Page 53 of The Backtrack
“Don’t worry. My boyfriend’s a nurse. He’ll help.” Alt-Sam wrapped her hand behind Damon’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. They were in love. They loved each other.
Sam had never been in love before, but in this version of her life, she was. Was being in love worth more than what she had in the real world? As their lips were about to meet, Sam blinked and found herself back in her room.
What she’d just seen were two people going through difficult times, but getting through them together. It wasn’t the happiest she’d ever seen them, but they were dealing with real-life issues. And they had each other. That was what couples did, she supposed.
Sam went to her desk, opened her notebook and wrote down the new track in the playlist.
SAM AND DAMON’S MAGICAL PLAYLIST
Track One: “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence. Otherworldly song about being understood by another human. Tybee High parking lot. Questionable amounts of eyeliner. Alt-Sam kisses Damon. Missing earring is found.
Track Two: “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” by The Darkness. A bop about being head over heels for someone. Alt-Sam and Damon are officially dating. Myles continues to disappoint. Marissa didn’t have an awkward phase in high school. JanSport backpacks are timeless.
Track Three: “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse. Inarguably the best song and movie scene pairing ever. Damon and Alt-Sam make out duringTwilightand get kicked out. One too many hickies.
Track Four: “Want You Bad” by The Offspring. A banger about a bad boy wanting to corrupt a good girl. Myles gets owned by Alt-Sam. Damon skips detention. Alt-Sam skips her extracurricular. I miss Dunkaroos.
Track Five: “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy. A song about a guy meeting someone he likes at a school dance, and the angst of trying to desperately impress them. Damon tries to impress Alt-Sam and they get into A GODDAMN CAR CRASH. Soffe shorts. Condoms from Pearl. Looks like I never get to go to prom.
Track Six: “Fell In Love With a Girl” by The White Stripes. Can I ever hear this song again and not think about Alt-Sam and Damon sneaking around (??) and probably having sex (??). Alt-Sam’s vision problems continue AND she’s getting a C on an essay?
Track Seven: “Read My Mind” by The Killers, which is all about uncertainty. Makes sense, since in Alt-Sam’s high school graduation, I’m not valedictorian and waiting on a surgery to get into flight school.
Track Eight: “Over My Head” by The Fray. Written about a fight, where one person was totally out of their depth. Alt-Sam is pregnant and moving in with Damon. Maybe they’re not ready to be parents?
Track Nine: “Maps” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Damon’s starting nursing school and not a brewery. Wanting someone to stay is the theme of the song, and maybe Damon wants Alt-Sam to know he’ll stay by her side and through the miscarriage?
Sam absentmindedly doodled in the notebook as she waded through the songs. Damon had been a rock for Sam when her mom left, and he was being a rock for Alt-Sam through miscarriage and life-changing surgery. If anything, all signs pointed to the fact that Damon wastheguy no matter what happened.
And maybe that realization should’ve comforted her, but all she felt was unsettled by what she’d seen.
22
There was always a calm before the storm. The calm was when the waves slowed to a lapping, the breeze dulled and the sky cleared of all clouds. If you didn’t know that somewhere in the ocean violence was brewing, it would be a perfect beach day. But there was also a kind of eeriness to the lull. Because the animals around Tybee sensed the shift more than the people themselves. Even the caw of the gulls became muffled, almost like they were preemptively going into hiding.
While hurricanes occasionally happened in Tybee, they usually turned long before it was ever a concern for Grandma Pearl. But this one—Tropical Storm Courtney, which had just been upgraded to Hurricane Courtney—appeared to be heading straight for them.
“It’ll turn,” Pearl chided as Sam took the planks of plywood out from the storage space in the garage. The wood was specifically cut and fitted to be pressed against each window and nailed tightly to the frame to prevent strong winds from knocking something through the glass.
“Maybe the storm will pass,” Sam agreed. “But if it doesn’t, we’ll have the hurricane panels up just in case.”
On top of being necessary, the storm prep was also providing a welcome excuse to avoid the CD player. The thought of seeing another vision wasn’t as appealing after the last one.
“Aren’t those a little heavy?” Pearl waved her cast in the general direction of the planks Sam had carefully brought out and stacked neatly in the driveway.
“You and Mom used to carry them, didn’t you?” Sam huffed as she lugged a panel out. The panelswereheavy, but who else was there to handle them? Each panel was the same height as her, maybe a touch taller. She was just barely able to grip each side, and the stretch of it already had her arms aching. She didn’t hesitate to put the plank down on top of the pile.
“We did,” Pearl conceded. “But there were two of us, and your mom and I are short, so our centers of gravity are closer to the ground. You, on the other hand...”
Sam placed her hands defiantly on her hips but, as she did, a rather loud and fat bumblebee flew in front of her face. She squealed and frantically waved her hands to swat it away, tripping over the pile of wood in the process.
“Mmm-hmm,” Pearl said. “Exactly.”
Sam frowned as Pearl turned on her heel and walked back inside. Pearl wasn’t wrong—this was a two-person job, but Sam only had herself. So she would just have to do.
What she couldn’t help but wonder, though, was why whoever built this house decided that a huge bay window would be appropriate? Couldn’t it be one of those homes with several small windows versus one big one? Because the massive one required an equally huge piece of wood that was both taller and substantially wider than Sam. She managed to nail up one corner but got splinters in both of her hands. So she had to use pot holders to hoist up the other side; gloves were apparently not something the Leto women owned.
When she’d finished the bay window, Sam decided to lie in the overgrown blades of grass and close her eyes. The stagnant air and the heat from the unobstructed sun made her drowsy. She could nap. That way, when the hurricanedidcome, she’d die in her sleep. She let her body go limp, wove her fingers into the grass and took luxuriously long and deep breaths. This was how people who did hot yoga must feel; so physically depleted that they mistook delirium for euphoria. Because Sam was, at least for the moment, unencumbered.
