Brigitte Snaps - Ginger Snaps II

Part 6 - The Hillary Party

Sam rolls joints in preparation for Keaton Hillary's party. He's hoping to make over 400$ at this event alone since the Hillary boy knows absolutely everyone in Downs. He's like the Joey Donner of their tiny town.
Hopefully he'll make enough to afford food for the rest of November. If he doesn't, he'll have to live off pop tarts because the county greenhouse money goes to power and plumbing. His pot money is for personal enjoyment, and since the greenhouse hasn't been doing to well recently, food counts as personal enjoyment. Sam hates all this responsibility. He hates being an adult.
He heads to the phone and types in his moms number.
212-623-1141
He waits for it to ring and Barbra picks it up immediately. She sits by the phone every Saturday waiting for his call.
"Hey mom. It's me Sam." He says leaning against the greenhouse wall.
"Hey Sammy. How are ya?"
He hates that nickname. "I'm alright. You?"
"Just fine. You've been going to your meetings?"
Sam sighs and rubs his eye brows. It's all she ever wants to talk about. "Yeah, yeah. I got my 10 months last week." He says it quickly trying to brush it off.
Barbra squeals. "Yes Sammy! I'm so proud of you!.. You know, if your father was still here, he would be too."
Sam doesn't reply. He doesn't think his dad would be proud of him. He never was when he was alive. To be honest, he thought his son was a complete fuck up, and the fact that he even had to go to rehab was a disappointment in itself.
Sam changes the subject. "So uh, how's New York?"
Barbra let's out an old chuckle. "Oh it's just fine. Kenneth took me to the rotating restaurant last night and it was so beautiful. They should get one in Toronto. We should definitely take you."
"Oh it's okay. Fancy restaurants aren't really my thing." And Sams not lying. He doesn't have the money for them, but also hates the people. They're pretentious, posh, and generally annoying with how wealthy they are. Now his mother is one of them.
He wouldn't mind going to a place like that with his mom, or even alone once every now and then, but not with Kenneth. His step father and him have a.. complicated relationship.
Barbra sighs. She knows that her son and fiancé don't get along. She wishes they did. Then maybe Sam would've come with them to the city instead of staying in rustic old Bailey Downs. Maybe then her son would have a future outside of that forgotten town, and maybe, he'd even move on from Jaime.
As long as he stays in Downs it's going to haunt him, Barbra thinks. She wonders why he chooses to stay, why he chooses to be stuck in it. All she knows is that she misses her son, and the longer he stays the more she looses him.
"Well alright." Barbra says. "We should get you out soon. It's probably so lonely over there."
Sam shrugs. "I do fine for myself."
"Does that mean you've found a girlfriend! Sammy why didn't you tell me?"
Sam laughs. "No mom. No I haven't."
"Yes you have! I can tell when your lying, your my son."
Sam wants to say am I?. He feels like he raised himself rather his parents. They were to concerned with each other and his perfect little brother Lucas to pay any attention to him.
The last few years of Highschool were hard for Sam. He was either grounded, kicked out, or living at the greenhouse all throughout junior and senior year. He felt so alone; Like nobody cared. But he always had Jaime.
When he couldn't go home, he went to Jaimes. When he couldn't sleep he went to Jaimes. And when he hated his parents, he had Jaimes.
They went through everything together, and that was part of the problem. If it wasn't that way maybe Jaime would still be alive.
Barbra coughs over the phone. "Well you don't have to tell me now but you will eventually. You should bring her out when you come."
Sam agrees but he doesn't mean it. He doesn't have a girlfriend anyways. He likes someone, maybe loves her, but it's never going to happen so he doesn't mention it. Anyways, He has no intention to go to New York with or without a girlfriend. Even though he hates Bailey Downs, it's still his home. New York will never be. He hates the city.
"Alright. Well, talk to you later mum." He sighs.
"Talk to you later Sam."
Sam hangs up and grabs his keys. It's time for that party and time to get payed.
He throws his brown leather jacket overtop his plaid button down and stuffs all the pockets with joints. He breathes in and smells the sharpness of the weed. He prays no cops get called. If they do, he's fucked.
His vans looking real pathetic today so he gets in his dads old truck instead. This means he won't get recognized by any passers by who recognize his father's company. It was much more well known in his dads day, Sams not the best at running a business.