Look at me | SAM x DEENA | FEAR STREET 1994 |

Chapter 73

Today was Friday, meaning it was the day of prom. Most of the girls weren't at school during the day as they had some form of beauty appointments to ensure they were ready in time. Sam didn't care about prom enough to book anything. She thought she'd put some mascara on, a cute lip colour and a few dabs of highlighter to match her navy dress. She didn't know why she should put in the effort just to go to prom with someone she hated. So Sam decided to go to school, and she knew that since there were so many people missing the teachers wouldn't bother with setting actual work, she could use this time for her writing.

When she arrived at school it was just as quiet as she expected in her classes. She was sitting in her English class, one of few students who were there. She was so consumed by her writing she didn't even notice the teacher talking to her until the teacher clicked her fingers in front of Sam's face.

"Sam?" the teacher asked her.

Sam brought her attention to the teacher.

"Yes?" Sam responded, becoming a little anxious.

"What are you writing?" she asked Sam.

Sam felt her cheeks turn a little pink. She was self conscious of her writing. She had never shared it with anyone, and since it was so personal to her she didn't feel comfortable sharing that part of herself with a teacher.

"Just a story I came up with" Sam said quietly.

The teacher smiled at her.

"That's very interesting, what is it about?" the teacher asked with an even bigger smile.

Sam was taken aback at her genuine interest in Sam's writing. She looked around and saw that the few students that were in the class weren't paying Sam the slightest bit of attention, so she turned back to the teacher and explained the entire plot to her. She talked and talked until she got to the point of the story where she was at now, and how she was struggling to decide how to finish the chapter.

"Wow, Sam.." the teacher said in awe.

"W-what?" Sam asked nervously.

"That sounds so captivating!" she exclaimed.

Sam felt herself go red and she couldn't help but smile at the teacher's comment.

"May I ask you something personal?" The teacher asked.

Sam nodded and the vibe shifted a little between the two of them.

"Could I read it? Only if you're okay with it. It sounds so intriguing that I'd love to help you with it" she admitted.

Sam was shocked. No one had ever been that interested in anything she had ever done before. She didn't know what to feel. The story was quite personal to her, and it felt like a slight invasion of privacy if someone were to read her innermost thoughts, but then again, it wasn't her innermost thoughts as they were characterised or displayed through different events or characters in the story. She also noted that it would be a lot easier if she could get some help to articulate her writing better.

After a few moments of silence, Sam answered. "Yes" she told her.

"Thank you! I'll read it and get any feedback back to you ASAP" the teacher said, grinning.

The bell rung in that moment and Sam hesitated for a few seconds before giving in to the teacher's kind smile and handing her the book. She regretted it for a few seconds as she watched her teacher walk back to her desk and begin reading it as she waved to Sam. She couldn't go back now. Maybe this could help Sam, not just with her writing but with being honest about herself with other people. She could work on the shame she carried further if she shared this story with others and gained their perspective or opinion on the piece.

Now that she had nothing to do because her book was taken away, Sam was bored. She didn't feel like sitting in the empty classes doing nothing, so she signed out of the office for a "hair appointment" and just walked home. When she got home she climbed into her bed, getting ready for a nap. But she couldn't sleep. She kept tossing and turning and she didn't know why.

She decided to stop trying to nap and get out of bed and redirect her restless energy into what makeup she would be doing that night. She went through her makeup but she didn't have much so she went through anything her mom left. There wasn't much as she took everything she owned before she left, but she left a few things. Concealer here, some blush there. It was just enough for Sam to build a look. She then experimented with different hair designs, and as she was holding her hair in a ponytail to see how it would look she wondered why she was trying so hard.

She was someone that cared about her looks, but right now she had no one to impress. She didn't care about Peter, Sheila or any of their friends. So why could Sam not stop thinking about prom that night? The obvious answer was one she didn't want to admit. She hadn't thought about her in almost a few hours, but this dragged her back to square one. She couldn't escape the thought of her, she appeared everywhere. In the lines of books, or metaphors in poetry. Every time Sam looked into the mirror she didn't feel complete.

Her hand dropped the hair that was bunched into a fake ponytail and she ruffled it a little. She liked how it looked out. She put some heatless rollers in and decided to leave those in until she got ready. Then she heard the phone ring. When she answered it, there was silence for a few seconds. She was hopeful it was Deena, but she knew better than to hope for her ex-girlfriend to call her.

"Hello?" Sam finally asked.

"Oh hey babe! I thought I got the wrong number" she heard a douchey voice say.

It was Peter. She rolled her eyes at the sound of his voice and cringed at him calling her babe.

"Hey" Sam forced out, trying to not sound disgusted.

"Just calling to let you know that I'm going with the boys, so I can't pick you up anymore" he told her.

Sam realised that he was her only way to prom.

"Are you serious right now, Peter? You said you were going to drive me!" Sam scolded.

"Chill out! It's just the boys" Peter insisted, but this only angered Sam more,

"I have to fucking walk to my own prom?" Sam shouted.

"Just call a cab or something" Peter sighed irritably.

Peter's irritation drove Sam over the edge and she slammed the phone back onto the hook. It rung again and Sam just took the phone and let it hang off the hook so that her line was said to be "busy" and Peter couldn't call her anymore.

She couldn't believe him. She thought she couldn't hate her pathetic boyfriend anymore than she already did, now she had to either walk to her own prom or call a cab? Sam let out a loud scream and stomped up to her room. She climbed into her bed and couldn't help but sob from how angry she was. This was her last ever prom, she was going with a man she hated, she had to walk, she had no friends going with her and worst of all, she wasn't going with Deena. That was the icing on the shit cake that was Sam's life. When Deena left everything good left with Sam. Her sobbing tired her out a little and allowed her to finally drift off into a nap.