Legend Incarnate

Chapter 6

    S I X

New York, New York

“Sam, get your arse off the floor and into that bathroom,” Sam turned around and opened one eye groggily. Sinead was staring down at him, her hand on the light switch which was just to the right of where Sam was lying on the carpet.

“Fine,” his voice came out croaky. “What time is it?”

Sam yawned twice as Sinead was answering. “Half three,”

“In the morning?”

“No, in the afternoon, that’s why it’s pitch black outside,” she narrowed her eyes, probably in a reaction to his just-woken-up stupidity, and ushered Sam into the bathroom.

He groaned, and pulled clothes out of his backpack. “What time did you get up?”

“Three, I washed my hair,” at this, Sam was reminded about the state of his. Normally, he didn’t care about his hair, to an extent, but after one touch, he knew he needed to wash it.

“I’ll have a quick shower, then,” he muttered, running into the bathroom before Sinead could protest. In his dazed state he almost tripped over the doorframe, however he managed to save himself a head-in-toilet situation with a little magic. That’s what it was there for, right?

Sam’s head cleared while he was in the process of dropping his clothes on the bathroom floor and working out how to turn the shower on. When he was fully awake, he turned the shower on and waited for around twenty seconds, as he always did. It was something he just couldn’t avoid doing; he’d made sure the temperature of the shower was consistent before he got in since before he could remember.

He stepped into the shower stall and was pleasantly surprised when he discovered his head didn’t reach the ceiling. Usually, he had to duck slightly, but not today. The water was warm and welcoming, hitting his back with comfortable force. He basked in the water for a while, until he turned to the side to retrieve the shampoo from the side of the shower. Sinead hadn’t put the top on properly, and it was leaking slightly. A laugh escaped his lips. He shampooed, afterwards, standing in the stall for at least five minutes. When he decided he’d probably annoyed Sinead enough, he hit the shower’s on/off switch and wrapped a rough towel around his waist. He looked around the room for the first time, as when he walked in earlier, he’d been half unconscious and not noticed any details of the tiny bathroom. It was pretty average; the toilet facing the door, not much room to manoeuvre between the door and the toilet at all. Right now, just after coming out of the shower on the far wall of the room, he was staring into the wall-wide mirror. There was a sink underneath the mirror, and Sam used the complimentary toothbrushes while he was air-drying.

His dark blonde hair wasn’t dry by the time he’d finished brushing his teeth, which didn’t surprise him. It was common knowledge that most boys’ hair took around five minutes to dry, but Sam’s hair wasn’t like most boys’. It was thick, curly and blonde, albeit dark, and he usually got called ‘girl’ because it wasn’t cropped and brunette.

He spat the toothpaste into the sink, swirling a mouthful of water around his mouth afterwards. He turned the tap on forcefully, which removed the toothpaste and toothpaste-y water from the bowl.

Usually, if he was at home, Sam would go into his room and sit in his towel for half an hour or so before he got dressed. Today, however, he was in the company of a very pretty older girl and couldn’t even fathom the possibility of him doing that for three seconds. He dried himself with the crunchy towel—not wanting to ask himself the last time it was washed—and dressed in jeans, a t-shirt which boasted the logo of an alternative rock band, and his favourite socks. They were dark blue and patterned with deerstalker hats, which reminded him of his favourite books when he was little. He’d read the original Sherlock Holmes stories all before the age of thirteen, something he was unbelievably proud of.