Ben pushs me into Sam, and I stumble blindy, lost in a haze. Then he gently shoves us both into the house, and from the outside, I vaguely hear the door lock.
"Well. That went awesome," Sam mutters. He winks, but the sparkle in his blue eyes is not there. He reaches out, exploring the air with his fingers for my hand. I gratefully accept the warm comforting grasp of him, and smile up into his eyes. "Why are you here Lana?"
At the change in his tone, I blink a little, shocked. "You...," I murmur. I'm confused. What does he mean? Does he not want me here? "Sam. Do you not want me here?" I chose to voice my thoughts.
A quick shake of his head answers me in a millisecond. His light hair flips around on his head, and a peice flops over his left eye. "No Lane. I need you here. Just wondering. Pffftttt..." Sam goes cross eyed, and tries to blow the hair of his eyes.
Blushing, and giggling a little, I reach up my free hand, and wipe it free. "You're an idiot...," I giggle, before blushing more liberally, and smiling all over my insides. He needs me. "I just... can't stand not being here. So I came. To yell at your mother. She's an ass hole." I don't bother to water down my description of his mother. Because... no one likes her. No one.
A small laugh comes from Sam, bursting out of his shell, and making his whole face light up - even those star fire eyes. "Careful. She mgiht hear you," he whispers, leaning down and putting his mouth near my ear. "She'd really kill you then," he adds, sounding dead serious.
I shiver, and nod. Then I grab Sam's hand, and drag him up to his room, collapsing on the bed. "So," I start. "What's happening? Can we... try to be -" I'm cut off by a spurt of yelling so loud and harsh coming from either Mrs. Czopek, or Ben - can't tell when they are like that - that I literally shake from terror, and stare into Sam's eyes, hoping for comfort.
Sam sits in silence. From his expression, I can tell that it was his mother, and what she said wans't good. He sits there, his ear facing the door, and listening intently.
"Hey, what are they saying? Are we doomed?" My legs quake uncontrollably at the thought, and I shut my eyes. The next moment, I feel Sam's soft touch in two places - one arm across my legs to stop them from shaking, and another finger across my lips to silence me.
I obey. He's always known best, honestly. I turst Sam. So until all noise dies down, I sit, unable to make out more than snippets of :
"...FRIENDS...","...NO...", "...LANA...", "...SAM...", "...SON...", and more nice little phrases. My legs are still quaking despite the warmth of Sam's hand that always calms me down.
