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Stephanie Jean Hughes knew a ton about secrets.

She kept Gina Flores's secret when Gina broke her moms vase after an insane smoke session between their friend group. She kept Josephine Foster's secret when Jo stole some money out of her dad's cash register to buy weed from Eddie Munson. She kept Warren Aquino's secret when Warren ran into his neighbor's parked car in his first few months of driving.

Stephanie was good at keeping secrets, because she was a walking secret herself. She was a lesbian in a 1986 Hawkins, Indiana. She was in love with Robin Buckley and had been since the seventh grade when they were all required to take music class and she accidentally stabbed Robin in the hand with a violin bow. She stole the artificial hair dye she used to dye her hair pink every two months. She thought Nancy Wheeler was hot once when freshman were taking too long to walk in the hall and Nancy snapped for them to get a move on.

See — there were many secrets Stephanie harbored. For the most part, they were fairly innocent, but only a few knew. That small group included her friend group, her cousin Corey, and her little sister Sam.

Stephanie knew Sam was hiding a lot from her.

She was pretty sure that Corey was, too.

Stephanie knew secrets, so she knew Sam had enough of her own to write an entire novel. It all started when Will got lost in the woods, and ever since then, she was more closed off than she'd been when their parents died.

Or, she closed off to Stephanie, at least.

Sam was good at hiding the fact she even had secrets, though. She used to act totally normal around Stephanie, like there was nothing for Stephanie to be out the loop of. But Stephanie knew her little sister better than anyone on this planet, so she noted the change of octaves in her voice or the little crease in her eyebrows. She heard her sister screaming at night yelling things that made absolutely no sense unless you were people like Corey who knew all of Sam's secrets. The next morning, the duo would come out of their respective rooms like nothing happened as if they'd trained themselves to recover from things like that. Sam would put on her radiant smile and make horrible jokes that even had Aunt Kat groaning.

Until Sam stopped forcing that radiant smile on. That's when Stephanie really knew Sam had more secrets than she could handle.

Stephanie had a feeling she knew what one of them was, now, though:

High school changed Stephanie for the better, but it was changing Sam for the worse.

It was honestly all Stephanie could think about right now as she walked down the hallways towards the cafeteria for lunch — she wasn't thinking about Robin or about the fact Jo and Gina were traitors who left school early due to a horrible case of senioritis. She was thinking about that look on Sam's face during the pep rally or that forced cheeriness in her voice during morning announcements on the PA. She thought about—

"Stephanie Hughes?"

Stephanie paused, a little in fear, and turned around. The voice who stopped her was a dark-skinned older woman with gentle eyes and an adorable fashion sense. Stephanie wondered if she was supposed to know her, so began wracking her brain for a memory.

"Hi, ma'am," greeted Stephanie while she thought. "That's me."

The teacher smiled. "Yes, I'm Mrs. Rowley. Your sister's in my AP Chemistry class."

"Oh," Stephanie's eyes widened in surprise. This was weird. She hadn't had to talk to one of Sam's teachers since Sam was in middle school and their aunt and uncle kept flaking out of Sam's teacher conferences so Stephanie had to go as her guardian. "Um — is Sam doing all right?"

Mrs. Rowley seemed exasperated. "She's doing excellent, sweetie. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Sam's sort of been... avoiding me, in a sense?"

"Oh," Stephanie repeated, like an idiot. Her shoulders dropped a smidge. "Yeah, well.... she's been doing that a lot lately, Mrs. Rowley."

Mrs. Rowley frowned, and Stephanie hated the fact Sam's teachers were noting her recent behavior change, too.

"I don't know if you heard," Mrs. Rowley explained, "but the thing is: I told her I spoke to Principal Higgins and we agreed she should move up a grade next school year if she wanted to."

Stephanie had very much not heard.

"Are you serious?" asked Stephanie, not being able to stop her mouth from dropping.

Mrs. Rowley cleared her throat, and the look in her eyes told Stephanie that Sam had a similar reaction. She responded, "Yes, actually. She excels academically. I feel that if she went into junior year, and if she tested up to take senior-level science and math, she could go very far," Mrs. Rowley informed, and holy shit Sam was fifteen-years-old and already more successful than Stephanie could ever be. "I know it sounds like a lot, but I wouldn't be asking this if I didn't have full faith in her. Your sister, Stephanie... I really think she could take the classes with ease."

"Well, I," Stephanie huffed lightly, "don't doubt that."

"I just wanted to make sure that she was... okay," she said, like she was trying to word her thoughts properly. "That the offer hasn't been the reason of her sudden mood change."

Stephanie swallowed, nodding.

"...She's okay," Stephanie said, and she made an internal note to get better at lying. "Yeah. She... has just had a lot go on the past few years. Change isn't something she's much a fan of, but I can definitely talk some sense to her. This sounds like something that will be good for her, so I'm sure she'll come around."

Mrs. Rowley smiled, making Stephanie wish she had this amazing woman for her Chemistry class instead of Mr. Kaminski. The only good thing to come out of regular-level Chemistry was the fact she sat by Robin and could ask her for a pencil every day.

"That'd be amazing, Stephanie, thank you. Your sister is one of the brightest kids that's ever sat in my class," Mrs. Rowley confessed. "She's got this potential inside of her... You know, I think she could do great things in this world if she wanted to. If she would just get out of her own way."

Trying to process the inspiring words, Stephanie said, "No, thank you, miss. I'm glad you told me what was going on."

"I didn't mean to play messenger, I just really want Sam to consider the idea," Mrs. Rowley nodded. "All right, well, I'll let you get to lunch. Have a good break, okay?"

Stephanie grinned kindly as she began walking away backwards. "You, too!"

Then she turned on her heel and started back towards the cafeteria. She'd been so distracted by thoughts of her little sister that she totally forget another issue she should've been trying to solve.

Jo and Gina left school early.

Warren was the only one (besides Stephanie) who was still here.

And he was currently sitting with his band friends.

Which included Robin Buckley.

"Nope," Stephanie muttered, turning back around her heel and trying to leave the cafeteria.

Behind her back, she heard a crashing noise and a small, "Steph, wait!" She knew it was Warren, so she continued trying to walk.

He clamped a hand around her back and turned Stephanie around.

"You can do this!" Warren tried encouraging her.

Stephanie shook her head stubbornly. "Nope. No. I can't. I really can't."

"Come on, Steph, I sat at that table today for you!"

"Do you want me to be a social laughing stock to the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on?"

Warren sent her an unamused look. "Do I have to remind you that you two have been dancing around each other since, like, the seventh grade? If I have to witness you sending her goo-goo eyes at one more band practice that you unnecessarily snuck into, I will lose my shit."

Stephanie honest to god whined like a kid. She was such a fucking gay disaster that it scared herself sometimes. Her eyes darted towards the table that the band kids sat at, only to find Robin's beautiful blue ones staring over at them.

"Oh, my god," Stephanie panicked. "She's looking at me. What do I do?"

Warren groaned like he was contemplating throttling her. "Go over there!"

"I can't go there alone!"

"I know!" snapped Warren, on his very last straw. "That is why I will be going there with you! God!"

Stephanie clawed at her scalp with her fingers in fear. She breathed in, then breathed out, then nodded to herself in preparation.

"All right," she decided. "I got this."

"Yes, you do. That's my girl," Warren clapped her on the back, trying to guide her towards the table.

Stephanie dropped her hands to her side. "Let's go!"

"Let's go!" he repeated.

But as Stephanie grew closer to the table, her anxiety grew. You would think, in the five years she had a crush on Robin, that she would get better at handling her emotions — you would be wrong! It didn't matter how many more conversations Stephanie had with her, or how much older they got, or how terrifyingly close they grew to that last day of school where they'd be going their separate ways for college only to never see each other again. It didn't matter, because Stephanie would be just as hopeless every single time.

Stephanie sent all the band kids polite greetings as she sat down (she shot Warren a glare, though, because he somehow managed to save her a seat alone next to Robin). They all knew her, because of how many band practices that she had totally (not) inconspicuously attended. She'd gotten to a point where she didn't even feel out of place; she was essentially an honorary band kid.

They were all talking, and Robin was right there, and her floral scent was much too overwhelming. Stephanie's eyes began darting all around, trying to externally hide her inner panic.

Then she caught sight of Sam.

Sam, who was holding a lunch try, standing at the outskirts of the cafeteria. Sam, who was looking for a spot to sit. Sam, whose eyes darted to Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler with the Hellfire kids. Sam, whose eyes moved onto Lucas Sinclair with the basketball team.

Sam, who had nowhere to sit, so she threw her entire lunch in the trash and walked out of the cafeteria.

"U-Uh — Are you okay?"

Stephanie snapped out of it, realizing she'd been physically restraining the urge to bolt out of her chair and run after Sam. Robin was speaking to her — Robin Buckley — and the blue eyes were more mesmerizing up close.

Stephanie scooted her chair in, trying to act cool. "Yeah, sorry, just thought I saw my sister for a sec. You're, uh... I mean — Are you okay, too?"

Robin's blue eyes lit up.

"Yeah, I'm totally good," she said, and then she was rambling. "I mean, the pep rally was a drag but it's the last day until spring break, so I guess that makes up for it, and you're sitting here which is nice — I mean! I-I mean it's nice that you feel comfortable around us band kids, 'cause I know most people say we're all ga— Most people say we're garish, so I don't want you to—"

"Robin?" Stephanie said. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Robin breathed in through her nostrils. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," she admitted.

And from a little way's down the table, you could hear the sound of Warren facepalming as hard as he could.

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Sam had her head in her locker as she tried not to burst out into tears in the middle of the school day. She hadn't cried in so long and she was not about to cry now — there wasn't really a reason to honestly. Sure, yes, she was having a bad day (a really bad day, some might say), but she's had bad days before and this should be no different.

So why did it feel like the world was ending when she was fifteen?

The fluorescent light right above Sam started flickering, and Sam muttered a curse to herself as she forced her body to stop causing the intermittent electricity. Sam looked around to see if anyone noticed, and—

And there was Max, walking down the hall with headphones in her ears.

Sam's world really did end, right there, when she made eye contact with Max. She shouldn't have been surprised when Max just looked away and walked from Sam as fast as she could. She shouldn't have let her entire body deflate with dread, because none of this was new. Max had been this way, and Sam had to just live with that.

What happened to Max back at Starcourt — what happened to Billy — that kind of thing stuck. Max lost her brother, and while he was a total jerk, a part of Max cared for him. She lost her brother, then she lost her stepdad and a lot of money. She and her mom had to move into the trailer park just off of Roane County.

But Max didn't tell Sam any of that. Sam just knew that because that was the kind of observant person she was.

After all of that happening to a person, Sam felt Max's change was fair. She did. But it was really hard, because Sam loved Max a lot and she valued their friendship more than anything. Sam was prepared to be there for Max through it all, having never expected that Max wouldn't want that from Sam.

Now they were just two girls who made eye contact in the hall.

She was too devastated, too distracted to see an approaching Mike.

"Sam, hey!"

Sam tensed up, slamming her locker shut. She groaned, "Go away, Mike."

And as she tried to escape him, Mike only sped up to try and catch up with her. "Sam, wait."

"I can not handle another shitty conversation today with you," Sam said, because she couldn't, and she was still ahead of Mike while he trailed behind.

"Look, you were right about what you were saying this morning—"

Sam brightened up a little, slowing her pace. "Was I?"

"—but because of Lucas, we need a fill-in for Hellfire tonight."

"You've got to be kidding me," Sam grumbled as she sped up, trying her best to get away from Mike.

"Sam, would you just — Can you hear me out — How are you so fast, shit—"

They turned a desolate, dim corner and Mike was still trailing after Sam. He seemed to finally understand he couldn't talk about Hellfire right now.

"God," he groaned, "it's... it's like you're not even you anymore. It's like you're a corpse or something."

Sam finally stopped walking. She tried to swallow the raw pain and stabilize the shaking of her body.

"A corpse?" Sam asked, turning around. "Really?"

Mike winced at his words, but he didn't take them back. He said, "Sam, I know something's wrong."

Sam scoffed, "Yeah, something really must be wrong, because you guys have talked to me today. For once."

And his expression crumbled, and Sam willed everything in her to not copy his actions. They were always that close — those type of best friends that learned habits from each other. Mike now curled his fists because of her, and Sam now furrowed her eyebrows because of him. They weren't really alike, not at all, but right now they felt more different than ever.

"Sam, please," Mike begged weakly.

"Please what?"

"Please just — just," he let out a throaty noise of frustration, "just fill in for the Hellfire campaign tonight. You can have fun! We can all have fun together, like we used to."

Sam pinned him with a look, and she was shorter, but it made Mike feel so small.

"And where was this energy last summer when Will asked you the same exact thing?" Sam asked. "Because I wasn't the one who decided to join a new Party without Will or me agreeing to it. Why did you think I would ever say yes to this?"

"Sam, I—"

"No. Look," Sam cut him off, trying to talk a deep, calming breath before that enticing anger took her over. "I get that people change. I get that I didn't understand that at first and I failed to keep us all together, but I get it now. People just change, and it's just that simple, and apparently I can't do anything about it, so have fun at your campaign and—" Sam swallowed the lump in her throat shakily, "and have fun in California."

Then she turned for the bathroom door a couple feet away before Mike could protest, but her closing statement reminded her.

Sam walked back over to Mike pulling out a wrapped box from her bag. She handed it for Mike to take.

Mike examined it in his hands, face etched in confusion.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Will's birthday present," Sam answered. "Since I can't go to California."

She took a step back.

"Give that to him for me."

Then she started for the bathroom again, and this time she didn't stop. Sam threw open the old, wooden door and if Mike would've tried to stop her again, she wouldn't have turned around.

Sam was going to have wished she had, though.

She should've it seen it coming, honestly. Sam had been ignoring the red flags and closing her ears when anyone warned her it was coming. She had something psychic about her, she was pretty sure, and yet she hadn't seen it coming. Sam was an Empath, for fuck's sake, and was delusional to think this wasn't going to happen.

Because Justin Zimmerman and Carrie Cunningham were making out in the bathroom, swallowing each other, and his hands were all over her ass.

The facade of her anger had disappeared, slipping between her fingers as water would. No matter how badly Sam wanted to stay angry, stay rageful, stay rash, stay careless, she couldn't. The sight before her brought down everything Sam had worked to build. It stripped her bare and revealed Sam's true colors. Her miserable, sensitive colors.

Sam felt thirteen all over again.

"Holy shit," she choked, and Justin was snapping away from Carrie with a line of spit shared between them.

"H-Hughes!" Justin startled.

Had he ever called her Sam? Had he ever called her by her first name? Had he ever seen Sam for what she actually was and not what he wanted her to be? There were too many things happening right now and Sam's mind was running to fast to find the answer for everything. She was supposed to have the answers, she was supposed to, she was supposed to, she was supposed to. And she felt like a failure, and she felt like she was letting her childhood self down, and she was feeling so many things right now — some of them the lust that resided between Justin and Carrie — and Sam wanted to go home, but there wasn't one anymore, and she couldn't handle all of this inside of her.

Carrie giggled. "Oops," she whispered.

"Fuck this," Sam's shaky voice tried to snap before she slammed on the bathroom door and stormed right out.

"H-Hughes, wait!" cried Justin, and he was shoving Carrie off of him, and he was running after her.

No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to notice that Sam Hughes was one who chased others to make sure everyone else was fine. No one seemed to realize how things would fall apart when Sam stood still and let things fall. The first law of motion stated that an object would not change its motion unless a force acted on it. Sam always saw herself as that force, and without her push, nothing got better. It all got worse. She was a phoenix who rose from the ashes only having to mend all her wounds herself.

But Justin just dealt the final blow.

"I should've known," Sam's voice cracked. "I should've known."

"Hughes, it wasn't like that!"

Sam thought she was speeding to get away from Mike, but she was reaching a new, record-worthy pace now. Mike had chased her and Justin was chasing her and Sam was so tired of chasing everyone, so now it was her turn to run. It was everyone else's turn to see how it felt. Usually, Sam would care more about their feelings, but...

But she didn't right now.

"You want a stupid bitch who can't cheer? Done."

"Hughes!"

"WHAT?" cried Sam, rounding on Justin and stopping them in the middle of the hall. "I want you to say one thing that would fix this right now!"

Sam thought they were real. She did. And everyone called her the smart one, but it turned out she was stupid all along, because how the fuck didn't she know?

Did he walk Carrie to the drive-in movies because they couldn't legally drive yet, too? Had Carrie seen that signed football by the 49ers Quarterback that "he didn't show anyone," too? When they kissed, did he put her hand in the back of her jeans pocket because Carrie loved Sixteen Candles just like Sam?

And Sam had her doubts in their relationship. She always had. She had told Max Mayfeild once before that there was something weird about him Sam couldn't figure out. But she gave Justin her best self and she gave him her endless empathy and she bled for him, trying to fight for him. For them. Even when she wasn't sure. Even within her doubts.

Throughout the duration of them dating — ten months — Sam had these urges. She wondered, if she jumped off a building, would he even come running? Would he finally tell her those three words that would've been said already in any normal relationship?

Samantha Hughes, for the first time in her life, felt stupid.

She felt like she knew nothing.

She felt like her heart couldn't start for him anymore.

She felt like she'd wasted ten months of her life.

She felt like everything was all her fault.

She felt done.

And she felt like the world was ending at age fifteen.

"Hughes, don't be like this," he pleaded. "I don't want to lose you."

The silence that encompassed them made Sam feel a little light-headed with the weight of it.

"You already have, Justin."

She hadn't called him Justin in three years.

It didn't seem a lot, but 'Jay' was a nickname reserved for friends and loved ones and Sam was letting him know that she was neither. It really had her thinking if they were ever really real at all? Because 'Sam' was her nickname reserved for friends and loved ones and he never called her that at all.

Justin just kept staring, that stupid desperate too-full-of-something look on his face, lips parted as his brain worked frantically to find a way to mend the situation — with no success.

"I don't believe that's true."

"Well, it is. Life works like that sometimes, you don't always get to be selfish."

"I'm not trying to be selfish, I just... I don't want to let you go."

"What makes you think that you have a choice in the matter?" Sam looked at him fully now, arms crossed over her chest. "What actually makes you think you get to have a say in this?"

"Hughes, I need you," Justin snapped, combing a hand through his hair to try and calm himself down. "I need you, okay?"

"Then you should have done a better job of keeping me when you still had the chance."

She turned to leave with that, and though Justin made no move to stop her, the quiet breath he let out was enough to make her pause.

Do something. Say something. Lose something. Risk something.

"Sam, please."

Sam.

"I don't owe you anything."

"Of course you don't—"

"Then why should I stay?"

"Because I'm trying to — I want to... because—"

"See, you don't even know what you want, Justin," Sam scoffed, "and I'm not gonna sit by idly while you figure it out, so get it all out now or just shut up. What do you want?"

"I — I don't know what I want." Justin groaned, still glancing around as if he could not quite bring himself to meet her eyes. "You have to understand that you're both—"

Then the AV room door opened, which Sam and Justin coincidentally happened to be arguing beside. Their heads whipped to see Auggie looking at the pair awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, "I hate to... break up this lovely conversation—"

"August," Sam growled.

"—but, Sam, I need you in here. Preferably today... so..." Auggie stood there, outside the room, but Sam was glaring daggers at him, so he jolted in place. "You know what, I'll just — okay."

Then he closed the door going back into the AV room.

But not before trying to give Justin a discreet glare.

Sam knew what he was doing.

"This... This," Sam motioned in between herself and Justin, "isn't me. I'm not an idiot, and I'm done being one for you."

"You're — You're done? Wait. Wait, what is that supposed to mean?"

"Holy shit, Justin, I know you're fucking stupid, but you can piece together what it means!"

Justin begged, "No — No, Hughes, I don't understand. I don't understand why you're this upset."

Sam huffed an incredulous, humorless laugh.

"I know you don't."

"Please don't do this," he said, like he wasn't just eating Carrie's face a minute ago. "You can't do this."

"It's not up to you, Justin!" Sam snapped, and the fluorescent lights were flickering around them. "Other people have feelings, too, you know? You don't get to dictate what everyone can and can't do just because you feel a certain way—"

"It was one mistake!"

"One fucking big one!" she screeched. "On top of a million more!" Sam glared, "We're done, and that is fucking final, and you're a piece of bullshit, and I wish I never wasted my time on you."

"You don't mean that," Justin strained out.

How could he say that? How could he, when he couldn't even tell how miserable Sam had been lately? Why couldn't he admit that Sam wasn't okay? That this wasn't okay?

Sam stared at him. She blinked once.

"I do, Justin Zimmerman," she nodded, grabbing the doorknob of the AV room. "I really, really do."

Sam headed into the room and slammed the door in his face.

And, oddly enough, all Sam could really think was Max would be so proud of me right now.

The air in the AV room was thick with loss and indecision the second Sam stepped into it. She surveyed the room of clutter and wasted technology that neither Sam or Auggie had the heart to part with. All of a sudden, Sam wanted to smash it all with her bare hands because it made her think of Justin. It made her think of her stupidity. It made her think of a string she'd finally cut after such a long time coming.

And Justin could've easily followed her in here, or chased after her if he was so desperate to fix the broken china that was their relationship.

But he didn't.

And Sam knew he wouldn't.

At one of the desk chairs, Auggie was sitting there, staring up at Sam like he had something to say.

"You know, honestly, I think that went really well—"

"I hate you," she deadpanned.

Sam sat down in her own desk chair before her mind compelled her to take out an unfinished drawing from her bag. She worked on it with anger with the art supplies already scattered around.

Now Sam couldn't see it, but Auggie was dramatically offended. He put a hand to his heart unironically.

"What did I do?!"

"You know what you did."

He claimed, "I didn't do anything!"

Sam finished her drawing before she swiveled around in her chair to glare at him.

"Oh, okay, so what am I needed in here for, then?"

Auggie paused, officially caught. He stammered, "To... discuss plans for the game tonight."

"I hope the soundboard short circuits and electrocutes you," Sam said way too quickly. "There. Discussed."

Auggie sighed, dropping his clueless demeanor and getting serious.

"Okay, look, you clearly needed saving from that kid!" he defended himself. Then, "And — must I say — I applaud you for how you handled the situation, really. I've been waiting for you to dump his ass for ages."

Sam winced at the term 'dump his ass.'

"Shut up," she grumbled. "You're, like, thirty. It's weird to meddle in a little girl's love life."

"Don't—" Auggie looked utterly repulsed "— make it sound like that. And I'm eighteen, anyways! What happened to the nice, sunshine freshman I met on the first day of school? I miss her. Did I mention that she was nice?"

"She caught your virus and lost her friends," Sam accused.

Auggie gasped. "Low blow, you freak!"

So, yeah. August (Auggie) Santos was a loser and his only friend was Sam. But Sam's only real friend right now was Auggie and she was a loser, too. She needed him, but they did not have the type of friendship where Sam could admit that.

Sam covered her amused smile.

"Takes one to know one," she retorted childishly. Then, "Doesn't it?"

It was a cover of vulnerability. It was an unspoken question. It was Sam genuinely wanting to know if she had Auggie as a friend.

"Of course, Hughes," Auggie deflated out of fondness for the Sam he adopted. "Freaks stick together, don't we?"

Sam turned back around towards her desk to hide that she was pleased. She took in a deep breath, trying to settle her swarming emotions.

"Whatever you say," she put on a mask of annoyance. Sam began packing up her things, or the few things that she'd even had the time to pull out, that is. "I have to go."

Auggie tilted his head in confusion. "Whu — you just got here! Sixth period doesn't start for another thirty minutes!"

Sam closed over the flap of her bag. She stood up as she threw it over her shoulder. Auggie watched her, wondering, as Sam made it towards the door

"No," she corrected, opening the handle, "I have to go cry."

And as Sam exited the room — apparently to go cry — she left her drawing behind. Auggie was quick to notice the colorful paper, and stood to walk over and pick it up.

"Wait, you forgot your—"

But then Auggie took in what the drawing was actually of.

"What the...?"

Staring up at him was a drawing of Eddie Munson's trailer, featuring Eddie and Chrissy Cunningham walking inside.

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Sam's last class of the school day being PE brought many things for her. The first and most foremost was endless happiness that this godforsaken school day was almost done. However, it also meant that she basically had a free period. The basketball championships were after school, so their coach would just be focused on forcing all the guys to play basketball — obviously, that didn't apply to Sam, so she was essentially let off the hook.

Lucas wasn't, on the other hand. He shared the class with Sam. Down on the court, he was playing basketball with the other guys in his class getting all sweaty and stupid. Sam didn't know. She wasn't really paying attention.

Sam wasn't paying attention to see that Lucas was paying attention to her. He always would. Sam wasn't sitting on the bleachers properly — she was sat on the floor of the seating instead of the actual seating with her legs looped through the underneath of the bleacher set in front of her. Even from a distance, Lucas could tell something was up.

So Lucas left the game to check up on her.

He brought his long legs off the court and onto the new bleachers they'd just been able to afford because of their school's obsession with men's athletics. Sam's figure grew closer in his eyes as he did.

"That can't be sanitary," Lucas tried to joke, but it came out a million times too awkward. Sam's head snapped up to him in some sort of astounded daze. Then, impulsively, he sat on the bleacher in front of the one where her legs were so that they were even in height; his arms rested crossed on the bleacher that her legs were underneath.

Sam huffed sarcastically. "Sure, Lucas, sit right here. I don't mind."

Lucas finally realized it then — Sam's eyes were puffy, and her face was swollen, and he went into worry mode in about 0.03 seconds.

"Woah, hey, what's wrong? What happened?" Lucas interrogated, leaning closer and searching her face. "Did someone do something to you?"

Sam scrubbed her hands over her face, partially trying to hide it from him. She dismissed, "It's — It's nothing, Lucas, really. Go back to your basketball game."

"Absolutely not!" Lucas exclaimed, like he was appalled by the idea.

"Lucas, I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah, clearly," he scrutinized, and the sarcasm was evident. Serious again, he said, "You can talk to me, Sam. You know I'm — here, right? You don't have to... keep hiding."

It's like you're not even you anymore. It's like you're a corpse or something.

This isn't me.

Sam faltered, and then she was sighing before she looked down at his arms over her legs. "It's Justin, we... we broke up."

Lucas went silent, presumably processing in his mind.

"Oh."

She looked back up at him and gave Lucas a tight-lipped smile. "Oh," she echoed, before breathing in. "It's not like — I mean, it's not like it wasn't coming. But..."

But I wish I hadn't walked in.

"But it hurts?" Lucas guessed, brow raising.

Sam shrugged, because honestly, she didn't know. "I just feel stupid, I guess—"

"You're not stupid, Sam."

"I feel stupid," she argued, trying not to get choked up again. "I wasted ten months of my life. And it took me having to walk in on him making out with Carrie to finally pull the plug."

The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She didn't intend to tell him, really. Or anyone. She didn't want to bring attention to the very embarrassing fact she was cheated on — irrefutable evidence that Sam was an idiot who let it happen to her in naive obliviousness that there was good in him despite the red flags; proof she wasn't the genius she was made out to be.

Now, I'm older and I'm — I'm just a disappointment.

Her words caught Lucas off guard.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Sam laughed humorlessly. "I really wish I wasn't."

"What the fuck?" he questioned scandalized. "Seriously, what the fuck? What an asshole!"

"Jesus, Sinclair, language," Sam tried dissuading his anger with light-hearted banter, but Lucas wasn't having it.

"No, fuck him!" Lucas exclaimed. He had to stop and let out a huff devoid of all amusement. "I can't believe thi — He really had the audacity? That idiot?!"

She'd never seen him this angry, not in her seven years of knowing him. Not when he and Mike fought that one time over El. Not when he was around Billy or Will's dad or Sam's uncle. Not ever.

"Lucas, it's fine," she tried saying, because this wrathful side of him was a little scary to be witnessing; he was angrier about it than Sam was.

"No, it's not!" Lucas snapped, and Sam flinched back a little just out of pure shock. "You should be with someone who's crazy about you, Sam" — I'm crazy about you, his mind screamed. "You shouldn't have had to put up with him ever. If he's not into Samantha Hughes, then there's something wrong with him."

Playfully, Sam rolled her eyes with a huff of laughter. "You're funny," she sassed. "That's so not true."

Lucas scoffed, "Seriously, Sam? It's so true! I'm sick of you being the only person who doesn't see how incredible you are!" He was clearly passionate about the subject, so overcome that he forgot himself.  "And — And Zimmerman never appreciated that, but he never even deserved to know! He never deserved to have someone so amazing like you in his life."

"You don't mean that," Sam said, sad smile painted on her face.

"Yes, I do," he argued sternly, as if daring Sam to protest him. "You're my best friend. He walked away from that."

Sam couldn't help herself from smiling, moving a hand to cover up the shy thing before it was noted. Lucas had just said that — said that Sam was his best friend — and he had meant it. Even through the months of distance and silence, even through Sam's rougher edges, even through it all. Lucas thought Sam was his best friend.

The possible words died out in her throat. As the beat of silence grew, Sam visibly struggled to say something more. She wasn't used to being at a loss for words.

"Why do you think he did, anyways?" Sam asked shyly.

The ingenuity in his voice spoke volumes. He shrugged, "I don't know, actually. I think you're the kind of girl a guy would come back for."

Sam found herself tearing up again, although she didn't know why this time.

She had noticed Lucas, always noticed Lucas; his loyalty, his pride, his heart, his mind. There was a mutual understanding that had always flowed between Sam and Lucas, they were best friends and they got one another like no one else. She noticed when he was happy, or when he was sad, or when he was angry, and Sam would confidently argue that none of it was attributed to her empathic powers.

But she was seeing him now. Sam realized right then there was a difference.

It felt like she was seeing life in a new light.

Sam realized that while she'd been looking at Lucas, Lucas had been looking at Sam the entire time.

Maybe the world wasn't ending at fifteen.

Sam sniffled through the new, glistening tears. "It felt really good to yell at him," she admitted, laughing nervously at the confession. "Is that horrible to say?"

But Lucas was cackling at her admission, and nothing felt horrible in the moment. Sam couldn't help but laugh more confidently with Lucas as she wiped away the tears before they could fall.

This felt like a good thing.

There was nothing bad about it.

"Honestly I think you could kill him, and I still wouldn't find it horrible," Lucas responded lightly, and Sam genuinely couldn't tell if he was joking or now.

A beam snuck its way onto Sam's face, causing her to tilt her head down to hide it from view. She sobered her smile, before craning her head back up towards Lucas.

"Right. Thanks for this, Luke. Really—"

From the court, they heard a loud whistle CHIIIIIIRP for a duration of multiple seconds. Sam flinched in fear, whipping her head over to see Coach Garroway glaring fiercely at the pair.

"Sinclair, what are you doing? Quit flirting and get over here!"

Sam and Lucas made startled eye contact with one another. Then, they were laughing with wide eyes before either could help themselves.

Facing his coach again, Lucas rushed out, "Uh, yes, Coach!"

He got up quickly from the bleachers, but he looked at Sam again. She didn't know why his gaze made her feel giddy — the second they met each other's gaze again they started snickering.

Lucas mouthed, 'Wish me luck.'

'Luck,' Sam mouthed back, looking oddly fond.

There was a new feeling swarming in her chest.

But it wasn't weird.

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

Sam had something to admit — she had to be at Lucas's game tonight. It was kind of a requirement that came with being in AV. Apparently, Principal Higgins trusted she and Auggie enough to be the ones that commentated the game to those who might want to listen on the radio. Her and Auggie switched out who commented every game, so Sam had been to almost all Lucas's games for AV.

But Sam had something else to admit — she would go no matter what.

And so Sam's wretched school day had ended, although it didn't end as wretched as she thought. A few hours had passed, and now it was time for the Championship basketball game.

The bleachers were full, the crowd was roaring, and the cheerleaders were, well, cheering. Sam was wearing an announcer headpiece next to Corey, Nancy, and some random lanky dude — who were all there for the school newspaper. Auggie was in the AV room, taking the feedback from Sam's commentary and broadcasting it.

Corey snapped a picture of the crowd before he leaned into Sam. "Any reason why August Santos wants to throw a party with me over your recent single relationship status?"

Sam covered her face mic, even if they weren't broadcasting yet, but just in case. "Probably because of my recent, single relationship status?" she responded, as if it wasn't a big deal.

The random, lanky kid peered from behind Nancy, interjecting himself into the conversation with, "Wait, you're not taken anymore?"

Sam's and Corey's heads whip over to him, the former confused.

"Who are you?" asked Sam.

He stepped forward, flirtingly offering his hand. "Well, m'lady," he said, "I'm Fred—"

"You and Zimmerman broke up?!" Nancy interjected, finally processing.

Sam made an indignant face, eyes darting to the floor.

"I really don't want to talk about this now, guys..."

"So, you did!" cheered Corey, way too excited about the new arrangement.

"Fine," Sam grumbled, a little snappy. "Yeah. We did. He cheated on me. It's not that big of a deal. The world is still spinning. We can carry on."

In unison, Corey, Nancy, and Fred cried, "Not that big of a—?!"

"Hello, Indiana!" Sam began speaking into her mic hastily. "Welcome to your annual High School Basketball Championship. I'm Sam Hughes, here to a void a painfully awkward conversation about my cheating ex!"

The thing was that Sam hated the role of being game announcer; it was too much pressure for someone who knew next to nothing about basketball. So, she figured that if the school was going to torture her by giving her the job, then she was going to torture them as well.

"This year we have the Hawkins Tigers going up against another team I — don't actually know the name of... Hold on... Give me a second... Oh. The Falcons. Yeah, them. I can't remember what school they belong to, though, so we'll just assume it's somewhere!"

Nancy shoved Sam in the side with a pointed glare, causing Sam to sigh.

"Okay, okay, I'm going!"

The band quieted at the sight of Sam walking up to the middle of the court. She fixed a standing mic to her height so that she could speak to the members in the gym rather than only the radio-listeners. Sam couldn't deny her anxiety at standing, alone, in front of everyone. She looked to Lucas, who sent her a small smile and a reassuring nod, and Sam felt the ability to breathe return to her again. She cleared her throat.

"If everyone will now, please rise for our national anthem," she said, and the crowd rose after. "Singing for us tonight — all the way from Nashville — Hawkins High alumnae Tammy Thompson. Woo."

The crowd began to cheer for Tammy as Tammy replaced Sam's spot behind the standing mic. Sam gratefully returned back to her spot next to Corey, Nancy, and Fred.

"You suck at this!" Corey whisper-shouted at her.

Sam covered her face mic. "I do it on purpose!" she whisper-shouted right back.

Then, the real nightmare began.

Tammy opened her mouth and began singing "The National Anthem."

"Oh, god," Sam cringed into her face mic. "I don't know if you guys at home can hear this. You're lucky if you can't. It really isn't good—"

"Seriously, Sam?" Nancy hissed, hand on her heart as Sam was supposed to giving her respect for her stupid country.

"I got cheated on today, cut me some slack! Shit. I forget this mic never turns off — If anyone's curious, I'm currently speaking to one of my ex-best friends' sister. But it's all right, I like her way more than I like him. Not romantically, of course. She's much older, I wouldn't want her catching a case—"

"Sam!" Nancy whispered, close to seething.

"Actually, you know," Sam looked Nancy up and down, contemplating her jokingly. "I've recently been put on the market, Nancy. I'm sure we'd make a great couple. How are you and Jonathan doing—?"

"Sam," Corey cut her off, tone dangerous.

"Okay, I'm done!" Sam cried defensively, widening her eyes in judgment. She turned her attention back towards the court to be respectful— "Oh. So is Tammy. Thank god... And so the first quarter begins!"

"The ball is thrown in the tossup, and... senior Captain Jason Carver tips it off! That's ball to Hawkins, thankfully! Unfortunately, though, Jason is the one with the ball. If we're all being honest here: I can't stand him. You people should have heard him at the pep rally this morning. Brought up dead people to raise morale and everything — It was rough... I should start a podcast, you know... Why are we cheering? Oh! Carver shoots and scores! That's 2-0 Hawkins — Damn it! Falcons scores as well. Congratulations, I guess. 2-2. Look, Jason's yelling at someone! Who's surprised?"

"And Carver passes to — Oh, damn! Number 10 from Hawkins just got his shit rocked by Number 11 from the Falcons. That's a total foul, you assholes! Someone slap the ref for me! Carver's definitely not happy, either! A moment of silence for his impossibly huge ego... and Number 10."'

"Number 10 isn't looking too good, I fear. I really don't know your name, sorry dude. He's being benched for the time being, though. Get well soon, Unnamed Hawkins Player. I think you're a junior!"

"Wait... Wait, what's going on? No way. No way! They're putting Lucas in! Corey, look, they're putting Lucas in! Oh, my god, Lucas! Go Lucas! FUCK YEAH, LUCAS! What, Nancy? Oh, yeah. Hawkins substitutes Number 10 for freshman Lucas Sinclair, Number 8. Can you guys believe that? That's my best friend! Oh, you guys don't know how exciting this is! I hope Mike and Dustin shit their pants tonight for missing this!"

"Lucas has the ball! Some Falcon dude's right behind him. Literally. Fuck shit up out there, Lucas, but don't die! Lucas passes to Carver. Carver shoots. Carver scores! 36-33 Falcons. We're getting there! I hope Coach Garroway is realizing we started scoring again after he sent Lucas in! Doesn't seem like much of a coincidence to me! Actually, I should shut up. He already yelled at me today for distracting Lucas."

"Hell yeah, Patrick! Hawkins' senior Patrick McKinney brings the score to 47-45 in Hawkins' favor! Keep it up, McKinney!"

"Who let the Falcons have the ball? Are you kidding me?! Drop it! Drop it! Drop it! Drop — Oh, screw you, man! 52-50. Falcons. Shit's fucked."

"Andy Fairchild from Hawkins shoots the ball, and — in your fucking face, Falcons, I hope you're eating shit! He scores! 58-56 Hawkins!"

"Haha, 69! What?! It's funny, Nancy! Well, just because you have no sense of humor..."

"Oh, god. Carver just called time-out. This can't be good. He's wearing his constipated face... I can't tell you guys what they're talking about, because I can't hear, but Jason's definitely not happy. I'll try to fill in the silence for you all. 'Guys, I'm Jason Carver, and I'm gonna bring up people's dead siblings to get the school excited for a basketball game! That seems like a good idea! Blah, blah, blah. You guys suck. I'm awesome, I'm Jason Carver. Me, me, me. I have a girlfriend, and I'm the team captain, and I'm...' Okay. Wait. Is this just me being single, or is he kind of hot? Shit. Sorry. Momentary lapse of judgment. I take it back, guys! He's not hot! In my defense, my eye prescription is -4.00/-6.00. I don't really know what it means, but my optometrist said 'yeesh' every time I called out another letter. Are they allowed to do that? I don't know. I hope she's doing well. Women in STEM, you know? Thank god, timeout is over. I can stop talking about this now."

"Carver has the ball. Again. No one's surprised. Clap if you care... With 30 seconds on the clock he shoots, and — jumps eerily high, good lord, Jason. Oh, you good-for-nothing douchebag! Carver misses! I swear, Jason, I'll fucking — hold up, hold on! Lucas just got the ball! Lucas has the ball, guys! 5 seconds on the clock! He shoots! Come on, Lucas! Come on... HOLY SHIT! HE MAKES IT IN! LUCAS SINCLAIR, YOU BUZZER-BEATER GOD! HAWKINS WINS 70 TO 68! FUCKING HELL I'M SO PROUD OF YOU, I'M—"

Sam was too excited to care about commentating, as her face mic was accidentally thrown off and she ran towards Lucas.

The basketball team ran up to Lucas, but he didn't even seem to care. He just ran to Sam first. When she excitedly launched herself at him, Lucas picked her up in a hug, lifting her off the floor and spinning her around in a hug.

"I — We did it! Sam, we did it!"

"You did it, Luke!" Sam exclaimed. She looked down at him (due to Lucas giving her a momentary height advantage), green eyes glistening, and she couldn't have looked more proud. "Congrats! You're fucking amazing!"

"Sinclair, you're insane!" she heard the obnoxious voice of Jason yell. Then, the basketball team was all crowding around them, and Lucas set Sam down as the team began picking him up.

Sam didn't even care. She ran from the sweaty boys and towards where she was previously standing with a beaming smile. Her smile may have faltered for a moment, though, when she grabbed her face mic off the ground and put it back on her head.

"I do think I broke the mic, but if you guys can still hear me, I'm shaming you for not seeing this in person! That was — I mean, he looked Heaven-sent on that court, are you kidding me?! Sam's Game Recap: Jason Carver is a dick who's occasionally attractive from angles, the Falcons ate shit today, and Lucas Sinclair is beautiful — wait. I didn't mean — I meant — I don't know, I don't even care, I'm just so proud of him. He deserves this, you know? His first time off the bench, and — fuck! You know? Anyways. Professional Game Recap: The Hawkins Tigers bring home the conference title for the first time in 22 years, all thanks to a buzzer-beater from Lucas Sinclair. I think — Oh. Well. I think I have to go. Auggie's gonna cut the feed at... oh shit, right now. Have a great night, everyone! Happy spring break! Feel free to relish in Lucas's victory, Tiger Fans!"

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

"This is August Santos, officially coming on the stereo to formally apologize for anything offensive and obnoxious said during today's commentating. Forgive Sam — she knows not what she does. I do wish everyone a great night, though, and an even better spring break. Go Tigers!"

With that, Auggie cut the stereo feed. He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his hands.

"That girl..." he muttered tiredly.

Just then, there was a figure shooting into the AV room at concerning speeds. For a moment, Auggie thought that it was Sam hyperactively coming in to freak out the game in private. He was quick to discover, though, that it wasn't tiny, Samantha Hughes.

It was a breathless and panicked Steve Harrington leaning against the door.

Auggie jumped in terror, face warming up at the sight. Steve's eyes were shut as he tried breathing in and out, and he hadn't seemed to realize that he wasn't alone yet.

"Excuse me?"

Steve's eyes shot open, flinching out of his skin. He made a face of horror upon realizing the room wasn't abandoned. Steve exclaimed, "Shit, dude, you scared me!"

"I scared you?!" Auggie cried incredulously.

Steve looked around the room, realizing how the current situation looked in reality. He cringed to himself slightly.

"Alright, well, okay," he sighed in defeat. "Yeah. That's fair. Sorry about all this, it's just..."

Auggie raised an eyebrow as Steve trailed off. "'Just'...?"

Steve suddenly tried to change the subject. He forced on a charming smile and offered out a hand. "I'm Steve! he greeted.

Auggie stared at his hand, unamused.

"Yeah, I know."

The older boy threw back his head miserably at the three, simple words. Steve complained, "That was a bad 'yeah, I know,' wasn't it?"

"Um—"

"Look," Steve started, outstretched hand falling to his side, "I'm sorry for barging in here like this. It's just... you know. I was on this date, and, well — I mean, the game was good! Go Tigers, and all! I just couldn't stand my date, and now that I'm saying this all out loud, I hear how douchey it sounds, but if you were there, you just... You know?"

"No," said Auggie.

Steve winced, communing with Auggie in all of his deadpan expressions.

"Right, yeah. My brain gets, like, blocked sometimes. Or loose, maybe? Or it runs faster than I do. Do I not run fast enough? 'Cause my date just rubbed it in my face that the team won right after I graduated," Steve frowned, and Auggie was pretty sure he forgot Auggie was in the room with him again. "I try to run fast enough. I try to run fast enough every day, but it always feels like — like I'm behind everyone, and I can't catch up because I started too late. But it was because I was helping everyone else tie their shoes, and now I'm not enough."

Auggie leaned back in wild confusion. "Are we... still talking about... running?"

Steve realized he'd been rambling and snapped to meet Auggie's gaze with mortified eyes.

"Shit, I didn't mean all that," he hissed. "Forget anything I said. Right now I'm..."

"Your brain's loose?" finished Auggie, hiding his amusement.

"Yes! See, you get it," Steve smiled. Upon further inspection, Auggie could have sworn Steve Harrington was looking him up and down. "Wait, you're really familiar. I know you. I should know you."

The "should" made Auggie a little more offended than he needed to be. Unhelpfully, Auggie shrugged, "I don't know."

Steve read his reaction well, and grimaced. "I should, shouldn't I?" he asked rhetorically. "'Cause you know me, and now I look like a dick for not knowing you. Which, yeah, I used to be a dick, but... but now I'm a reformed dick. You believe me, right?"

Auggie didn't peg Steve the type of guy to ramble like this when he was nervous.

It was cute.

"Of course, Harrington," Auggie nodded, smirking.

Steve groaned, "Oh, would you please tell me your name? I'm begging."

Auggie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you?"

Steve choked on thin air, doubling over to try and catch his breath. He was totally taken aback, and Auggie contemplated helping him for a second, but he was totally soaking up Steve's dramatic reaction.

"W-Wait, huh?"

Auggie couldn't hold it on, anymore. He genuinely, full out laughed, not realizing how Steve straightened up and was dazed by the sight. Auggie recuperated himself with, "God, Harrington, I'm just messing. You're really going through it tonight, aren't you?"

"Truly," Steve laughed incredulously. "I'd never freak out about dates until I'm home, but tonight there was too many people, and everything got so... I can't describe it?"

"Overwhelming?" tried Auggie, brow raised. "You were overwhelmed?"

"Yes!" Steve cried, like Auggie was the holy grail. "God, Smiths, you're really smart, you know?"

Auggie's nose scrunched up in confusion, catching Steve off guard again. Almost disgusted, he questioned, "Smiths?"

"Your shirt," Steve mentioned to the band tee covering Auggie's upper body. "The Smiths. You won't tell me your name, so I'm calling you Smiths."

Auggie's mouth twitched up in an amused smile, but he tampered it quick enough.

"Right, of course. My bad," he rose his hands sarcastically in defense.

"Well, it is, isn't it? You won't tell me your name. Or how I know you."

Auggie shrugged unapologetically. "I guess I'm an enigma."

And Steve... clearly had no clue what "enigma" meant.

"Uh. Yeah... Enigma. Sure. And clearly that means you were..." Steve pointed to the soundboard like an idiot, "— working... on..."

Auggie's amusement increased, and this was better than any basketball game he could ever listen to Sam commentate. He gestured towards Steve, said, "Take your time, Harrington. You'll get there, I'm sure."

Steve stopped trying, scowling half-heartedly.

"You think this is funny, huh?"

"Hilarious, actually," Auggie grinned, and it was a genuine thing.

Steve's glare faltered. "Uh — Well, I'm glad my emotional stress and mental turmoil brings you amusement, Smiths, but I'm personally very embarrassed and want to go home."

Auggie rolled his eyes fondly with a smile. He agreed, "You have had quite the night. Bad date, basketball team breaks the losing streak..."

"Don't forget stumbling into a random room with a random stranger who knows more about my well-being than anyone besides my co-worker," Steve added, and Auggie couldn't help but throw back a head and laugh.

"I'm sure your co-worker is very lucky," said Auggie, walking towards the random bookshelf in the room without Steve really thinking much of it.

Steve shrugged, and Auggie was happy to listen while he talked. "Well, it's more like I'm the lucky one, you know? I had to be de-assholized somehow. And, I mean, without her I'd be dead."

Auggie found the book he was looking for and picked it up.

"Yeah, Robin's great like that," he replied casually.

"Right?" Steve agreed eagerly — Then, he realized that Steve never mentioned Robin by name before. "Wait, what?"

Auggie picked up his bag with his free hand, laughing.

"How'd you know that?" asked Steve, just standing and watching as Auggie walked towards the door. "Smiths? Hey? How'd you know? Smiths?"

Then Auggie fucking threw a book at Steve before he left the AV room finally.

Luckily, Steve had reflexes good enough to catch the thick book. His face went deadpan as he read the title.

"The Dictionary. Haha, very funny! ...And I'm talking to no one."

◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦

read the chapter name folks!! callback to chapter "pauses, then says..." from season 1!! i've been planning it all along!!

AND STEPH GOT A POV!!!

AND JAYSAM BROKE UP!!!

AND SAM ADMITTED TO FEELING DIFFERENTLY ABOUT LUCAS!!!

who else stans mrs. rowley? i stan mrs. rowley

ROBANIE FROM STEPH'S PERSPECTIVE Y'ALL. you thought she was this put together older sister this whole time then BOOM. she's a gay disaster. what is it with that family and being gay disasters?

also idk if y'all got the hint but vickie won't... be a thing in this book....

sorry? (not really idc)

but sam not even eating lunch cus she doesn't have somewhere to sit:( can someone just give her a hug already :(

sam and mike fight :( they've never done that before so writing this really hurt like mike wheeler you really let me down. you were supposed to be the one person she can always depend on.

also, side note, the california plot is lowk really boring to me lmao so i'm not writing it. this is the last of corey and mike yall will see for a bit. we'll miss the gay idiots dearly

JUSTIN ZIMMERMAN WHEN I CATCH YOU. WHEN I CATCH YOU JUSTIN ZIMMERMAN. HOW DARE YOU JUSTIN ZIMMERMANLKFGJDLRTUOPMVO

SAM ATE HIM UP AND HE DESERVED THAT SHIT. HE DESERVED WORSE.

although i hope that breakup was worth the wait because i felt bad for not having them broken up earlier. better late than never and i'm so glad sam went off on his ass.

dude the things this idiot makes sam think about herself :(( SCREW HIM.

"And, oddly enough, all Sam could really think was Max would be so proud of me right now." my heart's breaking why did i write that

meet auggie!! love that little freak!! how are we feeling about him??

um but that drawing. sam what did you do...

okay the hughclair convo made up for all the angst like YALL???? OMG???? IDEK WHAT ELSE TO SAY BUT THAT!!!!

sam with justin "And she felt like the world was ending at age fifteen."

sam with lucas "Maybe the world wasn't ending at fifteen."

sam when she realized she felt something for justin: "I don't know... Sometimes I think so, then other times... Other times he's just weird. I don't know how to explain it."

sam when she realized she felt something for lucas: There was a new feeling swarming in her chest. But it wasn't weird.

i told y'all i had a plan...

and to top the day off - sam's commentating LMAO SHE'S SO UNSERIOUS

like "Sam is different" my ass that is totally something our beloved sam would do

i can just imagine max listening to sam commentate back at home just to feel a little bit still connected to sam and lucas. goodnight i'm sad again.

and an introduction to auggie and steve! we're saying goodbye to one gay idiot couple (colorwheel) and saying hello to another gay idiot couple (stauggie)

hope u guys enjoyed the chapter! i'm sitting here wondering what my oc's hogwarts houses would be cus i cannot decide. or their godly parents.

what'd you think?