Page 64 of The Backtrack
Alt-Sam came around the counter, unlocked the door and Damon greeted her with a kiss.
“Did you get off your shift early?” Alt-Sam asked.
“I’m going to work a double next week so I can take tonight off.” Damon’s hands went to her hips and he pulled her in tight to him. “Tomorrow’s your big surgery. I want to be with you.”
“Sure.” Alt-Sam glanced back to Myles, who looked away and started to sweep up the sprinkles on the floor. “I just have to close.”
Myles straightened and gave a casual glance their way, and Damon clocked him, too.
“Hey, Sam’s boyfriend,” Myles said, maybe a little cocky.
“Damon,” Damon said.
“Right.” Myles didn’t look at Damon, though. His eyes were on Alt-Sam. “How about I close tonight? You can rest up before the surgery.”
“You sure?” Alt-Sam asked. “It’ll just be another ten minutes or so.”
“Go. I’ve gotta finish this whipped cream anyways.” Myles took the can as if to prove his point and sprayed some into his mouth. “Sure you don’t want me to feed you some?”
Oh, Sam thought as she looked between Myles and where Alt-Sam and Damon stood.
“She’s okay, man.” Damon grabbed for Alt-Sam’s hand, and she let him take it. There was some kind of intense male energy—like two dogs eyeing the same bone—but Sam didn’t love the idea that Alt-Sam was the bone. And besides, it wasn’t like Damon had anything to worry about. Her alternate self would never go for this meathead when she had a filet at home.
Still, Myles stared at her, and Damon most definitely clocked that as his grip on Alt-Sam tightened. The whole thing was, honestly, too much, and Sam was relieved to hear the last sounds of the guitar and cymbals from the song playing from her headphones as she was yanked out of the memory.
27
“Ugh.” Sam slid her headphones off.
And while her own music had turned off, Pearl and Jessie scream-sang the words to “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac from the living room. The iconic song about losing the love of your life felt a little too on the nose to Sam and Damon’s situation, to be honest. She held a hand to her forehead. Maybe it was the hurricane punch, or the lack of any kind of proper pitch to the women’s voices, but the noise was unpleasant.
Was Bonnie singing along with them? Dancing on the couch like nothing had changed? Casting a spell over Pearl to make her believe that all was well and she didn’t have to hold any kind of grudge?
A loud crack sounded outside the window, like a branch falling from a tree. The singing in the living room stopped and Pearl called out, “You okay, Sam?”
“Yeah, probably just a palm frond.” Sam’s eyes darted to the window, wishing she could catch a look outside. They’d find out in the morning where the branch had fallen, and if there was any damage.
“I’ll go check on her,” Bonnie said.
Sam was about to repeat that she was fine, but Pearl chimed in. “Leave her be. She needs her space.”
“She’s had nearly twenty years of space, Mama,” Bonnie replied.
“Whose fault is that?” Pearl’s tone was firm now.
“Partially yours,” Bonnie fired back. “Do you want me to remind you of the conversation we had?”
“Letos, please.” Jessie tried to be the mediator.
And this was how it always was. Pearl and Bonnie fighting over Sam. Nothing had changed.
Sam blinked hard. She didn’t want to be part of this fight as a teenager, let alone now as an adult. Hearing her mom and grandma bicker triggered some kind of ancient response, and Sam pulled her knees into her chest. This was why she’d moved so far away from home, so she’d never have to think about being in this room and hearing the chaos outside it.
Her gaze landed on the CD player. Her old friend. Her creature comfort. The energy of the last vision must have been some kind of blip; watching Damon and Myles in a tug-of-war over her was not all that fun. She needed a palate cleanser before bed. She’d listen to another song and by the time it was over, maybe the fight outside her room would be, too. And maybe the next thing she saw would be Alt-Sam in flight school...
She shook out her shoulders and readjusted the headphones. She was ready to hear the next song that would show her the future she could’ve had. So she reached for the play button and hit it.
When Avril Lavigne’s “My Happy Ending” started, Sam flinched. The song was about the opposite of a happy ending—more like the end to a relationship that was supposed to be perfect. What was she about to be tossed into?
