souls of black | fever in, fever out

chapter 97: the black knight

"Samantha? Samantha—"
She stirred a bit but she was still in that twilight sleep: his callused hands were still soft to the touch on her shoulder. For a second, she had forgotten where she had fallen asleep at. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the sight of his blurred silhouette next to her, but she had no idea if they were back home or somewhere else. For a second, she swore that it was a dream.
She blinked her eyes a few times and Alex came into her focus, with that little plume of gray up top like a little feather against the helmet of darkness upon his head.
"What is it?" she asked him with a break in her voice. "What time is it?"
"It's—" He stopped. "I don't know." He leaned forward to the seats in front of them. "You know what time it is, Tiffany?"
"It's almost two in the morning, Alex," Tiffany told him in a soft voice; Chuck had fallen asleep next to her.
"Almost two o'clock in the morning," Alex relayed back to her, and he stood up right then with his head bowed against the upper compartment overhead. "I have to use the bathroom."
"Oh! Oh, damn—"
Sam moved her legs towards the aisle so he could slide past her to the aisle itself. Alex almost lost his balance but he caught himself on the top of her seat: he hung right above her such that the thighs of his jeans were right up in her face.
"Easy now," she warned him as she held still for him.
"For real," he whispered to her, and he continued on to the aisle itself. She watched him go back towards the other side of the plane, but then she returned to the back of the seat before her. She sighed through her nose, and then she turned her attention to the window next to her, and the darkness out there.
The problem with leaving Los Angeles as early as they did: it would be so early in the morning by the time they landed in Munich, and yet once Louie told her about it, she merely took it in stride. As long as it got her far away from Bill for a while, she was okay with it being so early in the day upon hitting the tarmac. She gazed out to the cavernous darkness outside and she thought back to the first flight over the Atlantic.
That time around, she would be closer to Sweden. There had to be a way up there somehow, at any given point whatsoever. She had to visit that road for herself, as graceless as it seemed at that moment, in her mind at two o'clock in the morning.
Indeed, when Alex slid by her right then, she couldn't help but think of Cliff right then and there. And she wondered if Anthrax themselves were on that same flight with them, or if they had taken another different red eye from them. She glanced up to the low pale ceiling once again, at the dim shadows that crossed it all, and she pictured Cliff right above her. She pictured him there and with his thighs right before her face.
She thought back to their encounter in the subway. To think she got that close with Joey twice but not once more like with Cliff. She closed her eyes and she pictured him right there right next to her.
Left behind in that road up in Sweden in the two years before, and yet she could still touch him. The darkness outside there warranted a touch from him, even as he was far away somewhere else now.
She felt something brush against her shoulder and she opened her eyes, and she peered up again. For a split second, she swore that her wish had come true and Cliff had returned for her for another touch. But the streak on the head told her otherwise.
Alex took his seat next to her complete with the smell of soap about his hands. She thought about the mysterious man in her dreams, and had Alex not looked over at her with his eyes still riddled with sleep, she swore that it was actually him. Or maybe it was her exhausted mind getting to her.
It was late after all.
He rubbed his hands together even though they were plenty clean at that moment.
"When we get there, let's have some of that nice fresh streudel together," he suggested in a low voice.
"Streudel and some spaetzel?" she added.
"Ooh, yeah. Streudel, spaetzel, and that authentic German beer, too."
"German beer? Alex, you're a month away from twenty yet."
"Yeah, but I can still have a bit of beer when we get to Munich, though. When you fell asleep, the stewardess recommended it to me from the food cart but I was like 'nah. I'll wait until we get to Munich.'"
"With me, you said," she asked him with her eyes barely open.
"Yeah. Well, I think Eric and Greg would like to join us, too. But I'd hate to think of you walking around the streets of a foreign city solo."
"Alex, we're gonna be in Germany, though, not L.A."
"Sure. But I don't really wanna do it by myself, though."
"You are still just a boy after all," Sam pointed out as she felt her eyelids growing heavy from the feeling of it being so late.
"And I think that—" He nestled down in the seat next to her as if he was cold despite it being the end of August. He then cleared his throat. "You know, I think that since—you and I have hung out a couple of times already, we should do it more, too."
"Are you asking me out?" she asked him and she fluttered her eyes open at that.
"No, no. No! I just wanna hang out while we're in Bavaria. And—y'know, I don't really wanna do it by myself. And I'd hate to see you as a third wheel with Chuck and Tiffany in front of us here, and I have no clue what Louie is gonna do, especially with the Cherry Suicides nearby."
"They're here right now?"
"I don't think so. But before you fell asleep, I heard him mention them and he said it in a context of—they're gonna be within range of us."
It was going to be nice to see Zelda again if nothing else. He huddled back down in the seat with his shoulders hunched a bit. He bowed his head a little bit to relish in the warmth of the seats around them. Through her blurred vision, Sam glanced down at his waist and his thighs. When she landed on him back at the house, he still felt a little bit soft, even though it was obvious he slimmed down a bit more: the bottom hem of his shirt started to bunch around his slender hips.
He closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. The bangs coupled with the gray streak made her think of a little rag doll.
Even the most mismatched of rag dolls needed to be held and loved. She leaned closer to him, but given the arm rest between them, she couldn't lean up against his head and shoulder. Instead they both fell asleep next to each other: the crown of his black hair remained about an inch from the tip of her nose.
She pictured the mysterious man right next to her, right in Alex's place. He appeared in the form of a dark silhouette against the sunrise. He lifted his head and showed her the brim of his hat, as black as night against the golden light of the sun on the horizon. Somewhere between him and the sunrise itself was the neon green of the northern lights.
He turned his head towards her.
"Cliff?" she asked him, and he lifted his hat once again. She had left the hat he had given her back at the house in Lake Elsinore. She would have to bust it out again if and when she found the chance once again. She knew those eyes anywhere, that straight nose, those little wisps of a mustache over his upper lip.
"Cliff—!" she said in a hushed voice. Almost two years since he was killed in that bus accident and she could burst into tears at the very sight of him.
"Where have you been?" he greeted her: his voice echoed as if he stood down in a canyon beneath a surface of some sort.
"Where have I been? Where have you been?"
"I should tell you that the clock is your friend."
"What does that even mean?" she asked him.
"You should touch the hands of the clock—take him with you, all the way to the very end."
"Should I hang out with Alex or Joey?"
But he never replied. Instead, he leaned his head back into the seat's headrest and closed his eyes. Sam moved in closer to him and she caressed his chest. Lighter than air and yet she could feel him underneath her hand. Right next to him, there on the window sill, stood an hourglass, but she couldn't tell if the pale sands had filled the top half or the bottom.
"Cliff—the clock is my friend," she repeated his words, but he never replied. She eyed the side of his head and the little stripe there. It faded and yet appeared at the same time, as it glowed under the back light of the sunrise, against the light itself.
"It's all a friend," he told her, as he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep right there.
"Cliff," she whispered into his ear. "Cliff!"
He never woke up. He went to sleep and never woke up, such that the very sight brought tears to her eyes.
"Cliff! Cliff!"
He faded with the light of the sunrise and he dissipated into dark shadows. The mysterious man had struck again, even more cryptic than before.
She shook herself awake, and that time to the first rays of amber sunlight outside the window. She leaned closer to the window pane, to the sight of the light pink and orange brushed upon the dark clouds over the ocean. They had to be nearing the British Isles soon enough. A short layover in London first and then the next flight took them to Munich.
She turned her attention to Alex still sound asleep there in the seat. His head leaned closer to the edge of the seat, but there was still an inch of clearance between them. His bangs obscured his deep set slumbering eyes, but she sank down a bit for a better look into his face.
Still as soft as a doll.
Anthrax were going to be near there. If nothing else, she had to at least see Joey again. Joey and that leather guitar strap that she and Belinda had made for him. If nothing, she had to at the very least see him from across a room somewhere. She had to see him before their new album dropped in the next month.
She had forgotten what it was called right then. She had just woken up right then after all.
She tried to picture the castle that they were supposed to play before in the next few days.
No wonder why Alex suggested hanging out to her earlier: they were going to be there a whole week before Testament took to the stage for that sudden tour date.
The speakers overhead crackled on right then.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," the captain said in a soft soothing voice, "we will be landing in London in about twenty minutes time. If you're headed over to the following cities, you might want to hustle to the terminal once we land because they're leaving early: Munich, Oslo, Vienna, and Brussels."
"Did you hear that, Chuck?" Tiffany said to him in a low voice.
"Hm?" He sniffled and stretched his arms over his head.
"When we land in a bit, we're going to have to run to the gate for the plane over to Munich."
"Oh, shit!"
Tiffany craned her neck and turned in her seat a bit for a better look back at Sam.
"D'you hear that, Sam?"
"I did, yeah." She turned her attention to Alex, still out like a light. "Want me to wake him?"
"We're still twenty minutes out," Tiffany replied, "but, um—do it when we're told to buckle in."
Sam nodded and she looked over at him again.
"Isn't he just precious?" Tiffany remarked.
"Who's precious?" Chuck echoed that.
"Alex. Look at him, babe. He looks like a little boy right next to Sam there." Chuck rubbed his eyes and then he turned around in his seat for a look back at Alex himself.
"Oh my god, he is."
Sam nestled back down in her seat next to him, still with an inch of clearance between them. He still smelled good, even after he slept there in that airline seat all night long. She stretched her back a bit: despite their being cushioned, the fact she couldn't lean back did a number on her spine and her shoulders.
Alex stirred a bit and then he rolled his head over towards the window pane. The plume of gray stood high over his brow, straight up as if it was a cowlick, and his skin as smooth as ever. She gazed on at him while he continued to sleep for another several minutes until a soft ding! caught her attention. The seat belt light flickered on and that was her cue.
"Alex—" she gently whispered to him. She leaned in closer to his ear. "Alex—"
His eyes fluttered open and he glanced over to her as if he had never been asleep for a moment.
"What's going on?" he asked her in a hoarse voice.
"We're gonna be landing in London in a bit," she told him.
"Oh, okay—" He rubbed his eyes and then straightened himself up.
"And we're gonna have to run to the gate for Munich, too," Tiffany told him.
"Oh, damn." He ran his fingers through his black curls and then shook them about. For a second, he resembled to Joey, and Sam was eager to see him running for the gate himself. That is if Anthrax were on the same flight as them.
Within time, they dipped through the early morning clouds and touched down in the heart of London. Chuck and Tiffany skirted up the aisle first, and after they let an old lady and her granddaughter through, Sam and Alex followed suit, and Greg, Eric, and Louie rounded it out right behind them. Sam wondered if their crew had already set things up there in Munich or if they too had taken another flight with Anthrax.
The seven of them darted their way through the narrow hallways of the airport all the way to customs, and then they continued onward to the flight over to southern Germany. At one point, Sam was happy that she didn't bring that black hat that Cliff had given her along with her to Germany. The rate at which they were running right then with their things on their backs like that, there was no way she could hold onto the crown of the hat as she helped Greg carry his bass guitar case all the way there.
They made the flight just in time before the gate closed.
Sam turned to Alex and the look of sleep still riddled about in his deep set eyes. He gave his black curls another toss back before he let her board the plane first.
That time she took to the window seat and he sat in between her and Greg. No sooner had Greg himself taken his seat next to them when the lights flickered on again. Nowhere did she see Joey or Frank or anyone else who seemed familiar to her on there.
If there was nothing else that Sam could find her way past, when flying while on tour or the flight across the country with Marla, it was the take off and the way in which it felt as though her stomach drifted up into her chest and her stomach. Apparently Alex wasn't too keen on it either: as the plane taxied the runway, he held onto the arm rest, much to her surprise. She flinched her hand back as though he had burned her and he snickered at that as well. She knew it was from nerves, but that little snicker left her confused a bit.
They rose up over the London skyline and then the cozy fields of western England. Within time, they flew past the Channel and against the rising sun before them. Given they were further north than she imagined, the sun wasn't as bright as it could have been there, but those first rays still shone through the windows across the aisle from them.
Within time, she peered out the window to the ground below them. Alex followed her gaze to beyond the window pane as well.
The dark forests down below as dark and rich as the very hair upon his head. Every so often, a neat, tightly woven town appeared within the trees. Nothing like the cities back in the United States which seemed to be sprawled over an area: they all stopped and ended as if they were modeled out of clay and then stacked atop one another. She glanced onward to the far side of the land itself. Not only was it neat and trim, but the forests down below made her think of upstate New York. Upstate New York following rounds upon rounds of lake effect rain.
"Wow," she breathed out.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Alex asked her.
"Oh, my god—this is—this is unreal."
"Like something straight out of a fairytale, ain't it?" Alex showed her the twinkle in his eye. Far more lush and green than the very British Isles themselves, and it was all accentuated by the rising sun as well: the tips of the trees appeared as though they had been kissed with caramel. Even though it was still rather early in the morning, the two of them were wide awake with the anticipation of being there in Germany.
"Guten Morgen, passengers," the captain declared through the speakers over their heads. "We will be landing in Munich in about thirty minutes. Remember, if you plan on heading to East Germany, you must go through the check points before customs before hand first."
"I can't believe we're actually gonna be that close to the Soviet Union," Greg declared.
"It's almost surreal, isn't it?" Alex said.
"Metallica went to Poland, didn't they?"
"Yeah, they did. Like—last winter."
"Really?" Sam asked them.
"I think so," Alex admitted, and he fetched up a yawn.
"They'd be the first band to have crossed the Iron Curtain if that's the case," Greg said with a yawn himself.
"One of these days, that wall is going to come down," Alex remarked. "It just has to."
"Agreed," Sam said, even though she wasn't as polished up on current events as Alex.
"Well, it's symbolic of a world divided. While we're all expanding and getting bigger in the grand scheme of everything, East Germany and the countries on the other side of the Iron Curtain are basically withering and dying. At least that's what I've seen."
"Because they've shut themselves out of it all," she followed along with him.
"Right! When you lock yourself in a bubble, you inadvertently make things uncomfortable at some point. You make your own world a horrible place to live in."
"I would think expanding comes with a price, though," she said.
"Oh, absolutely. You lose your sense of boundaries at some point. So—there kind of needs to be a balance there of sorts. That's how I imagine a perfect world would be. Not like in John Lennon's version to be completely honest, but in one where we can genuinely live in harmony with each other. That's my hope anyway."
She thought about Belinda's remark of him, in how he was precocious. He was a bit, but therein lay a good quality. Something else she couldn't exactly put her finger on with him. Imagine a perfect world, but nothing that she could fathom however.
She recalled his background right then, in how he was raised by collegiate professors, both of them in the social sciences no less. He was precocious by the way in which he was raised: it just came to him by nature as a result. And as a result, he was an outlier.
They strapped themselves in in no time and Sam was eager to set foot in West Germany. Alex held onto the arm rest once again as the plane started to descend towards the earth. Everything shook about a bit with some turbulence and Sam recoiled in her seat.
"I don't like that, either," Alex confessed to her in a low voice. He gripped onto the arm rest and he pulsated his fingers at the motion around them.
They descended further through the clouds and Sam closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to think about it. She rested her hands in her lap all the while as well.
Cliff burst into her mind right then. Even if they were in Bavaria, she would be closer to him in spirit no matter what happened during those final moments of the flight. She pictured the hourglass next to her.
The clock is your friend, he told her. The clock is your friend.
Alex cleared his throat but he never said anything right at that moment, and she swore that it was the mysterious man from her dreams for a few seconds. But then she opened her eyes, and they were right above the low buildings and the neighboring sun kissed forests. The plane tapped onto the tarmac and they leaned back in their seats against the force of the landing. Alex and Greg straightened themselves upright once they taxied about the runway.
"Quite the adventure, ain't it?" the latter joked.
"For real!" Sam declared and the three of them laughed.
Soon, they stepped off of the plane and they stood out in the open. Even in the heart of the city, Sam took a deep breath of that fresh morning dew. Twice the fresh beauty of upstate New York, and far more than that of the hills in California.
"Hotel's this way, kids," Tiffany called out to them, and the three of them followed her, Chuck, Eric, and Louie to the far end of the street. Sam peered up to the bluish gray sky overhead every so often on the walk there. She thought of the nicknames she had given to Alex and Greg the few weeks before: the prince and the black knight. As they walked through the streets of Munich together, the more those nicknames felt appropriate, especially with her behaving as Rapunzel for a brief time prior to then.
Soon, they checked into their hotel and, once he set his things down next to his bed in the shared room with Greg and Louie, Alex turned his attention to Sam. Even though the jet lag was obvious to her at that point, he looked so refreshed against it all.
"Let's have some breakfast, shall we?" he suggested to her.
"We shall!" she said.
"It's a ride up to Schweinfurt in a couple of days after this anyways," he pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders, "may as well enjoy our time together, you know? I've gotta change my clothes, though."
He crouched down to his overnight bag and dug out a clean black button up shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. Sam took her seat on the edge of the bed and he headed into the bathroom with his clothes cradled in his arms. A knock on their door caught her attention and she laughed at the memory of that night in Corona. How Chuck knew someone was knocking on their door even from the dead of sleep was beyond her.
She made her way over to the door and she peeked through the peephole. She recognized that fine lush dark hair down to his shoulders and she gasped as a result.
She opened the door.
"Hi, Frankie!" she greeted him.
"Hey!" His face lit up at her and he threw his arms around her. "I wasn't expecting to see you here! What's happening, girly cue?"
"Hanging out with Testament while they're filling in for Megadeth. What's going on with you?"
"We're staying in the room down the hall right now," he answered and he stroked the side of his hair with three fingers. "Is Alex around?"
"He's in the bathroom changing right now. What's up? I can tell him."
"Oh, I just wanted to know if he had breakfast yet."
"We like just got here so—we're about to."
"Oh, okay. Well, he better hustle—all that fresh fruit and Bavarian cream is gonna go bye bye soon enough here."
"I'll tell 'em. Don't you worry 'bout a thing."
"Fuhgetaboutit," he declared with a wave of his hands.
"Fuhgetaboutit," she echoed him, and he burst out laughing at that, and he doubled back down the hall. Sam then closed the door with a warm blush across her face. It felt as though she hadn't seen him in forever. Such was the life of an art student, and one who had all but been sent out to exile. She turned her attention to the bathroom door, which Alex had left ajar.
She peeked through that small crack in the door at him. Even though she had seen him without a shirt on, there was something about him there on the other side of the room, bare chested and with his jeans undone a bit. She could make out the sight of his bare skin underneath his belly button and his slim body: even with only a small view of him, she could come to the conclusion that he was far more beautiful than she had given him credit before. But she couldn't tell if he was more beautiful than Joey: she would have to catch a better of him, and she had no idea as to when that would happen, if at all.
It took her a second to realize that he was posing before the mirror and she had to stifle a giggle against that lest he hear her. She walked on back to the bed to give him his privacy and in a few moments time, he returned out of the bathroom in those clean clothes and his black curls wet from the faucet.
He gestured for her to follow him out of there and into the spacious clean front lobby of the hotel, where they were in fact met with a table full of fresh fruits from lingonberries to big red apples that were larger than her fist, and whipped pure white Bavarian creams, and so much bread and pastries. The very sight of the cornucopia before them left Sam feeling overwhelmed, such that she didn't know what to take for herself. But Alex was eager to fill his plate full with one of everything: he rounded it out with a glass of water while she offered to get them cups of coffee.
"My goodness," she remarked once she sat down across from him at the little table next to the main window of the lobby.
"I'm not turning down free food," he told her, "especially strudel and this fresh German coffee, too."
He picked up his glass and downed a little drink of his iced water, and then he turned to the coffee.
"Oh, my god," he breathed with his eyes closed and his head tilted back a bit. "Try it, Samantha. You'll never want another cup of coffee back in the States after this."
Indeed, she did: warm, rich, and so full of that bean flavor. The cream within was delicate but not to where she could hardly taste it. A perfect balance of east and west.
"Makes you wanna speak German," she joked.
"Right?" he chuckled, and then he stopped himself right in his tracks. "You know—seeing as we have a week here—at some point, we could probably get on a train and go up to Copenhagen and visit Lars. Metallica are up that way right now on their tour."
"Holy shit, really?"
Alex nodded his head with his eyebrows raised high in excitement.
"Oh, yeah. I've heard him talk about Copenhagen all the time back in the Bay Area—when Cliff was alive, too. He describes it as a mere extension of Germany but—" He shook his head as he brought his little white coffee mug up to his lips. "—I don't think so."
"But you and me, though?" she echoed him.
"Yeah."
She squinted her eyes at him as he took another sip of the coffee. All the while, he peered over the rim of the mug at her with those deep eyes. There was something rather serene about them despite their seriousness. Something serene and hypnotic, and albeit a feeling that felt as though it had come out of left field. Something he still wasn't telling her.
So many contradictions with this boy and therein came a moment where she realized she had no idea where to begin with him. At least Joey was simple with his depths: Alex seemed to meander and spin her in circles at that point.
He then peered past her at something on the other side of the vast room and knitted his eyebrows together.
"What's up?" She turned her head so as to follow his gaze, and there on the far side of the room, right at the end of the buffet table, stood a short man in a white T shirt.
"Oh, nothin'," Alex assured her with a wave of his hand, "I thought that guy over there looked like Scott to me."
"Hair's way too thin," she agreed with him and he nodded before he took another sip of his coffee. She did as well but then she realized that she hadn't a glass of water herself. If nothing, she could go over there and ensure that that man over there was not who Alex believed him to be.
"I'll be right back," she told him.
"I'll be right here," he assured her as he sipped some more. That time, he closed his eyes and groaned in his throat at the warm feeling within him. Chuck and Tiffany strode into the room right then: her blonde hair glistened from a fresh shower; even from across the room, Sam could smell her perfume. But she made her way past the small clean white tables towards the pitchers of iced water and she swiped a glass. She glanced over at the man as he picked out a bagel for himself. Even with the thin hair, she recognized the side of his face, even though she hadn't drawn it up before.
"Scott!" she declared, and he turned in her direction.
"Hey!" he returned the favor: his black curls had thinned a bit with time, but she recognized him once he had turned around and showed her those thick dark eyebrows. He threw his arms around her and she returned the favor.
"Oh my god," he blurted out right into her ear, "oh my fucking god, how've you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in a million years."
"I live out in California now," she told him.
"Wait, what?" He held back and looked on at her, stunned.
"Yeah, I got sent out there for—school." For a second, she had forgotten why she had gone out there to California in the first place.
"Wow! So you actually moved across country and pitched a tent over there. For real?"
"For real, yeah."
"Wow! God, I've just been so out of the loop lately with everyone since I bailed from Anthrax." He paused for a second. "How're they doing, by the way?"
"They're doing excellent!" she declared. "They're supposed to release a new album soon. Like next month. I forget what it's called, though."
"Oh, damn." There was no mistaking that stern look upon his face. She brought her attention back to the crown of his head.
"Also, what's going on with your hair? I don't think it's ever been that thin before."
"Eh, it's just been getting thin lately," he confessed as he ran his fingers through the side, "I really have no idea why either. I think it might be from drinking but who knows really." She caught a glimpse of his wedding band as he moved his hand back to his chest.
"Is everything okay at home?" she asked him, and he peered over his shoulder to ensure no one was eavesdropping on them. Alex still sat clear across the room and everyone else around them was German.
"Marge hasn't been happy lately," he admitted in a low voice.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I keep wanting to practice and play some, but—she wants me to spend a lot more time with her. Like a lot more time with her. I don't really know what's gonna happen between us, Sam."
"But you seemed so happy, though," she recalled.
"At first we were. But now—I dunno what happened to be perfectly honest with you."
"Aw—I'm so sorry. Is that why you're here and not there?"
"Nah, Frankie and Charlie asked me to come along. Charlie was like 'dude, you gotta come with us to Monsters of Rock. This was your band after all.' And I was like, 'alright, alright', so I took the first flight outta New York a couple of days and I got here yesterday afternoon."
"It does get you away from there, though," she pointed out.
"Absolutely. I mean—what else am I gonna do?" He shrugged his shoulders and then he faced the table right next to them for some fresh whole fruit himself. And then the whole experience dawned on her: she was there, all alone, without her parents or either of her girl friends, but she was in good hands with them all.
"It's so weird being here without Marla or Bel or anyone really," she confessed to him.
"It's part of the whole experience, though," Scott pointed out. "I didn't think I would get married any time soon. And I didn't think I'd be here right now solo."
She thought about Alex's sentiments back on the plane, about the expansion of horizons.
Of course.
"So where are you staying at?" she asked Scott.
"I'm staying—right down the hall here." He pointed to the corridor to the right of her. "Third door on the left. So, if you need anything, just come and knock on the door. I don't know a word of German, even though my last name is."
"I was just telling Alex this coffee makes me want to learn it," she told him with a smirk on her face.
"Oh, for real! But I walked all around town here just yesterday and last night when I got here—you guys totally have to while you're here all week. You won't regret it in the very least, Sam."
She poured herself a glass of water and then Scott doubled back towards the hallway and back to his room. She returned to Alex, who began on his strawberry strudel and relished in every bite as if it tickled him between his legs.
"You were right," she told him as she sat back down.
"About what?" he asked her once he swallowed.
"That was Scott."
"No way!" he declared and his face lit up.
"Yeah, Frankie and Charlie asked to come along so he's staying down the hall here—" She pointed behind her. "He told me we have to walk around the place while we're here all week."
"That's the plan, y'know?" he inferred as he took another slow bite of strudel and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
"You are my best kept secret after all," she said in a low voice, and he swallowed it down.
"What's that even mean, anyway?" he asked her. Contradiction atop another contradiction.
Sam opened her mouth to explain that but she was cut off by Joey as he stood before them with his guitar slung down as far as that handmade strap warranted for him.
"Watch this," he boldly proclaimed for them.
"We're watching," she assured him, even though Alex had his head bowed by the sight of Joey's holding his guitar down so low against his body.
"In the middle of Germany, Joey?" Chuck called out to him from behind.
"I just wanna show Sam a new power move I came up with," Joey told him as he spread his feet apart, "especially since I haven't seen her in a long while. This is 'I own the universe, ya mother fuckers!'" He raised his arm up over his head with his thumb and his index finger pinched together even though he held no pick there. He nodded his head and he widened his brown eyes for her. His skin had grown darker since the last time they had seen each other. He actually appeared to be a black knight for her.
"That's so adorable, Joey," she told him, and she stood up in order to embrace him. "A true rock star now!"
She hadn't felt his slender body in so long it seemed; his fingers slithered through her hair and his lips grazed the side of her neck.
Oh to feel those soft lips again!
She sat back down at the table with her face warm and aglow. Joey then slung the guitar around his back and he bowed over to the buffet table for a plate of food himself.
Sam glanced over at Alex, who nibbled on his bottom lip at the sight of the guitar down so low. He was thinking it. She could sense he was thinking right then, and yet he didn't say anything lest there be a scene before them.
A contradiction indeed, and that following week would be interesting.