Title: Secrets
Summary: Why are there so many secrets? Sam/Jess
Authors Note: No beta, all mistakes are my own. My very first and probably last Sam and Jess story, hope someone likes it because I'm sick of looking at it. Just joshing...kinda.
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It had been three weeks now, well, three weeks, two days and roughly 7 hours, but who's counting? Not her, nope, this had been her doing after all.
It had all started after a party, Jess loved to dance and mingle and Sam, well, not so much. He tolerated it for her, but he didn't do great in large groups, his idea of a good time was sitting down with a good book and getting to know every little detail about Jess's life.
That's what bugged her, not that she really minded him knowing or asking, but he know just about everything there was to know about her. Even the things she wasn't particularly proud of, like that she was practically a chain smoker before she met him, her younger sister got a DUI recently and she wasn't even old enough to drink, her older sister was better than her at everything and she was pretty sure she suffered from severe middle child 'Jan Brady' syndrome.
He knew all of it and she knew nothing about him, besides his brother's name, she wasn't even 100% sure if he was older or younger than Sam, and that his mother pasted away when he was young.
Where did he grow up? What did his dad do for a living? Hell, where was his dad? What did he like to do when he was younger? Why didn't he like to talk about his family or to his family for that matter? Why did he know so many weird mythology facts?
Why were there so many secrets? She was so sick of secrets! That and she was pretty drunk.
He was just sitting there, like a bump on a log nursing a beer, alone, in the quietest corner he could find. That's what he always did, at house parties, clubs, and bars. He'd probably have that same beer all night, letting it get warm and who the hell like to drink warm beer?
Finally she just snapped. She vaguely remembered yelling about him never wanting to have any fun, and secrets and how he could keep them. Oh, and there was definitely some profanity in there somewhere on her part and then she throw whatever alcoholic beverage she had directly in his face. It was probably a tequila sunrise, that was her favorite.
Sam was silent through out, he wiped the alcohol off his face and took her home, tossed her over his shoulder to get her up the apartment stairs and straight to the bathroom, held her hair back when she got sick and then settled her in bed, with a trashcan within reach, and threw the dirty clothes in the tub to soak. In the morning, when she finally drug herself out of bed, he was gone, just gone, along with all his meager belongings.
On the tiny dining room table was her favorite hangover breakfast-a banana nut muffin and a latte from her favorite coffee cart all the way on the other end of the campus-and a note under the cup, in Sam's messy handwriting, that read:
I'm sorry-S
She cried, full blown ugly, snot-filled sobs, missed class for two days to hung out her good pals Ben 'n Jerry, gained at least five pounds and didn't brush her hair, shower, or use deodorant.
She missed him.
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Three weeks and two days here she was. The day she was forced to brave the on-campus book store-damn her Psychology professor-she was barely presentable, her hair was all over the place, she grabbed the first thing she came to in her closet-multicolored sweatshirt that her grandmother knit her...'nough said. Some really holey jeans, not the cute kind of holey either, the 'I'm pretty sure you can see my granny panties' kind of holey.
“Jess!” A voice called from behind her, she tried to pretend she didn't hear it, kept her head down. A hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. “Jess.”
“Oh, hey Becka, what are you doing here?”
“Picking up some books. Are you okay? You don't look so good.”
“I'm fine, I just...”
“Zach said you missed a couple classes, I tried to call.”
“Oh well, my phones been...” She waved here hand around noncommittally.
“Is it Sam? I haven't seen him around much either, I wanted to invite you guys to Zach's surprise party, Brady's been helping me, it's gonna be great! It's next Friday, starts at nine o'clock.”
“I don't think-” Jess was interrupted by Becka's phone ringing.
“Hold on.” Becka talked for a bit and Jess tried to sneak away, but Becka kept a hold on her arm. “That was Brady, he wants to meet for lunch and hammer out some details for the party. Come with!”
“Oh, I can't I-”
“Jess, come on! I haven't seen you in weeks!” Becka whined.
“I have a ton of homework, I should really-”
“It'll only take an hours tops. Come on, Brady will be so happy to see you!”
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Jess and Becka sat on the porch of a cute little restaurant waiting for Brady. She opted for a table outside where she could wear her sunglasses and hopeful avoid any other unwanted encounters.
“Can I get you ladies something to drink?” A young waitress asked.
“Margarita, please.” Becka said digging through her purse for her ID.
“And you Miss?” The waitress turned to Jess.
“Uh, just a diet coke.” She was sworn off alcohol for life.
“What? They make the best margaritas!”
“Not in the mood.”
“Oh, no this must be serious! Should I call a doctor?”
“Haha, very funny.”
Becka looked over Jess's shoulder and waved. “Over here!”
“Guys? Who else is-”
Becka was already out of her seat hugging a tall shaggy haired figure that Jess would recognize anywhere. She sunk down in her chair, knowing it was too late to make a run for it.
“Sam! I didn't know you were coming!” Becka said gleefully. “Pull up a chair.”
Sam was obviously just as surprised as Jess about the whole thing, but his eyes lite up a little when he noticed her, he gave an awkward wave and a soft smile.
She was staring at him, open mouth, damn he looked good! He was wearing a hoodie even though it was way too hot for one, Sam and his layers. He must have thought so also because he unzipped it revealing a faded red t-shirt, she loved that shirt on him, the red really made his blue eyes pop. He had a long sleeve black shirt on under, because god forbid he ever showed off his muscular arms in public, but when they were alone in the apartment she made him wear it so she could admire him while he sat on the couch and with a book.
That was the only time he didn't wear long sleeves, she thought it might be because of the scars on his arms and just about everywhere else really, she didn't know where he got them from. Another one of his secrets, she wasn't mad about it though, not anymore.
His hair was a little longer than he usually kept it, probably because she hadn't been around to remind him to get it cut, shaggy and messy which she thought was pretty hot. She didn't clamp her mouth shut and stop staring until Brady spoke.
“Here, man, sit down next to your girl.” Brady motioned to a chair next to Jess as he grabbed one from another table.
Sam looked unsure as he sat down. “This okay?” He asked timidly, just loud enough for Jess to hear. She nodded. “You look great.”
Jess glanced down at the top, it really did look like a rainbow threw up on it, but he sounded so sincere, he always did when he gave her compliments. He shouldn't be so nice to her, she'd been awful to him and he was being just as sweet as ever.
“Jess, honey? What is with that sweater?” Becka asked teasingly.
“My grandma knit it for me.” Jess replies in a bit of a daze.
“What'd you do to piss her off?” Brady asked.
“It's nice.” Sam said shyly.
She was pretty sure she just continued to stare at him until Becka finally elbowed her.
“Huh?”
“You okay?”
“What? Yeah, I'm fine.”
“I heard you two had a little tiff at Jimmy Norton's party a couple weeks back. Still rocky?”
“Brady!” Becka cried smacking his arm. Leave it to Brady to bring up the most inappropriate thing ever at the worst possible time.
Sam kept his head down and looked down nervously at his lap, fiddling with the thin leather bracelet on his wrist, she didn't know where he got that bracelet or who gave it to him, but he always wore it.
“Ouch, women! I was just asking.” Brady rubbed his arm, both he and Becka looked at her curiously.
“I, uh,” She started.
“I heard you blew a fuse!” Brady nudged Sam's arm. “What's the matter buddy? Forgot to take out the trash? Left the toilet seat up? Issues below the belt...?”
Sam scratched the back of his head nervously, too much of a gentleman to say that Jess had just lost it. “I was really drunk, I didn't mean it.” She said to answer Brady's question, but was looking at Sam.
Becka cleared her throat. “Maybe Brady and I will just head over to the bakery and order that cake.” She stood kicking Brady's chair.
“Ah, man it was just getting good!”
“Brady!”
Sam watched as the pair left.
“I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.” Jess said. “I was being stupid. I've missed you so much.”
“I've missed you too. A lot.”
“You'll come home?”
“God yes! I've missed home almost as much as I missed you.”
Jess laughed. “Where have you been staying.”
“An old family friend needed help a couple counties over.”
“With what?”
“Nothing important.” More secrets. He pushed his hair out of his eyes revealing a bruise and neat row of stitched at his hair line.
Jess gasped. “What happened?”
“It's nothing.” He said with a dismissive wave.
She pouted, but she wasn't going to get angry.
Sam sighed softly. “For what its worth, I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“The way I am.”
She smiled a little sadly and nodded, before kissing his cheek. “I love you.”
She could deal with secrets.
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No beta, all mistakes are my own. My very first and probably last Sam and Jess story, hope someone likes it, because I'm sick of looking at it. Just joshing...kinda.
I wrote this probably over a year ago now, never got around to posting it until now. This was actually inspired by a song, which I've been racking my brain trying to remember and for the life of me I can't.
No major hurt Sam, sorry I am ashamed. Also I still can't seem to write anything except pre-series (or complete sap)... I'm working on it. Really.
Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!
Take care,
Fynn
Edit-Oh! Found the song: Jana Kramer-Why You Gotta.
Summary: Why are there so many secrets? Sam/Jess