Falling For Sam

Chapter 3

     Everything was a blurry reality of mixed emotions, hugs, and squeals after I stepped out of my plane into the LAX.  Everyone was reuniting with their family and friends, and some people getting ready to abandon them for whatever reason they were getting on their flights.  As all the people were having their “special moments of goodbyes,” I tried to push through the large suffocating crowd of people as soon as I could to be with my own friend (I consider her family in my eyes).  All I wanted to do was be with Spencer as soon as possible.  After all, she gives the best hugs when someone really needs the comforting.  The best tear-catching shoulder award would have to be presented to Miss Spencer Hemingway.  And let me say, she is the best friend and I certainly needed the comforting at this moment.

     After nearly being trampled by what I am starting to doubt of being humans, I rushed straight into a long-waited hug.

"I missed you so much Camryn.  Never stay away from me for an entire year ever again." Spencer said so happily, yet so sad at the same time.

"Says the one who moved to L.A." I replied as a banter.

We both giggled a little, knowing it was somewhat true.

     Spencer, Mrs. Hemingway and I strolled our way through the ginormous confinement of chaos (which is apparently, wrongly named in my opinion, an airport) to make it to the baggage claim, where I would pick up my other 2 suitcases filled with some extra things I would need for my prolonged stay during the television shooting.  I eventually would be moving in with my mother in a small home nearby Spencer's, but we have to wait a little while until my mother can figure out how such a large change would work out. Especially since my parents are divorced. Yup, you heard me. D-I-V-O-R-C-E-D. A somewhat "dysfunctional" and "broken" family since I was 4.  I guess I'm not extremely bothered by it since 10+ years of my life has been like this, but it isn't the greatest either.

     We all sifted through the large amounts of bags to find my one commonly colored suitcase (stupid me picked a general black one).  I accidentally thought three other suitcase were mine during the little search, but after I had looked at each of their tags I realized they most definitely weren't.  Eventually, the expert bag finder, Mrs. Hemingway, spotted another black suitcase on the rotary and verified that it was mine after peeking at it's tag.  Luckily, my second checked bag was bright pink.  Not only was it just bright pink, it was neon pink.  A blind person probably could've spotted it from a mile away (no offense to the blind).

                                                                               • • •

     As soon as we parked in Spencer's driveway, I walked out of the car and plopped face-up onto her front lawn.  Staring up at the blue, partly cloudy sky on a soft, perfectly green lawn in L.A. couldn't have been beaten by anything else at that moment.  Everything started to finally sink into my brain, causing me to shut out everything else around me while I thought for a bit.  That was only until Spencer joined me.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you seem relaxed, yet like you want to get up and change the world.  Calm, yet anxious I suppose you could say."

"Where in the hell did you get that from?" I said, slightly giggling.

"I know your faces, Camryn.  We've been best friends ever since we were born.  I know almost everything there is to know about you."

"Don't go all Dr. Phil chick-flick on me."

     Spencer started laughing, and I couldn't help but to laugh too.  I have a strong feeling laughs are contagious through the entire human population.  I mean, even if someone you don't know starts laughing about a reason you don't know of either, don't you typically laugh?  I think we were always created that way so if the world has a large mass of sadness, just one person could possibly cheer up 1/4 of them.  Then there would be a never ending chain of happiness.

"What are you guys doing?" said Mrs. Hemingway, slightly startling me.

"Just talking a bit and thinking.  Usual girl stuff mom."

"Well, you guys can finish your little girl talk after you get Camryn's things inside and unpacked."

     Spencer's mother shut the front door, going back inside to start cooking. Earlier during the car ride she said the meal would be "the best dinner ever." Unless it would magically become my usual Seafood Alfredo, salad, and breadsticks order from Olive Garden, it probably wouldn't fulfill my expectations of "the best dinner ever." My sincere apologies to you indirectly Mrs. Hemingway.  Indirectly because I would never think of it to be kind to say such a thing to her.

     I propped myself to sit up, and then used all of my very little energy that was left to stand up.  Jet lag was most definitely, already getting the best of me (sadly).

     Spencer followed and decided to stand up.  She turned towards her front door and started walking, as I was looking around at the scenery.

"Are you coming with?" she asked, stopping halfway to the door and turning back to face me.

"Yeah, I was going to go in anyways."

     She continued her way to the door, and I followed.  Unsurprisingly, the first step in her home smelled like a combination of flowers, food, and cleaning products.  We all know the routine of "cleaning the house right before guests come over, so the house seems overly spectacular when they actually couldn't give a single crap in the world."

     Even though it was a "small" house, it felt pretty large in my opinion.  It had two stories, a decent sized living room, a full kitchen, and office, and a master bedroom on the main floor.  That's just the main floor, I mean, come on, small?  Doesn't seem small to me, but maybe it is on the "California standards."

"Wow, it's so gorgeous in here!" I said in awe.

"Thanks! I love it too! My mom designed it all herself."

"No duh." I said jokingly. "She's only an interior designer."

"Well, you never know if she wanted a break from her job. It's nice to take a break and to sit back and watch someone else to do the work."

"Your mom? Her risking to watch someone else put clashing colors together in her living room?"

"You're right." she admitted slightly laughing. "She's too anal to let anyone else do her job in her own home."

     We stood in the foyer for a couple of minutes looking at the walls covered in family photos, pointing and cooing at all of the pictures.  There were baby pictures of her and her brother to pictures of the whole family doing the typical "perfect and happy to be together" poses.  I think there were only two pictures that were goofy, but they weren't surprising because Spencer was a toddler in the photos and James was practically a newborn.  What else do you expect kids to do besides mess up photo shoots?

"Anyways, would you mind showing me where I'm staying before I grab my things?"

"Absolutely! Follow me your majesty!" she said in a banter.  She crossed her right leg behind the other, pointing her arms toward the staircase while bowing to a curtsy.