationship becoming public knowledge. I know she wants to stay in the closet. And that's not healthy. That's not the way to build a long-term relationship. So I'm worried, she'll one day decide I'm not worth the extra trouble. That she'd be better off with a nice guy, like Josh.

Even I toy with the idea, when the perfectionist in me makes one of its more powerful entrances. But I am so far gone into Sam, there is no turning back. Not anymore. If I can't have her, I don't want anyone. If I could only be as sure about her, then everything would be perfect. But I'll never be sure, insecurity is another one of my quirky qualities.

***

"Brooke?", she says, and walks into the room.

The blonde girl by the table startles, and spins her head around, "Oh. Sam. You scared me", she says with a smile.

Sam walks closer to the girl, and takes a peek over her shoulder. Brooke is writing in her diary. The new diary. The one she never lets Sam see, "Getting much done?", she asks, and politely looks away.

Brooke shrugs, and closes the book. She pauses for a moment, and then opens it again, just enough to retrieve the photo from between the pages, "You remember when this was taken, Sam?", she asks and hands the picture to the brunette.

Sam studies it in silence for some ten seconds. A sad smile twists on to her mouth, as she remembers the time so long ago. When the world was new, and not so complicated. When she and Brooke still had four parents between them. Instead of one. When they were still just really good friends, "Sure, I remember", she says, and turns to look at the other girl, who's sitting on the chair, and looking up at her, "It was about two weeks after we met. Your baby-sitter took it."

"That's what I thought!", Brooke says, and takes back the picture, "But didn't you cut your hair short, like only a week after we met?"

Sam furrows her brow, "Yeah. You're right, I did", she says, "That's weird. Maybe I'm wearing a wig in it?", she suggests with a grin.

"A wig?", Brooke says frowning, "I think, I'd remember a wig", she nods. Sam keeps smiling at the girl for a time, and then goes and sits down on the bed. Brooke waits a while, and then asks the question she wanted to ask the second Sam got back, "So, what did he want?"

Sam doesn't answer immediately. She sees the anxiety on the blonde's face. And hears the tension in her voice. She knows what Brooke is afraid of, and hates that she has to strengthen those fears, "You were right", she says trying to sound casual.

"He asked you out?", Brooke makes a disbelieving face, and cranes her neck forward. Sam nods once, and smiles again, "God! Who the Hell does he think he is!"

"Relax, Brooke. He couldn't have known. About us", Sam says, trying to calm down the girl.

"But still! He knows you're my best friend! That should be enough", Brooke says, sounding outraged. It should be enough, Sam agrees. But still... you can't blame the guy too much. Especially if you're in Brooke's shoes, and have been totally dishonest with him from the start, "I hope you threw him out?"

Sam grins, and looks away, "Not exactly. I told him I was seeing someone else, though."

"You did?", Brooke asks, and can't help but smile, "You told him it was me?"

"Eh... no?", Sam frowns, and turns back towards the blonde, "Would've been easier to just rip his heart out, and be done with it", she says. Sam isn't even absolutely certain, that isn't what Brooke would want. Not literally of course. But metaphorically. Brooke has a tendency to get mean, when she feels threatened. But she also has the capacity to show the greatest compassion. Sam has seen it happen. Even when her own life has been pure Hell, Brooke can still find the strength to help someone in pain. Or maybe it's just because of it.

"What are we gona do about it, then?", Brooke asks.

"Nothing", Sam says, a little confused. There is nothing they have to do, isn't it clear?, "He won't do it again", she says.

Brooke is quiet for a time. She purses her lips, and looks closely at Sam, "Would you... you could...", the blonde starts stuttering, "If you wanted to, you could go out with him, Sam."

"What?", Sam frowns again, and can't believe what she's hearing.

"I mean... if you want to", Brooke says nodding quickly, "It's okay... I know you want something more from this life, something I can't ever give you. So you should..."

"What?!", Sam shouts, and stands up, "Why would you say something like that?! I love YOU, Brooke!"

"I know!", Brooke assures her immediately. Sam can see the blonde's eyes misting up, "But there is other stuff too. Sometimes love isn't enough. And I don't... I couldn't bare it, if I took something away from you."

Sam stands still, and observes the other girl keenly. She tries to see what Brooke is thinking, where she's heading with this. Usually, it's easy for her, to get inside the blonde's head. But times like these, she can't for the life of hers understand the girl, "Love is always enough, Brooke", Sam says, and walks up to the other girl. She would like to scream some sense into the girl. But she can't, when the blonde looks so pitiful, "Love is enough by definition", she says kneeling down in front of her.

Brooke brings her hand up, and brushes it through Sam's brown locks, "But, what if you some day want..."

"Stop it!", she says sternly, "I want many things. Right now, I want you."

"But...", Brooke still whines.

Sam throws her hands around the blonde, and pulls her close to her chest, "But nothing", she whispers. Brooke's arms tentatively circle her back, and then squeeze her hard, "The day I want something else, you'll be the first to know."

Brooke tenses up, and Sam immediately regrets her stupid words. But she doesn't take them back. Brooke should be strong enough to face reality by now. And after a while, the blonde eases up again. Starts breathing, and stroking her hands on Sam's back, "Tell me, how you want me", she says.

Sam smiles relieved that the tiresome subject is over and done with. At least for now, "Preferably naked, and in my bed", she whispers huskily into Brooke's ear.

"So, I'm just a sex toy for you?", the blonde girl asks, and crushes Sam even harder with her hug.

"Yup", Sam answers, and pulls away a little. Brooke lets go just enough, so they can see each other. The blonde is smiling now. Dried up tears have smudged the girl's face.

"Works for me", she says shrugging, "As long as we're clear on that."

"Good", Sam replies, pressing her forehead against Brooke's. Their noses touch lightly, and the blonde closes her eyes. Sam brings her hands on each side of Brooke's head, and tilts it backwards. She pushes closer and kisses the blonde. Brooke's kisses always manage to take her over, make her lose control. Make her lose her grip on reality. No matter how hard she tries to stay on top of things, it's always left up to the blonde girl to put a stop to it. There is a difference in how they feel about each other, and Sam knows it. Her love is rawer, more consuming. More like it should be at her age. Brooke's on the other hand is... in a way more mature. It's not as much about lust. Brooke's love for her is evident in every aspect of their lives. But in another way, it's also more immature than hers. The way the blonde seems dependent on her, like she couldn't live without her. It's scary sometimes.

Brooke finally ends the kiss, and pulls away, releasing Sam from her thoughts. The blonde opens her eyes, and looks straight into Sam's, "Did your mom leave already?", she asks. Sam shakes her head, "Too bad", Brooke grins, "Guess you can't have me then."

Sam groans, and throws her head back. And then turns a hopeful look back towards the blonde, "I could go hurry her up", she says.

Brooke shrugs, "Suit yourself", she says, and crosses her arms across her chest.

< end of chapter four >

Thanks for reading,
Megan

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