Facts of Life - In A Family Way .

Part 2. Smile Politely Back At You

Brooke was absolutely positive that Sam was going to die from clogged arteries.

There was no way around it, the way Sam would eat. As if the fries given to them weren't already salty enough, thanks to the packet of it that she had poured over her portion, Sam had to go and also pour a second packet directly into her ketchup.

Wrapping fingers around her lettuce wrapped hamburger, Brooke couldn't hide her disgust. "Sam, you're going to have a heart attack when you're thirty."

The warning didn't have the desired effect. Instead of being properly frightened at the possibility, Sam instead gave her a wicked grin, grabbing yet a third packet of salt and opening her burger, sprinkling it on her lettuce as well. "At least I'll go happy and salty. Is that all you're having?"

Brooke stared down at her own meal. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Sam said, already digging over the table for her fries. "I'm just gonna steal some of these, if you don't mind..."

"Wow," Brooke noted, as the thin fries were dunked into the salty ketchup and then shoveled into the open mouth. "You really were starved for this stuff."

Mouth chewing, Sam nodded, sighing miserably. "One thing I failed to note upon accepting Northwestern, In-n-Out is a strictly a California thing. Over there, people stared at me like I had a second head when I suggested trying to find a place slightly healthier than White Castle."

"I guess it is a bit of an oxymoron," Brooke noted, and took a bite of her burger, lettuce crunching in her mouth deliciously. "There is an advantage sticking close to home, I guess."

"Mmm," Sam said, too busy chewing to really respond. Licking the dripping ketchup off her fingers, she shot Brooke a quizzical look. "How is good ole' SC? Dating the star quarterback yet?"

Flushing, Brooke began to pick at her lettuce wrap, trying to gather the lettuce together. "No," she said, a bit indignantly. "He's just a line backer."

"Oh, God," Sam's eyes nearly disappeared into the top of her head. "Blonde? Goes by the name of Sean or Riley or something?"

"Adam," Brooke answered, annoyed. "And he happens to be very nice."

"Totally," Sam said, nodding and then smiled, obviously in the middle of a joke that Brooke clearly wasn't getting.

"What?" Brooke asked, a little edgier than she wanted to come off.

"Nothing, it's just..." Sam shrugged and tore off a chunk of meat and bun. "Sounds like you're exactly where you wanna be. In a sorority, dating a football player... at USC, premiere football university on the West Coast..."

"So?"

"It's just a little predictable," Sam finished, and looked at her, dark eyes twinkling merrily. "Gonna join the Song Girls too?"

"Predictable?" The condescending tone was beyond infuriating, and Brooke felt an uncontrollable urge to grab Sam's big honking soda and fling it all over her brown enlightened head. "What, just because I didn't suddenly decide to go all lesbo I'm being predictable?" Sam's smile froze. "Look, Sam, just because you decided to have some major lifestyle change doesn't mean there's anything wrong with going the traditional route." Flinging her disintegrating burger onto her plastic tray, Brooke buried her fingers into her blonde locks. "And for the record, I can't join the Song Girls, because I can't do the splits anymore, thanks to stiff joints and decreased blood flow that occurred during my two month long coma."

A mounting headache helped ignore the quiet girl on the other side of the table, and Brooke sniffled somewhat angrily, unsure why she was suddenly so needled by Sam and her 'gayer than thou' attitude.

Soft fingers suddenly brushed against hers, so light and quick she wasn't sure it happened at all, until she glanced up and discovered a somber gaze staring back at her.

"I'm sorry," Sam said quietly. "I didn't mean to ... demean that. If anything I'm happy for you."

"You're happy for me?" she repeated.

"Well, that's what you wanted, isn't it?" Sam asked. "Back to basics? I mean, that's kinda the impression I got when..."

Breathing out raggedly, Brooke bit down on her bottom lip. Her fingers were still tingling where Sam had touched her, and she rubbed her index finger on her other hand over the spot.

"Honestly?" she began, a hesitant smile floating on her lips. "I'm so bored, Sam." Sam's eyebrows came together in response. "I mean, you're right. It's just so... predictable. And not that there's anything wrong with my sisters or with Adam, but... it's all the same, you know?"

Sam's fingers went to her long hair, pulling it behind her ears. "Not really." A crooked smile appeared on the beautiful face. "Everything for me is different. Everything."

Of course it would be. New school, new living arrangements, new friends, new sexual orientation.

"How are you coping?" she asked, gently as she could.

Shrugging, Sam's fingers came together, kneading with each other. "Okay, I guess. Rebecca's been really great, you know about... dealing with me."

Rebecca. The name had a curious effect on her, and Brooke had to bite down the uncomfortable lurch in her stomach. Her smile wobbled, but thankfully, Sam wasn't looking up at her to see it.

It was really weird, to be jealous of just a name, but looking at Sam, Brooke knew it was more than that. It was more than the feeling that turned her into a back-stabbing bitch when she decided she wanted to take Josh from Carmen, when she decided she wanted Harrison before Sam could have him. What she was feeling was sadder than that, a little hopeless, and the envy inside of her touched her in a place where she ached, because Rebecca had a piece of Sam that Brooke had never seen before.

"How'd you guys meet?" She tried to be casual, curious, and nothing else. Sam glanced up and when their eyes locked, she smiled politely. Brown eyes studied her carefully, but Brooke must have appeared sincere, because the other girl only drew out a long breath and grabbed a fry, chewing on it thoughtfully.

"In class," Sam said. "She's a sophomore, but she was taking this GE because she had put it off, and you know, I understand why, because Geology is heinous. But we ended up as lab partners."

"Oh."

"So, then she invited me to a party, and um... it was full of lesbians." The embarrassed smile on Sam's face made Brooke choke just a little. "Apparently I pinged. So there was this big confrontation when everybody thought we were together, and she was incredibly cool about it, and then one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I had kissed her."

Chest tightening, Brooke found it a little hard to swallow the last bit of her hamburger, especially since it now tasted as if it were made of sand. "Wow." She had kissed Rebecca. She inhaled sharply and took another breath out. "And that did it?"

"Not necessarily, but it was really nice, and um... and I kinda went with it. So... four months later, here we are."

Here they were. Brooke nodded a little too energetically, feeling oddly like a chicken. "So... if it's only been Rebecca, how can you be sure that... you know..."

"That I'm gay?" An amused smile curled on Sam's face, obviously aware of Brooke's uncomfortable state.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"I don't, I'm not. I'm still trying to figure it out." Grabbing a napkin, Sam began to methodically rip it to shreds. "But I'm more comfortable and... passionate about Rebecca than I was ever was with George. I realized, it shouldn't be that much work. And it's not. And you know, now that I’m with her, I've been able to look back and view things a little differently. It puts a new perspective."

"What kind of things?"

Sam was lost in thought, and suddenly she glanced up, and smiled tightly. "Doesn't matter."

An intense sort of quiet lingered over the table. Suddenly fragile, Brooke studied the lines and features of her step sister, and felt suddenly like crying.

"Sam," she said, a rough whisper as she gathered together the remnants of her burger. "Thanks. You... didn't have to tell me all of that."

There was a quiet pause. "Yeah, well, I guess I've been wanting to get it out." Grabbing the trash onto a single tray, Sam shimmied out of the booth and headed toward the garbage can.

Sam didn't let her back in easily. The drive back from shopping was done in silence, and when they were home, Sam had buried herself into her room, obviously wanting to be alone.

Brooke got a call from Stephanie, the fellow rushie who lived in Laguna, and was given details about the pre-Christmas beach party.

"Thank God it's Cali!" she chirped in Brooke's ear. "Where else could we have a party on the beach on December 23rd! I bet the other girls are so jealous of us!"

Brooke wasn't so sure. Christmas parties with a promised shirtless stripping Santa didn't really seem like her idea of getting into the spirit, but she supposed that was why she had come home. The house smelled like cookies and chocolate, and Jane asked her to make the fudge, since only Brooke had the patience to stand for twenty minutes over a hot stove, stirring the thing.

At a year and a half, Mac was at the precarious stage where she could walk but preferred to crawl, and because of that, the house remained continually spotless, with Jane being almost ridiculously meticulous about baby gates and her Swiffer sweeper. Each room was over flowing with toys, and Brooke seriously suspected that between the four of them, Mac stood a very good chance of being spoiled rotten.

It didn't stop her from feeding little Mac-y a bit of chocolate, when the little girl toddled her way to her and wrapped her chubby arms around Brooke's leg.

"Yum!" Mac tooted happily, and Brooke giggled at the little brunette head, quickly brightening in color. Scruffing at the fluffy bangs, she thought she looked a picture of Sam.

"God, she's getting so big." Glancing, Brooke spotted a supremely casual Sam stepping into the kitchen, wiping her palms down on her jeans, eyeing the baby.

"Yeah," Brooke noted. "Can you believe it's been more than a year since we delivered her?"

"Umm, I delivered her?" Sam noted. "You freaked out."

"Semantics," Brooke said, and then couldn't help the small grin when she noticed Sam's eyes twinkling in response.

"So you got stuck with fudge duty again, huh?" Sam asked, hiking herself up onto the counter, watching her intently.

"Keep me company?" Brooke smiled, stirring methodically. "It's taking longer than I remember."

Sam agreed wordlessly, preferring to make funny faces as Mac, face half buried in Brooke's leg, stared suspiciously at her.

"Wow," Sam said, laughing a little uncomfortably. "I don't even think she remembers me."

"Of course she does," Brooke said, reaching down to pat again at the soft downy hair. "She's just shy."

"Right," Sam said, obviously not believing her. "God, I didn't even think about it, going away for college. I missed her first word, I missed her teething."

"Oh, trust me," Brooke said, interrupting her. "Be glad you missed that. I was only here on weekends and Jane and Dad were both so testy I took my clothes to the Laundromat rather than be here."

"Another perk, free Laundromat," Sam added.

"Well, you get snow," Brooke said, keeping one eye on her pot and another on little Mac. "And you get to experience something different. And you're not called down every other weekend to babysit."

"True." Sam's heels banged against the cabinets, and she leaned forward, sticking her tongue out playfully at the still staring Mac. "She looks just like you."

"Really?" Brooke stared quizzically down at the baby. "I thought she looked more like you."

Hopping off the counter, Sam leaned into the little face, poking the baby in the ribs. Mac giggled in response, wrapping tighter around Brooke's leg. "Well, maybe she was meant to be the bridge," Sam said. "Oh, God, is this what our baby would look like?"

Sam sounded horrified, but just the thought made Brooke's smile slip just a little. Staring down at Sam, now sitting cross legged on the floor, and Mac, one hand clutching onto her sweats and the other sneaking hesitantly toward Sam, she felt a rather pronounced longing.

Clearing her throat, she straightened both eyes now on her pot. "Well, in a way she is. She's half ours, at least. We did deliver her. I think she's as close to being our baby as we'll ever get."

Unable to keep her gaze away, she turned and found brown eyes locking onto hers intensely.

"Wow, it smells great in here!" Jumping slightly, Brooke nearly dropped the spoon into the pot. Jane paused, staring down at the floor. "Sam, get up off the floor, and grab Mac while you're at it. I haven't mopped at all today."

"Relax, Mom," Sam grumbled, gathering Mac into her and hoisting her up.

"Almost done?" Brooke found herself burning ridiculously, and she smiled a little too widely when Jane looked over her shoulder. "Looks good."

"Yeah," she answered hastily. "Looks great."

"Honey, why don't you go ahead and let me take over. Do you guys mind putting in a movie for Mac to watch? She's really into those Wiggles guys, but I think Mike and I might shoot somebody if we had to watch it again."

"No problem," Sam said, already moving toward the livingroom.

"Oh, Brooke?" Calling her back, Jane smiled at her, wrapping an apron over her midsection. "Can you stay for a second?"

Arms wrapped loosely around her torso, Brooke nodded. "Sure," she said, a little breathlessly.

"How'd it go?"

Glancing toward the closed door, Brooke cleared her throat, trying to loosen the tension in her shoulders. "It went fine."

"You seem like you're getting along," Jane said, grabbing a pair of oven mitts. "Is she talking to you?"

"Umm... a little bit. I don't really..."

"Oh, don’t worry," Jane said, waving her away. "You don't have to share. I’m just glad you two are acting more like sisters, is all."

The word caused a decisive tumble in her stomach, and Brooke only smiled stiffly and turned away.

"I'm going to die." Crossing her arms, Sam stared at the screen, utterly horrified. "I'm going to seriously die."

Between them, Mac giggled and clapped her chubby hands together, bouncing in her seat.

Brooke couldn't help an exasperated smile. "You ever wonder how much alcohol these guys drink to stay sane?"

"Good Lord," Sam shook her head. "How lucky was I to miss this before?" Onscreen, The Wiggles grinned happily, doing their little dances, surrounded by toddlers.

"They had a concert in LA," Brooke said. "Jane actually made Dad go."

"Okay, this is seriously creepy."

Hiding a smile, Brooke clapped along with Mac, as the baby screeched happily. Sam continued her horrified stare.

"She watches this? This is what they're feeding her? What happened to Sesame Street? Kids Incorporated? Barney!"

"Barney?" Brooke interrupted, amused. "You'd pick Barney over this?"

"Hey, I learned what pumpernickel was thanks to Barney," Sam scoffed.

"You'd pick a big purple dinosaur that magically shoots up when the parent's go away over four grown men who want nothing more than to hang around with little kids." Sam stared at her, and the idea sunk in. She shivered. "Okay, point taken."

"Gross." Crossing her legs, Sam stared down at Mac. "Gross, Mac." Mac grinned at her, and smacked her on the thigh. "Ouch."

Shifting in her seat, Brooke rubbed her finger on her ear thoughtfully. "So... are you doing anything on the 23rd?"

Sam glanced at her. "Why?"

"Well... there's that party I was telling you about..."

"Oh." Sam frowned, tongue sliding out to moisten her bottom lip in thought. Brooke had to look away, uncomfortable when she realized she was following the movement a little too closely. "What about Adam?"

"Oh, he's back home in Indiana." She felt awkward, and a little exposed. Curling her fingers together a small fist, she looked down at her lap. "We don't have to be there very long..."

"But you need to make an appearance?" Sam asked flatly.

"It wouldn't hurt," she admitted.

"Didn't you say you were bored with it?"

She did say that. Brooke's cheeks were hot, and she shuffled in her seat, blowing out a ragged breath. "I don't have any other friends right now, Sam." Glancing up, she shrugged. "Harrison- he's your friend, and... Mary Cherry is in the Alps with Carmen and Nicole..."

"Tried to kill you, got it." Nodding, Sam stayed quiet, moving only to steady Mac when she got too excited over the Wiggles. "Sure, why not," she responded.

Relief fluttered over Brooke, and she placed a palm on Mac's thigh. "Thanks," she said to the tv.

Dressing up for a sorority party on the beach was tricky. There was a dress code, but it was a function only in association, not formality, and because of that, Brooke thought she could get away with some nice jeans and a pea coat that could be peeled way to display a nicely tight top.

She was oddly apprehensive, as she stepped into the bathroom, ready to finish up her make up. In the week that had passed, the truce struck up with Sam had become something like the friendship they had developed before, and for that she was grateful. Evenings found Sam splayed on her bed, talking about things to her that Brooke sometimes wished she didn't know that much about. She now knew Rebecca's last name, and her favorite kind of take out, and the fact that Rebecca wanted Sam to move in with her into the dorms.

Brooke had taken small comfort in the fact that Sam wasn't ready to embrace the U-Haul quite yet.

"Besides, I'm thinking about doing a semester abroad," Sam told her that Wednesday, laying so comfortably on Brooke's bed that it made her ache just a little. "Don't want to make it anymore complicated."

"Really?" she asked her. "Where to?"

"Dunno," Sam responded. "Maybe Italy?"

Brooke had the same idea, and when Sam had mentioned it to her, an idea had begun to germinate. Still, there was enough delicacy in their tentative friendship that she didn't think horning in on Sam's travel plans was quite appropriate.

She had missed Sam. She understood it, and she was jealous of her too. Sam seemed to be open, comfortable, and a little relieved to be able to share every part of herself with Brooke. There was still a part of her that held out. Moments when Sam seemed on the verge of spilling too much, and then her mouth would shut and she would smile sheepishly and clam up.

Brooke didn't blame her. The year of the polite-freeze out was still fresh on both their minds, and Brooke felt like she was trying a little too hard to erase it.

Staring into the mirror, Brooke tried to look at herself. Sam said that Rebecca thought she had pinged. Did Brooke ping? Eyes narrowing, she looked at the curled waves of hair that cascaded down her shoulders, at the diamond earrings that hung delicately from her ears, the make up applied just so it looked a little better than natural.

"What are you doing?" In the mirror, Sam appeared behind her, and Brooke's mouth suddenly went dry. Dressed in dark colors, Sam was always obliviously stunning. In a halter top and dark jeans, she looked like a gothy sort of cheerleader, and it was an incredibly sexy look. Fussing with an earring, Sam smiled at her through the glass. "Looking for blackheads?"

"No," she said, a rough whisper. Straightening, she smoothed down her clothes. "You look good."

"Good enough for Pi Phi party?" Sam grinned, doing a mock turn. "Don't think they'll kick me out for not wearing pastels, do you?"

"I think you're going to get hit on left and right," Brooke told her honestly.

Blushing modestly, Sam shrugged. "Yeah, well, can't. Taken. Whatever. You look good, too. I like your hair long."

"Thanks." Hand rising self consciously to her curls, Brooke smiled. "I can do more with it."

Turning to rest her hip on the bathroom counter they now shared without complaint, Sam reached forward, fingers threading through the blonde curls. Stiffening, Brooke held her breath, suddenly tense as Sam played with it, fingers just rasping along the sensitive column of her neck.

"I like it," she said again, and then dropped her hand to her side. "You ready to get going?"

Recovering with a timid smile, Brooke nodded mutely. As Sam turned, Brooke reached up and cupped her neck, suddenly breathless.

"Brookie!" A small blonde plowed into Brooke's arms, peppering kisses on both cheeks. "You're here! You guys! Brooke is here!"

Beside her, Sam offered a weary grin, and Brooke patted Stephanie's shoulders. "Someone's obviously started drinking early."

"Oh, my God, you guys, this party RULES!" Stephanie hopped up and down in the sand. "Jason got a glow in the dark volleyball, and we're playing beach volleyball right over there! And Troy got sumo outfits and some guys are surfing!" Gushing over, she finally got sight of Sam. "Who're you?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, Stephanie, this is Sam," Brooke said, as Sam smiled in response.

"Oh, my God! The cute gay step sis!" Stephanie said, and Brooke immediately winced. "I'm so glad you came! Brooke is forever talking about you!"

"She is?" Sam asked, and Brooke's eyes closed, cursing Tequila and Stephanie's running mouth.

Shrugging helplessly, Brooke tried a pathetic smile as Stephanie immediately turned away, shouting at whoever would listen, "You guys! Brookie brought her cute gay sister!"

"Oh my God," Brooke breathed, horrified as the crowded party immediately began to inspect Sam like she was a zoo animal. "I’m sorry," She whispered hurriedly. "Someone was there when I got the phone call from Jane, and it just... spread."

"It's okay," Sam said, but clearly, it wasn't. Sam looked a little bit more tense, her mouth was a thin line. "But if any frat guy asks for a threesome or some bi-curious straight girl hits on me, I'm outta here."

Staring at the already tipsy crowd of both frat boys and curious straight girls, Brooke inwardly groaned. "Why don't I just get you something to drink?"

They were there only thirty minutes before Jamie and her boyfriend James approached her and Sam and both hit on her AND eluded to a threesome.

Thankfully, by then, Sam had already consumed two glasses of a very strong rum and coke, and one shot of kamikaze.

Because of that, Sam only stared at them, and Brooke, determined to keep USC's party crowd from collectively ruining Sam's perception of her forever, led her away quickly, holding tightly onto her hand.

The party was rambunctious and crazy, and Brooke determinedly remained sober. She was a little surprised at how quickly Sam was downing the drinks, but she strongly suspected it had less to do with Sam's drinking habits than it did just trying to get through the party where she was repeatedly stared at as if she was some sexy educational experiment.

"I'm sorry," Brooke said, for the twentieth time, moving them out of the house. "They're not all this bad, I swear."

"I know," Sam said, eyelids fluttering, obviously exhausted. Still, she was good-humored enough to smile. "At least the house is pretty."

They were still holding hands, and since Sam seemed to have no inclination to let go, Brooke intertwined their fingers, keeping their palms pressed together. "Have you seen the beach? It's amazing. Stephanie's dad owns this whole stretch, so it's private. One night after a formal, we call came over here and had a midnight naked swimming party."

"Nice," Sam said, and when she wobbled slightly, Brooke grinned, kicking off her shoes.

"Come on, let's walk some of that rum off." Swinging their hands between them, Brooke stared at Sam, as the other girl closed her eyes, and breathed in the salty air. With the moonlight flickering down on her, she seemed to almost glow. "You know, they probably would stare at you like that even if they didn't know you were gay," she said quietly, as her feet sank into the cool sand. "You look really beautiful tonight."

Sam gave a little snort, concentration focused now on trying to make it through the sinking sand. The sounds of the party now were more distant than before, as the tide hung back and the cool breeze felt a little wetter. "I really doubt I'm anybody's type in there."

"You'd be surprised," Brooke said, and then stopped unceremoniously when Sam suddenly plopped down, forcing her to stumble and nearly plow into her. "Guess we're sitting," she said breathlessly, steadying herself against Sam's shoulders.

"Yeah, siddown," Sam said, grinning up at her, and yanking on her hand. Curling up beside her, Brooke shivered a little, telling herself it was from the cold when Sam's cheek fell against her shoulder, nose burying into her throat. "I missed you," she said quietly.

In that moment, Brooke's insides seemed to liquefy, and she closed her eyes, breathing in unsteadily as her fingers wrapped even more tightly against Sam's, moved her chin slightly so feel the nudge of Sam's face against her sensitive throat, hot breath against her skin.

"I missed you too," she whispered, words barely heard above the crashing waves.

Sam's eyes were closed, and she appeared almost asleep, free hand reaching out to run along Brooke's forearm, an incredibly tender touch. Eyelids fluttered, Brooke was captivated.

"You know, I think I had a crush on you." Sam said it so methodically, and Brooke's heart nearly burst, eyes opening to stare down at the brown head, the warm body relaxed so sweetly against her. "Looking back. I think that was why I had such a problem with Mike and Mom getting married. I just... I couldn't figure out what was so creepy about it, but I think that was it." Brooke couldn’t move, entire body and mind focused on simply hearing Sam's drunk confession.

"Sam..."

"And later, after your accident," she continued, as if she hadn't heard her at all. "I thought you had figured it out. That you figured it out and were disgusted and that's why you didn't want to be with me anymore."

"Sam, I would never-"

"It's okay." Sam's head lifted, and Brooke was suddenly treated to two glittering orbs, sincere in their emotion. "I never expected anything. I'm with Rebecca now, and I'm happy. I'm just glad we're friends again. That's all I want from you, Brooke. That's all I need."

With that, Sam curled into her again, and closed her eyes, content with the crashing waves and the distant music wafting over. In that moment, Brooke knew Sam had found her peace.

Glancing up at the moonlight, Brooke's tongue swiped out and she tasted salt on her cheeks. She told herself she wasn't crying, that it was just the ocean's moist air.

Wiping at her cheeks with her free hand, she held her best friend and watched as the waves crashed into the sand, only twenty feet away.

END CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTERS