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Part 18B. She'll Say She's Just Not The Same

She missed Sam.

Brooke had spent so long repressing her feelings for her step-sister that now, even though she wanted so badly to embrace them, she felt herself trying hard to ignore the ache inside of her.

But she recognized it. The tightening in her chest that made it harder to breathe, the feeling of anxiety that made her constantly shift in her chair… the flash of phantom senses: a sweep of soft fingers against her forearm, fingers threaded through her own, the smell of Sam when Brooke buried her face into the crook of her neck…

She missed Sam.

It was recognizable. Tangible.

Brooke felt a sudden sting of moisture in her eyes, and she fought it, sucking in her breath as she shifted on the hard plastic of the uncomfortable airport chair.

“What’s wrong?”

To be seated next to Rebecca, Sam’s only other lover, was surreal. Brooke glanced up, took in the green eyes and the concerned, polite stare.

She understood why Sam had fallen for her.

She hated that feeling.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally.

It was quite possibly the last thing Rebecca had expected her to say. The other girl’s eyes narrowed for a moment, before she glanced away, shifting in her own chair and focusing on her coffee cup. “Why?” she said, her voice gravely with hidden emotion. “You didn’t fuck Sam when we were together, were you?”

It was a depressing, bad joke.

“No,” Brooke began, sucking in a fragile breath. “But I did go to your Spring Break-“

“Because Sam invited you.“

“And I slept with your best friend-“

“Because Abby wanted you.”

“I didn’t mean to break you two up.”

Jade orbs glanced up, locking with her own in an intense stare. “You didn’t.” Rebecca’s mouth tightened. “Sam was the one that freaked out at Spring Break. Not you. And yes, maybe sleeping with Abby wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I’ve done it too.”

Brooke exhaled unsteadily.

“You and I seem to have a lot in common,” Rebecca finished, a thin smile floating on her face at the irony.

Brooke slouched on the chair, head falling into her hands. “God… I don’t… I don’t even know how I got here.” She closed her eyes, tried to process her whirling thoughts, before sucking in a loud breath and straightened, turning to stare once more into Sam’s ex-girlfriend’s face. “You had a part of Sam I’ll never touch, Rebecca. You have to know that. Despite everything, you were her first-“

“Jealous?” Rebecca eyed her suspiciously.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. “But that isn’t why I’m saying it.”

The other girl took that in, and suddenly laughed, a tired chuckle, before turning her attention back to her coffee. “I didn’t, though.” When Brooke’s eyes narrowed, Rebecca’s brow arched in retaliation. “Come on, Brooke. I didn’t know about you when we first got together, but it didn’t take long to put two and two together.” Rebecca hesitated, before beginning again. “I wanted to believe it was more than it was. I put a lot of pressure on Sam to have the type of relationship I thought she and I should have, because she was perfect. Except for her temper.”

Brooke’s mouth twitched in sudden commiseration.

“We were never friends, though,” she continued. “At least not until after. She came to me, one night after Spring Break, and she wanted sex.” Brooke swallowed, her pulse bursting into her eardrums, as her mind played with the time line. After she and Sam had slept together. Rebecca noted her tightened features with a slight grin. “Yeah,” she responded, her voice rough. “She wanted sex from me because she was drunk and she was hurting, and she told me that she would be everything I wanted her to be if I could just make her forget.”

Unable to breathe, Brooke kept absolutely still.

“And that was when I realized what I was to her. I was a prop. A tool to make her forget you. She never loved me. She used me to try and get over you, and she was more in love with you than ever before and she knew that I would take her back. In a heartbeat.”

Brooke didn’t know how much more she could hear. Her tears were once again clouding her vision, and she didn’t bother to wipe them when a couple trickled down her cheek.

“And you know what the worst thing was?” Rebecca asked, looking defeated. “I was gonna do it. I was gonna let her to do it me because that was how badly I wanted to be with her. Because deep down I knew it all along. I knew she loved you. I knew she was using me. I didn’t care. And it was Sam that stopped it. Drunk Sam who pulled away and started sobbing in my bed because she wanted you and couldn’t be with you.”

“God,” Brooke breathed, so relieved she nearly hated herself for it, unable to mask the expression when Rebecca glanced at her. “I’m sorry,” she managed, using Stephanie’s sleeve to wipe her nose. “I just…”

“Don’t apologize,” Rebecca snapped, voice flat. “I’m just telling you… I was never her first.”

Brooke’s eyes lifted, connected with hers.

Rebecca’s mouth pulled down. “Please don’t feel sorry for me,” she breathed, raising the coffee cup to her lips. “I’m over her. Sam and I are… friends, I guess. But do me a favor. If you get her, hold on to her. You’ve ruined her for everyone else and I don’t have the heart to go through that again.”

Brooke had that statement before: from Harrison. It resonated inside of her. “I’ll get her,” she said, voice soft and thick. “And I’m never letting her go.”

Glancing at her, Rebecca looked almost relieved at the thought.

Her phone rang, cutting off the intense moment, and with an apologetic glance, Rebecca answered it.

Almost immediately, the girl stiffened. “Wait, what?!” Shooting her a hard look, Rebecca swallowed. “Yes. I mean… what are you- I don’t under-“ Clamping her jaw, Rebecca once again looked at her oddly. “Okay…, dammit, hold on!” Rising immediately, she offered Brooke a semi-apologetic smile. “I have to get this,” she said hurriedly and then walked away.

Left sitting by herself, Brooke felt dismissed.

Wiping her palms at her jeans, she let out an insecure breath, trying once again to steady the nervous nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Christelle, now slurping on a soda, ambled her way back toward her, slumping into the seat beside her, offering her a muted smile before pulling out the Gameboy she had halphazardly stuck into her back pocket.

“Howzit going?” she asked, in that monotone, flat voice.

“Um… okay?”

The entire row of locked together plastic chairs moved when Abby flopped into Rebecca’s vacated seat.

Eyes covered by dark designer sunglasses, she was expressionless. Without a word, Abby dug into her McDonald’s bag and held out a McMuffin.

Brooke’s stomach turned at the thought.

“I can’t eat right now,” she breathed, nose wrinkling at the pungent smell. “But thanks.”

“When’s the last time you ate something?” Abby asked sharply. The firm tone, the narrowed eyes, told Brooke Abby was worried.

Swallowing down her nausea, she rolled her eyes, grabbing the packaged breakfast sandwich.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” she mumbled, unwrapping it.

“Are you kidding?” Christelle didn’t look up from her video game. “Sam would kick our collective asses if you didn’t.”

Abby only shuffled in her seat, sighing dramatically. “Screw Sam,” she announced. “Where’s Rebecca?”

“On the phone,” Brooke answered, motioning down the corridor, where she could dimly see Rebecca waving emphatically, obviously distressed.

Abby arched a brow from behind her glasses. “She looks pissed.”

Brooke took a ginger bite of her sandwich. It tasted like sand. She grimaced, ignoring her churning stomach and forcing the bite down.

Beside her, Christelle continued to play with her Gameboy.

Abby leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. “Nice to see you two didn’t kill each other.”

There was a large lump in Brooke’s throat that made speaking difficult. Her eyes went to the flight board, noting the time with a pulsing heartbeat.

She couldn’t wait anymore.

Unsteadily, Brooke balled what was left of her sandwich, and rose to her feet, gathering the jacket to her as she watched the board nervously. “I should go.”

Christelle, digging her palm into her jeans, glanced up from her Gameboy, looking only slightly more alert than before. “Still got a half hour to go, Brooke.”

“I know,” she breathed. “But it’s something to do…I can’t just sit around. It’s driving me insane.”

Mouth pressing into a thin line, Abby looked up at her. “I still don’t get it.”

Brooke hesitated, fingers tightening against the puffy jacket. “I know,” she answered. “But thank you for being here just the same.”

Abby stared at her. Her mouth quirked impishly. “So, lover. One for the road?”

Despite herself, Brooke couldn’t help but grin. Leaning down, she pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Abby’s mouth. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Actually, you owe me a cool six hundred,” Abby answered. “But who’s counting.”

Brooke winced. The extravagant price of the plane ticket had taken all the money she had borrowed from Maria and Stephanie, and since the only seat left was first class, it had taken some of Abby’s as well.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” she said frankly. “Dad will just think I went a little crazy at the mall.”

Squeezing her friend’s shoulder, Brooke’s eyes shone with gratefulness. “Despite everything,” she managed.

Visibly uncomfortable, Abby shook her head, not letting her finish. Rising, she held up an arm. “Please don’t get mushy on me,” she said valiantly. “You’re going to get SAM back. Please don’t remind me.”

Still, when Brooke threw her arms around her for a final squeeze, Abby hugged her back.

“Okay…” With a shared smile at Christelle, she nodded companionably. “You don’t seem the hugging type.”

Christelle rose grudgingly to her feet, once again sticking her Gameboy into her back pocket. “I can make exceptions,” she said, and then awkwardly pulled her in to pat her back, a guyish kinda slap. Brooke resisted the urge to laugh.

“Thanks,” she said sincerely, squeezing her on the shoulder, and threw a look back at Rebecca. The other girl was still twenty feet away, talking animatedly. “I’ll see you. Tell Rebecca thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

Hesitating, Brooke took one last look at Sam’s friends.

With a deep breath in, she turned, and headed for the security line, directed by an airport officer to a queuing line of people removing their shoes. Grabbing a plastic bin, she tossed Stephanie’s jacket into it and reached down, untying her shoelaces.

It was orderly and sane and exactly what she needed.

She was fussing with her belt when she heard a rather shrill screech that sounded like a weird version of her name. Standing up, Brooke offered the man behind her an apologetic smile as she took a step forward, glancing over her shoulder curiously.

She stiffened when she realized Rebecca was sprinting toward her.

“Rebecca-“

Immediately Rebecca plowed into the line, skidding to a stop in front of her.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” said a security officer. “There’s a line-“

Focus solely on Brooke, Rebecca paid no attention. “You’re not getting on this plane!” she snapped, reaching for her wrist. Her eyes looked fairly demonic.

It frightened her. Brooke yanked her hand away. “Yes I am!”

“Rebecca what the hell are you doing?!” Abby snapped jogging up beside her.

“Ma’am, step OUT of the line!” The security officer was clearly moving from annoyed to livid, and Rebecca cast her a panicked glance, before she once again grabbed hold of Brooke’s arm, and with a surprisingly strong grip, yanked her out of her place in line.

“What the hell!?” Brooke snapped, trying to regain her footing and glare at Rebecca at the same time. “Rebecca?!”

“Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t get on the plane!” Rebecca once again reached for her, but Brooke had the good sense to pull back just in time.

“Yes, I am!” Brooke was rapidly losing patience.

“Rebecca, I know you’re jealous of her, but dear GOD get a clue!”

“Oh, FUCK you, Abby!” Rebecca screeched.

They were rapidly causing a scene, and Brooke, through the corner of her eye, saw security headed their way. “Rebecca, I really need you to let me go-“

“Okay, everyone needs to calm down,” Christelle began, trying to pull on Rebecca’s hand.

“You don’t GET IT,” Rebecca snapped, shrugging her off, and grabbing hold of Brooke’s lapel.

Brooke decided very quickly that she was not into Rebecca’s complete descent into insanity. The security guards were drawing weapons and missing her flight because she was stuck in Airport Jail wasn’t an option.

“Rebecca!” she snapped, grabbing hold of Rebecca’s elbow and pushing her away from the crowded line of airport passengers who were all staring. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you from getting on that airplane,” Rebecca answered, but she was rapidly losing her resolve. Face mottled with red, she tugged almost comically on her shirt.

“Why!?”

“Because the crazy girl said not to!”

“Who!?”

And that was when she heard her. Over the bull horn. An unmistakable Southern accent. Screeching.

“THERE SHE IS! BROOKIEEE!”

In disbelief, Brooke whirled. A bleached blonde woman seated beside a uniformed airport worker in a white security cart, careened toward her, with wild eyes and fur flying every which way, like some demented version of the Snow Queen of Narnia.

“Oh, my GOD,” Brooke breathed, frozen in shock. “Is that Mary Cherry?!”

Dropping her shirt, Rebecca crossed her arms, shoulders slumping. “I hate you all,” she muttered. “Just for the record.”

“What the hell is Mary Cherry doing in Chicago?!”

“BROOKE!”

Head jerking back, Brooke’s mouth dropped open when she recognized Harrison John, sprinting towards her, alongside Maria and Stephanie of all people, nearly plowing over a little old lady in their haste to get to her.

What the hell?!

“THERE SHE IS!” Maria looked incredibly dramatic, as she stopped in a flamboyant poise and pointed theatrically at her. “Stop her!”

“What the hell is going on!?” she heard Abby screech.

“What the fuck?” Christelle breathed.

Feeling oddly like a fox being chased down by hounds, Brooke didn’t have it in her to run, as she whirled again, this time to focus on the commotion causing Mary Cherry and her cart from hell. It bore down on her at full speed, and frozen with the image of Mary Cherry, her maniacal grin, and her megaphone, Brooke thought she was going to die.

The cart screeched to a stop just inches from Abby’s foot. Abby yelped, skidding out of the way, grabbing hold of Rebecca and nearly climbing on top of her.

“Brookie!” Mary Cherry’s eyes were eerily wide. Megaphone once again rising to her mouth, she shouted, nearly burst Brooke’s eardrums, “WE FOUND HER. OPERATION CARPET MUNCHER IS COMPLETE!”

“Operation Carpet…Harrison-OOMPH!” Brooke turned, just in time to break Harrison’s winded sprint, as the slender boy nearly ran her over, arms wrapping around her to steady himself, nearly plowing them both into Mary Cherry’s cart. “Harrison? Stephanie – what the hell is going on?!”

Stephanie held up a finger, trying to catch her breath first. “We… at the party… she came… you left… Where’s my jacket?!” Eyes searching the security line, Stephanie noticed the downy jacket still sitting in the conveyor belt, inching for the X-Ray machine and yelped, scrambling for it.

Brooke was too blindsided to pay much attention. “Wait… Harrison? What is she talking about?”

“Oh, MAH GOD ya’ll…” Mary Cherry looked immensely pleased with herself, lowering herself from the cart. “I haven’t had this much fun since I convinced Mama to buy that little African Village for me so I could dress up them little kids!”

Harrison’s fingers gripped her shoulders, brown eyes darkening with concerned. “Are you okay?!” he breathed. “I told you I should have come with you!”

“No, I’m fine!” she said quickly, dismissing his concern with a quick squeeze of his hands. “What’s going on?! How did you get here?!”

He hesitated, and Maria threw herself against his side, a wide smile on her face. “What, you didn’t think I’d let her leave us behind, did you? We’re invested!”

Her?

Nothing was making sense. Heart beating furiously, Brooke couldn’t even bring herself to think that-

“Sam! We found her!”

Oh, God.

It couldn’t…

Jerking toward the sound of the voice, Brooke’s heart jolted, and she felt dizzy, overcome with warring emotions that made her too overwhelmed to comprehend…

There was a very sweaty, very out-of-breath Carmen, hand on her hip, coming to a stop and nearly hyperventilating. “Cramp!” Carmen wheezed. “Cramp!”

And behind her, looking worried and focused and tired and sweaty and absolutely beautiful, was Sam.

Considering her determined, obsessive focus on getting back into the same state as the girl coming toward her, Brooke weakly decided it was completely in line with the events of the past day and a half to discover that she couldn’t move.

What she could do, was stare, drink in the image with a hungry, shameless need, unable to speak for the furious knot of emotion that locked into her throat. She wasn’t breathing, and then suddenly she was, chest rising and falling so fast she realized she was panting.

And still, she couldn’t move. When brown eyes finally caught hers, she felt a burst of emotion inside of her so powerful it nearly brought her to her knees.

“Sam.” It was just a whisper, but it was all she could manage.

Sam saw her, and she broke from her jog when her steps faltered, taking her in, taking it all in. And then suddenly, there came a fierce look of resolve in those deep dark features and she sprinted coming toward her so fast, until she was there, inches away from her.

“Sam…”

There was a moment, a wonderful moment that lasted where she could feast on that face and reassure herself that this was REAL.

And then of course, Sam had to ruin it all by balling up her stupid little fist and pounding it into her shoulder.

“OW!” Her gentle wonder broke into a flood of anger, jerking back to rub at her bruised skin. “What the hell, Sam?! What was that for!?”

A shaking finger was suddenly shoved into her face.

“Where the HELL do you get off LEAVING me when I got off A FRIGGIN PLANE?!” Sam was livid. “I braved a fucking SORORITY party for you and YOU WEREN’T EVEN THERE!” The skinny finger jabbed into her collarbone. “And then I had to have Mary Cherry FLY her ass down to pick me up to FLY us to Chicago and then when we finally get here REBECCA tells me you’re getting ready to get your ass ON ANOTHER PLANE! What the HELL is wrong with you?! Do you realize what I went through?!”

She blinked the words refusing to make sense, and then when they did, her eyes widened and her mouth opened.

“What you went through?! Do you have an idea what I went through!? Listen, Sam – do you think spending all morning in the company of your ex- not that she’s not nice-“

“Brooke!”

“What?!”

Sam’s eyes glittered, as stepped forward and palmed the sides of her face. “Shut up.” Before Brooke could form another word, strong hands wrapped around her neck and pulled, and then a hot mouth was moving hungrily against her lips: a possessive, passionate, desperate kiss.

The polarity was too much. Her mind was splintered. She was lost and completely out of her element, and for a moment, she felt nothing but shock.

But Sam’s lips were intimately exploring her own and that lithe body pressed against her, and just like that, when she moaned, Brooke was lost completely. Her eyes immediately fluttered closed, and after taking a ragged breath, she slid open palms over strong shoulders and over Sam’s lithe figure, bringing her in tighter to sweep her tongue over a succulent bottom lip.

She heard a whimper, buried into her mouth. It broke her. Sucking in a sob soaked breath, she tightened her embrace, unwilling to relinquish any space.

“What are you doing here?!” she whispered against soft lips, pulling back slightly as she opened her eyes.

Sam had tears in her eyes. “Why were you leaving!?” she responded, almost hysterically, hands grasping hold of Brooke’s shirt, clawing them in bunches in her fists. “I feel like I’ve been chasing you forever!”

“I was coming home,” Brooke answered, heart full with overwhelming sincerity, hooking her arms together behind Sam’s back, forehead tilting against hers. “I’ll always come home to you, Sammy.”

She saw a beautiful expression on a beautiful face, and there was no fear. There was nothing but acceptance and finally, FINALLY, belief.

Fingers reached up, and knuckles skimmed against her cheek lovingly. “What the hell am I going to do with you?” Sam whispered gruffly.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, her voice a little high pitched, shrieky. “I’m so messed up, Sammy.”

“I know.”

“I’m gonna keep screwing up.”

“I know.”

“But I’m going to try not to,” she promised, suddenly scared again. “Because I love you.”

And Sammy just smiled, and her thumb pressed against her mouth. “I know,” she whispered. “I am so in love with you.”

In the end, for all the complications, it was that easy.

-- .

CHAPTERS