Page 66 of The Backtrack
Alt-Sam stopped in a small archway, away from the crowd of people and private enough for the two of them to tuck into.
Sam blew out a big breath that rattled her lips. There was a lot to delve into, but she didn’t have the context. She felt like she was trying to navigate a flight without a map. “Maybe just kiss and make up? Isn’t that what couples do?” she offered. But, she had no experience being part of a couple, so what the hell did she know?
Alt-Sam scratched at a spot on her forehead, then shook out her hands. “I’m going to be honest, okay?”
“Okay,” Damon said as he leaned against the wall.
Eventually, she said, “I feel...stuck.”
“Stuck?” Damon asked.
Alt-Sam sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about this here. Can we just go home?”
“Is this about the surgery?” Damon instinctively wrapped her in a hug. “The doctor said she could try again, in time.” Alt-Sam eventually hugged him back, but her eyes looked off, lost in thought.
Oh, God.The surgery hadn’t worked?
“Statistically, if it didn’t work the first time, it won’t work the next time, either.” Alt-Sam pulled back from Damon, then hunched into herself, as if self-conscious about saying the words out loud. “I was supposed to be in flight school by now. I mean, what am I even doing? I’m working at an ice cream shop. I can’t afford to go to school. Like...am I just supposed to be serving people sundaes for the rest of my life?”
“This is all my fault,” Damon said. “If I hadn’t gotten us into that accident...”
Alt-Sam shook her head and wiped a tear that rolled down her cheek. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m just sad.”
“My sister said you could bartend here, remember?” Damon rubbed a spot on her arm, but Alt-Sam’s eyes fluttered in irritation.
“Okay, so instead of ice cream it’s somehow better if I’m serving beer? That’s not what I want, Damon.”
Alt-Sam pushed out of the corner and made for the front door. Damon was, once again, chasing after her.
“Well, whatdoyou want?” he asked as they left the bar and poured out onto the sidewalk. It was dark and an overhead light shone on them like they were in an interrogation room. A Jeep drove by and “My Happy Ending” blared from the speakers at an annoyingly loud volume.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Alt-Sam said, her voice so low and sad it was almost hard to hear her.
Damon pulled back and studied her. “Can’t do...”
Alt-Sam’s face shifted into a kind of pained grimace. She seemed to weigh her words carefully, but eventually said, “I can’t be here. I feel like I’m disappearing. It’s like what happened to my mom.”
Damon frowned.
“I love you, Damon, but I can’t keep acting like everything is okay. I’m not okay. Something is very wrong. I’m broken. I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone who will be happy here.”
Even in the dark, Alt-Sam’s eyes clearly glistened with the threat of tears.
“But we love each other.” His voice was so tender, and the statement so pure, that Sam’s breath caught.
“I know. I know that.” Alt-Sam rubbed her temple.
“We’ll figure this out.” Damon’s fingers wove through Alt-Sam’s loose strands of hair, and she pressed her cheek into his palm. “And you’re not broken, but you’ve been through a lot. Can you go to therapy, like you promised?”
Sam’s chest was so heavy with confusion that it was almost as if she was sinking into the ground. Only, she did slip into the nothingness as she was sucked out of the vision to Avril Lavigne’s resigned words ringing through the headphones.
Sam’s eyes flew open and she was surrounded by the duvet, and the darkness of the room and the light coming from the flashlight at her side.
There was a strikingly loud boom of thunder and Sam jumped. Even through the headphones, she heard the whip of wind slam against the side of her grandma’s house. The whole place shook from the next crack of thunder. She’d been through worse hurricanes, but it’d been so long that the sensations and sounds all felt new. She tucked her legs into her chest and let out a deep breath.
What the hell had she just seen with Damon and Alt-Sam? Her younger self was trying to end their relationship, but that didn’t make sense. Why would she be shown something like that? How was the vision any better than where she and Damon were now?
Unless it was just a bump in their road together. There were thirteen total songs on the CD, which meant there were only two more left. She wouldn’t know how Alt-Sam and Damon turned things around unless she listened to the next song. She opened her notebook, took her pen and wrote down the new tracks.
