𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 - 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵

08

Sam almost wished that Deena could be mad at her. Give her the punishment she felt she deserved. She felt so guilty after everything, for taking Kennedy's side. But instead she talked to Sam like nothing ever happened. Honestly, it made Sam feel even worse.

How could Deena stay mad at Sam when it was obvious that she was trying her hardest to get on her good side? It was almost cute how desperate Sam was for Deena's approval, how badly she wanted to make her laugh, or even hear her voice. She was like a puppy, always looking for a nod yes or and 'okay'.

"Are you going to Kody's party?" Sam asks, already hoping for a specific answer.

"Kody and I don't have the greatest history.." Deena replies, remembering last year.

"Oh." Sam says lightly as a frown plays on her lips.

"Do you want me to go, Sam Fraser?" She questions eagerly.

Sam smiles and blushes, surprised at the question. She takes a pause from answering and quickly scoots over to retrieve Deena's thrown drumsticks in her moment of terror. Sam hands them to the brunette who takes them gratefully, her touch lingering by Sam's hand a little more than normal.

"Maybe I do want you to go."

"Maybe I will then." Deena concludes, biting her lip and stuffing her sticks back into her bag.

"If you do, maybe you could bring me one of those mixtapes?"

"You want a mixtape?" Deena asks, surprised.

"Yeah. You have some real life changing music." Sam jokes, playfully nudging Deena's shoulder with hers.

"It is some dope shit. I'll make you something." Deena announces, smirking at the blonde.

Sam is a mess of blushing and grinning. "You'll make me something? Like a special mix?"

Deena shrugs. "Yeah. Y'know, songs that remind me of you, all that."

"Songs remind you of me?"

"Yeah. I make certain mixes for friends and stuff."

Friends. The word stayed on Sam's brain for longer than she would've liked. She just couldn't get over it. She didn't know why, but she didn't like Deena calling them 'friends'. Even if it was a step up from Deena ignoring her, the thought wouldn't leave her brain. Like some seriously horrible tattoo that you're just stuck with.

"Don't you have class?" Deena asks suddenly, eyeing the blonde.

"Oh. Oh! Shit!" Sam swiftly gets up off the carpet and grabs her bag. "I'm expecting you at the party with your mix and that walkboy thingy now!" She says, rushing out the doors and giving Deena a quick salute of her forehead. "Until tonight!" She calls from the hallway.

Deena chuckles at the sound of Sam calling it a walkboy. "Until tonight." She whispers to herself, feeling the tiniest bit happy, having a weak surge of hope.