#ft sam

Needles of light prickled through partially opened blinds, waking Sam up long before she wanted to be. She groaned, rolled onto her back, stretched, and realized the other side of the bed was empty. The warmth still lingered so they couldn’t have gotten up much earlier. Driven by a desire for coffee and to find out where the other was, she slid from the bed, stumbling toward the kitchen of her small apartment. Sure enough, they were there, already pouring Sam a mug of steaming brew. “Oh hey.” 

“So I’m pretty sure your parents hated me,” she muttered outside of the others family home. Dinner with their parents had gone awfully because she was just so damn awkward. She kept saying the wrong things, dropped food on herself, and accidentally broke a glass. All she wanted to do was go home and hide from the embarrassment that was meeting their parents for the first time. 

Sam tossed and turned in bed for hours, listening to the neighbor’s party echo down the hall until she finally decided to crash it. Yeah, she could use a drink. If she wasn’t sleeping, might as well do something fun, make fun of some people. The only person she knew was her neighbor who she wasn’t on the best terms with but was too drunk to care about her presence. She helped herself to the keg, squeezing her way through the crowd until she found a couch to crash on.

It had been a long day and Sam needed a drink. She decided to visit the bar she always passed by on her way home. It was a sports bar and far from her type of place but it served beer and that’s all that really mattered. It was several tall ones and a buzz later that she sort of befriended someone and now here they were, out back, smoking a joint between the two of them. She took a long drag from it, exhaling a cloud into the crisp night air, and passed it over to the other. “What’s your name again?”