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pizza-is-my-buziness · 1 year

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Prompt: Sam's thoughts/pov from when she notices Deena is at the vigil up until where the movie picks up their confrontation.

Anyways I just love Sam Fraser so much.

“I have no idea why we’re going to all this effort. It’s just Shadyside.”

For the record, Irene is as beautiful as she is mean and the effort she’s currently going to -leaning into her reflection in the locker room mirror and applying eyeliner so sharp it could easily kill- is entirely unnecessary. Like most of the girls on the squad, she could step onto the sidelines bare-faced and the only thing people would notice anyway were bare legs and short skirts.

“Sam,” Irene continues, and Sam keeps her focus on lacing up her tennis shoes. “You’re from Shadyside, right?”

The innocent lilt to her question, as well as the faint giggling from the two girls occupying the mirrors on either side of Irene, make it clear that everyone already knows the answer to this question. As if anyone might have possibly forgotten, even for a second, that Sam isn’t originally from Sunnyvale. She doesn’t have the clothes, the pedigree, or the fancy car and having the right address only goes so far. If it weren’t for Peter, Sam is certain she wouldn’t be sitting in this locker room right now getting ready to take the field.

Sometimes, she thinks she would much prefer it that way.

“Um.” Sam blinks like she’s trying to bring the question into focus. “My mom and I moved a few months ago.”

It’s not an answer and the feline smile Irene gives her is enough to assure Sam that her evasion has not gone unnoticed. “How lucky for you,” she coos like Sam is some sort of homeless kitten Irene has deigned to give attention to. Well aren’t you cute? “I could never. I swear even crossing the county line makes me break out in hives.”

A few other girls laugh and one of the girls standing beside Irene launches into some story about Shadyside that couldn’t possibly be true given how fucking stupid it is but no one bothers to point this out and Brianna, the only girl on the team that ever bothers to even look Sam in the eye just gives her a sympathetic smile and offers to help Sam with her hair.

It's the only nice thing that’s happened to her all day, which, unfortunately, isn’t saying much considering that most days aren’t filled with nice things. But this day in particular, having to sit through her classes, watching the clock and knowing that each second was bringing her closer to this moment, to game night, only made everything worse. And rather than getting out and cheering for three hours and never having to think back on this moment again, the Universe has decided to extend her misery by adding an extra layer to it with the vigil for the latest victims in another Shadyside bloodbath.

The ache that Sam feels in her chest all the time has become unbearable today, threatening to turn itself inside out and swallow her whole, a black hole soothed only by the reassurances that Deena wasn’t going to be there tonight, that she had quit band and therefore removed herself from any possible chance that she might ever have to see Sam again. But with the vigil, Sam isn’t sure what might happen. It doesn’t seem like the type of thing that Deena would bother to come to, but Sam has lost the privilege of knowing what sort of things Deena might do.

“I don’t know why it even matters,” one of the girls is saying and Sam tunes into the conversation enough to know that they, too, have turned their attention toward the vigil. “Who gives a shit if a bunch of Shadysiders just got murdered. They’ll all just eventually kill each other anyway.”

More laughter, the sharp and bitter kind that Sam has gotten used to recently, ashamed that she’s slowly become the person that hides behind it rather than risk being on the receiving end. She smiles at the comment because she notices Irene glance in her direction and stays still as Brianna finishes with her ponytail and Sunnyvale red ribbon.

“Did you know any of the people who were killed, Sam?” Brianna asks and if the question had come from anyone else, Sam is certain its intention would’ve been cruel rather than curious and maybe even slightly compassionate. “It really is sad.”

That morning, her mother had all but thrown the paper at her as Sam had stood in the kitchen slowly peeling and orange and she’d listened with half an ear as her mother had pointed at the article as proof that coming to Sunnyvale had been the right thing after all and wasn’t Sam lucky she actually had a mother who cared so much about her future and well-being to bring her here, watching the curling peel grow longer as she worked her fingers.

“Kinda,” Sam says, surprising herself when it would’ve been just as easy to lie. “I used to have geography with-”

“You know what’s sad?” Irene interjects before Sam can say anything more about Heather Watkins, who had been smart and fiendishly funny and who once gave Sam her notes to copy after Sam had been out sick for a few days. “That we have to go out there and pretend like any of this is actually a surprise and then cheer. Like, hello, some of us have lives.” She rolls her eyes and the other girls quickly agree.

Sam nods and mumbles her agreement because being the odd one out has never gotten her anywhere before and it sure is hell isn’t going to start now.

On the way out toward the field to engage in a bit of mandatory mourning, someone grabs her around the waist and pulls Sam away from the rest of the squad and she affixes a smile onto her face before she even turns around fully. “I’m supposed to be getting ready to cheer you know.”

Sam doesn’t recognize the sound of her own voice whenever she’s around Peter, the way it seems to mimic the rest of the Sunnyvale girls she listens to in the hallways or in the lunchroom, high and playful and as thin as the smile Sam knows she’s wearing on her face right now.

Not that Peter seems to notice or mind. “Not yet. First we gotta stand around for this bullshit.” He rolls his eyes, scowling toward the field just out of sight. “All of this is just a waste of time anyway. I don’t even know why Shadyside even bothers to show up.”

Sam can’t stop her gaze from wandering, scanning the gathering crowd of blue. All the faces are familiar but none are the one she hopes so badly to see.

Even as she finds herself desperately scanning the crowd, the idea of seeing Deena feels like the worst possible thing that could happen on top of months of terrible things. It feels like an animal inside of her, shredding at her insides and leaving her hollowed and bleeding and, as always, it strikes Sam as completely ridiculous that she can feel so raw and empty and from the outside just look like the girl she’s always been.

All Sam wants is to see Deena. Just once, even if only for the span of an inhaled breath or beat of her tattered heart.

If she sees Deena again, she might never recover. It might never be possible to put all the pieces of herself back together into anything resembling a convincing Sam shape.

Sam isn’t sure which outcome is worse.

Though it looks like she might not get an opinion on the matter, much like she hasn’t gotten to have an opinion on anything for months, because the Shadyside buses seem to be mostly emptied and there’s no Deena and Sam isn’t sure if she should sigh in relief or crumple to the ground under the weight of the disappointment.

Peter’s arm snakes around her waist and he pulls Sam to him and she goes because she isn’t sure she can stand up on her own and because the same girl that has learned to hide behind and imitate cruel laughter and snide comments has learned that the best camouflage comes in human form.

“Come on,” Peter says, and he presses his face into the side of her neck and Sam laughs and she’s glad that no one from Shadyside is close enough to hear her. “Let’s get this over with.” He kisses her cheek and Sam barely feels it. “I’ll be your shoulder to cry on,” he teases, giving her a squeeze.

When Peter kisses her, all Sam can ever think about is Deena. Deena and the way she had always seemed to smile right before leaning in to kiss her, her gaze equal parts questioning and longing in the seconds before their lips finally met. Deena, who always smelled like sandalwood and vanilla. Deena, who was always soft and perfect beneath Sam’s hands and against her lips and who always seemed to know exactly what she needed. Peter doesn’t know her at all, just this Sunnyvale version of herself that she’s become, the Sam that is crowding out all the other parts of herself until she can’t remember how to breathe.

Still, Sam kisses him, lets Peter hold her close, smiles when he promises that they’ll actually have some fun tonight after the game because they’re going to Seth’s house and his parents are out of town and they just have to get through all this Shadyside crap first and isn’t she glad she’s out of that piece of shit town. And Sam nods and it’s for the best, really, that Deena isn’t here because she can’t stand the idea of what she might look like to Deena now and she might never be able to find herself again if Deena were to look at her and see a stranger.

Peter takes her hand in his and they wind their way through the crowd of gathered students, unsurprisingly divided right down the middle with all the Shadysiders on one side and the Sunnyvale students on the other. Mayor Goode is giving some sort of impassioned speech that Sam pays little attention to because it matters about as much as this vigil and each step she takes makes it a little easier to breathe, to move forward, to face the night ahead. She hadn’t wanted to see Deena anyway, had only let that idea wrap itself around her in a moment of desperate weakness because what would it change anyway? She’s still in Sunnyvale and Deena still hates her.

They stop next to some of Peter’s friends and he grins at them, fist bumping the guys like they hadn’t just walked out of the locker room together five minutes ago and Sam tries to focus on Mayor Goode but it doesn’t take long for her attention to wander and her gaze to return to her former classmates, just more people who would surely hate her guts if they saw her right now in her Sunnyvale cheerleader’s uniform with her Sunnyvale boyfriend.

But then, suddenly, there’s Deena and everything else seems to fall away. The world drops out from under her, leaving Sam marooned in this hazy reality where Deena seems to be the only thing in focus. Somehow, she’s here. In her band uniform and everything, her attention on Mayor Goode like there isn’t anything more important in the world. And Sam can’t take her eyes off her.

Deena has always been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and nothing about that has changed. Except, now, Deena isn’t for her. Isn’t hers. Sam almost presses a hand to her chest to reassure herself that her heart is still beating because she isn’t sure that it is and it hurts, this giant crack spreading its way through her and threatening to splinter her into pieces.

But it’s oh so perfect to see Deena again, after all these months. It seems foolish now to think that she ever could’ve wanted anything else. Sam wants her the way she always has: like breathing, like blinking, like other parts of her done so effortlessly. Like loving Deena is just one more thing her body was designed to do.

It makes Sam want to turn and run as far away from here as possible. Sunnyvale hadn’t been far enough to outrun the truth of this, of herself, but that won’t stop her. There are so many other corners of the earth to run to. Somewhere that she can be and not have to worry about all these things that are so wrong with her that her mother picked up their entire life to get away from it all.

The anger that bubbles up inside of her is a relief compared to all the other things Sam wants so desperately to be feeling right now and a part of her is tempted to march right over there and rip that stupid hat off Deena’s head. What the fuck, she wants to scream, you aren’t supposed to be here!

But the anger is nothing compared to the rest of what Sam feels just beneath the surface, the part of her that wants to go over to Deena, to take Deena’s face in her hands and feel those eyes on her again. Please, she wants to whisper, so only Deena can hear her, don’t leave me alone here again.

Sam pulls in a shuddery breath, grateful that Peter doesn’t seem to notice, and turns away from Deena, curving her body closer to Peter’s in a desperate bid to hide against him. If Deena doesn’t notice her, then none of this is real and she can keep pretending. She can hide away those parts of herself, can pretend that they don’t exist anymore.

That she doesn’t exist anymore.

And she’s used to that feeling nowadays. It’s how she’s made it this far.

#sameena #both mostly just #sam fraser #a bit of a Sam character study #sam/deena #fear street #there's a great John Mayer song that has a line I love that goes #'I'd die if I saw you; die if I didn't see you there' and yes that song was totally my inspiration #I hope I did this prompt justice #I just really love Sam and maybe got carried away?

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