We Could Be Dreamers

13

"Just consider," I say to Sam animatedly. "We go. To. Prom."

Sam raises an eyebrow, stretching out on my bed. The Good Place plays in the background. "Prom?" She asks slowly. "Seriously?"

"What?" I protest. "It could be fun. Who knows? You've never gone." 

"That's true," Sam nods. "Because it's like thirty bucks and popular people like prom and it's straight as hell. Actually, wait. Scratch that. Hell is gay. It's ours. Prom is straight as fuck." 

I sigh and tilt my head back. "All fair points," I nod. "But. Brooke's going to prom. So."

The corner of Sam's mouth quirks up into a smile. "So you want to go to prom and... what? Impress her with your dance moves?"

"No!" I scowl. "Well. Maybe. But she's going. So I wanna go. And I kinda sorta maybe wanted to ask her to go with me. As my date." I stare at the blankets, feeling my face heat up a bit. 

"Awwww." Sam leans forward, propping her head up with a fist. "That's sweet. But if you're going with Brooke anyways, why do you need me to go too? Reconsidering my 'seduce Jason' plan?" 

I stifle a laugh. Sam's always been great at getting people to fall for her, but Jason...

Yeah, somehow I don't think that'll work. 

"Not this time," I reply. "I just. It'd be really great if you were there." 

"See, and I get that," Sam says. "Since I'm amazing and all. But still..." she shrugs. "I mean, what happened to watching low-budget horror movies and eating dollar store junk food? Prom's thirty dollars a person—that's sixty bucks between us. I mean, you do realize how many off-brand Twinkies and Mars Bars we could buy with that kind of money, right?"

I sigh. I can't force Sam to come, and it doesn't seem like she'd like prom that much anyways. Still, it'd be nice to have her there. 

"Alright," I say, resigned. "You don't have to come."

"Wait." Sam looks at me. "But you're still going?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Oh." She looks away, and I can tell she's trying to hide the way hurt flickers across her face. "Well, have fun, then. It's gonna be great." Sam forces a smile, meeting my gaze again. "Brooke'll be lucky to have you as her date."

I feel my cheeks heat up a little bit. "I don't even know if she's going to say yes yet."

"She'll say yes," Sam says dismissively. "Seems like she likes you."

"You really think so?" 

"Yeah, I do," she smiles.

And fuck fuck fuck, I'm an awful friend. Because even while I'm cancelling all my usual plans with Sam, even when I'm missing lunches with her and I can't even stick up for her when my kind of sort of friend is being a piece of literal human trash, here she is. Sweet and encouraging and amazing. 

"Thanks, Sam," I say genuinely.

"No problem," she replies like she always does. 

And that seems like the end of the conversation. 

So Sam leans against my shoulder, and rest my head on top of hers, and we watch The Good Place in silence.