Page 18 of The Backtrack
Why was sheherein this moment? She glanced around and, as if timed, Alt-Sam—Teen Sam—walked out of a classroom about a head taller than most of the students. Her hair was in a ponytail with two thick strands pulled out, framing her face, classic aughts style. A pair of headphones covered her ears, and her furrowed brows made her look less than friendly.
Alt-Sam came to the locker directly next to Sam and deftly input her code. The music playing through Alt-Sam’s headphones was the exact same song from The Darkness. Sam moved out of the way right before Alt-Sam accidentally flung the locker door open and whacked her in the face. Taped up to the wall of her locker was aTwilightbook cover surrounded by glow-in-the-dark vampire fangs.
Alt-Sam opened her backpack, took out a heavy textbook—chemistry, woof—and swapped it with another one. She also grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper that rested on top of her books and slammed the door shut.
“Geez, let’s take it easy now,” Sam jokingly said, but of course wasn’t heard. Something flashed across Alt-Sam’s face as she opened the notebook in her hands, dark and dreary, like a cloud settling. Sam glanced at the page and saw the angry scribbles she’d doodled.
Those doodles were as familiar to her as a first language. Sam was a straight-A student, but once her mom left she’d also found it hard to concentrate. Almost like the teacher’s voice sounded under water instead of right in front of her. And the only real thing that kept her focused was the doodling—her control issues needed an outlet, after all.
Damon came next to Alt-Sam, a backpack slung over his gray hoodie, and his bare chest visible under a blue-and-black-striped tee. His hair was gelled, except for his straightened bangs. He was all emo punk perfection.
“Hey.” Damon’s voice cracked, not from pubescent growth but, it seemed, from nerves. He gave a shy grin as Alt-Sam pulled her headphones off. Her whole face lit up.
Well, well, well. Their make-out session must have been better than good to elicit that kind of a smile.
Damon reached for Alt-Sam’s hand, but she pulled away.
“Oh, sorry.” Her teen self scratched at a spot on her forehead. “You think I’d be used to that by now.”
“Is it okay though?” Damon cautiously reextended his hand and Alt-Sam glanced at it.
“Yeah...” She trailed off, maybe hesitant, but laced her hand into his just the same.
“Woah, look, the freaks are mating!” A guy in a soccer uniform hooted as he pointed at them.
Alt-Sam tried to pull her hand back, but Damon held on tighter.
“Show us your fangs!” the jock called out pointedly to Alt-Sam.
Sam’s jaw dropped as she realized the jock was Myles. Her tongue traced a line across her teeth. She had perfectly average canines, but the dig was most certainly about theTwilightobsession. “For the record, there’s nothing wrong with being a freak. In twenty years, thatfreakwill own his own bar, and the other freakishly tall one will be a top international pilot. One of a handful in the country. And you’ll still belaaaaame. Am I right?” Sam held her hand up for a high five, but none came.
She high-fived herself.
The jock was tugged down the hallway by a teammate, but still managed to laugh as he walked off.
“Yeah, that’s right! Keep walking!” Sam shouted.
“It’s always been us versus them.” Damon leaned in close to Alt-Sam. “Ya know, youcouldbe my girlfriend now.”
“Girlfriend?” both Sams said at the same time.
Damon flicked the thick bangs out of his eyes, and Alt-Sam’s lashes fluttered as she stretched up toward him. They kissed. Nothing extravagant, but even Sam could feel the pull they had on each other.
“You look good as a couple, I have to admit.” Sam held up her hands in surrender. “Aside from the straightened bangs, Damon, I’m happy for you both.”
Damon and Alt-Sam pulled apart but stayed locked on each other. Hell, maybe having Damon as her boyfriend would’ve made high school slightly more tolerable. Sure, she’d hated Tybee High and practically fled after getting her diploma, but maybe Alt-Sam could make it through each day without wanting to pull her arm hairs out one by one.
Damon gave Alt-Sam a sweet kiss on the forehead as the warning bell sounded for them to get to their next class. He walked off, and Alt-Sam watched him move away through the crowd. A hopeful smile played on her lips, so different from the somber expression she’d had minutes earlier.
“Don’t let Myles get to you,” a small girl in a cheerleading uniform said to Alt-Sam. “Hold on to that one.”
The girl looked familiar—gorgeous dark hair, thick lashes, petite and peppy...
Marissa.
As soon as the thought came, everything around Sam went black. There was another fast and unexpectedwhooshas she fell forward and away from the high school hallway. She blinked in the faint glow of her purple lava lamp and realized that the vision had ended. She was back on her bedroom floor, just where she’d left off.
She eyed the CD player in her hands. No matter how much she tried to calm herself down, her breaths came out like she’d run a marathon. She carefully placed the player on the floor, tucked her knees into her chest and stared at it.
