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When something pink flies out of Deena’s locker on Valentine’s Day, Kate immediately teases.
“She made you a V-Day’s card? That is adorable .”
“Shut up,” Deena replies, picking up the piece of paper from the floor and unfolding it carefully. On the front, Sam’s elegant calligraphy reads out Happy Valentine’s Day Deena with lots of hearts drawn around it – and on the inside, a brief sweet note tells her to meet Sam after third period in their usual spot, next to the old science lab.
Kate tries to take a peek and Deena shoves the card in the pocket of her jacket, blushing ever so slightly.
“Don’t you have a calculus test?” she says only mildly annoyed, raising an eyebrow at her nosy friend. Kate rolls her eyes and takes her by the arm, “I think you mean: don’t we have a calculus test? C’mon lady killer, let’s go before Mrs. Parker actually kills us.”
After the bell has rung and Deena is sure she has probably failed (her head too full of Sam to be concentrating on stupid numbers and letters), Kate tells her she is meeting Simon for some candy selling. “Enjoy your Valentine’s Day, and say hi to Sam from me.”
Deena makes a face at her as she lets her paper drop onto the pile on her teacher’s desk and heads out of the class with her headphones on. The mixtape she has made for Sam plays in her ears faintly as she walks to her English class.
can you hear me calling out your name?
you know that I’m falling and I don’t know what to say
Her lips twitch upwards when she thinks about the last few months, ever since that kiss in November under the frozen bleachers that had changed everything between them: their endless drives in Deena’s car, the never ending make out sessions in her bed instead of doing homework, sneaking up into Sam’s room through the old tree that branches right into her window.
And again, running off in Sunnyvale between football matches to giggle in the shade of the empty parking lot, holding hands in the darkness of the cinema, planting soft kisses on Sam’s skin in the morning whenever she manages to sleep over.
Not that Deena would ever admit it out loud, especially to her friends, but she has fallen hard, and even though she should feel terrified, whenever she’s with Sam she feels like she could take on the world for her.
Starting with her control freak of a mother and her blatant homophobia, part of the reason why Sam likes to keep their relationship very private.
But that is Sam’s own battle and she’s fully aware of it.
She just wishes they could hold hands in the hallway like all the other kids do, especially on a day like this.
Deena is starting to give up hope when they start analyzing yet another passage of Pride and Prejudice. She’s been drumming her fingers to the beat of the seconds ticking on the old clock hanging right in front of her for the entire class, but the guy sitting next to her doesn’t seem to mind, probably too high on whatever Kate sold him to care.
After what seems like an infinity to Deena, their teacher dismisses them, returning to his desk with his creepy mustaches hiding his tired high school teacher expression.
She catches a glimpse of some guy making a big statement in the hallway with a bunch of roses and a girl jumping in his arms and smiles bitterly, thinking about how much she wants to be able to do that with Sam someday.
“There you are.”
A familiar voice distracts her from her thoughts and Deena smiles when she sees her girlfriend with her hair tied up in a half ponytail and wearing a soft white cardigan, clutching a chemistry book to her chest. “I was starting to worry, I thought something happened to my note.”
Deena would like nothing more than to kiss Sam, right there, right now, but she just shrugs with a smug smirk and takes a step forward to close the small distance between them.
She leans into Sam’s ear, “I got it, don’t worry.”
When she pulls back, Sam’s already taken her hand to lead her into the empty science lab, slamming the door behind them with a thud and turning the knob until she hears its click. They’ve done this a thousand times: hidden in the comfort of these four old walls, whispering things for no one else to hear except the skeleton wearing scrubs in the corner of the room.
Once inside, Sam immediately pulls Deena by the collar of her shirt, connecting their lips with an almost comic urgency: their teeth clash and Deena laughs, letting her hands find Sam’s hips to guide her towards the wall. When they crash into it, Sam lets out a feeble “ow!” and Deena apologizes.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she murmurs, alternating between words and kissing Sam’s neck, “I think I failed my calculus test.”
Her girlfriend pushes her back a little and looks at her with those concerned baby blue eyes Deena could get lost in. She looks puzzled, “Don’t you have like a D in that class? I thought you said you needed to pass this test to –mphf!”
Her weak protest about Deena’s school performance gets swallowed by their lips locking again. She’ll worry about her grades later, now all she wants to do is feel every inch of Sam.
It’s in these moments, when they’re gasping for air, hands wandering everywhere, that Deena feels the need to go a little further – press their bodies a little closer, and take Sam all to herself in a way that only thinking about it, makes her head spin. As if Sam could read her mind, she parts her legs just enough for Deena to settle her knee in between them, and the sound that comes out of her girlfriend’s mouth makes her heart beat too fast in her chest.
Sam bites her lip hard and tries to say something, but fails – stopped by Deena’s lips tracing her jawline. “No hickeys,” she pleads with a shaky breath. Deena pulls back for a second with a frustrated look and Sam cups her cheek, tilting her head slightly to the side.
She stares at her with messy hair and pleading eyes Deena can never say no to, “You know mom would ground me again.”
It’s true, Mrs. Fraser can spot hickeys from miles away, even when Deena tries to hide them in the weirdest places. Sam makes their noses brush together, “And I’d really like to hang out tonight.”
Right. Their plans for the night are supposed to be a stop at the local cinema, a milkshake at the mall, and a make out session in Deena’s car next to the abandoned gas station. Yet it looks like there’s something on the tip of Sam’s tongue she doesn’t want to say.
Deena makes a joke about the shitty rom-com movie they’ll surely be playing and Sam hooks her fingers around the belt loops of her jeans, pulling her closer again. “About that,” she says fiddling with the fabric, “Freshmen are away this week on a school trip, right?”
That is correct: her brother just left this morning on a bus to go somewhere near Indianapolis for the annual Freshmen school trip. Deena remembers her own like it was yesterday– Kate, Simon, and Sam had all snuck into her room to tell ghost stories and drink everything that was in the minibar all night through. Sam had fallen asleep on her chest, her arm quietly wrapped around Deena.
She raises one eyebrow, “What does that have to do with tonight?”
“Isn’t your dad working too?”
Deena senses some hesitation in Sam’s voice. It takes her about three seconds to understand what she’s implying.
“Oh. Oh .”
Sam’s cheeks suddenly flush, “I just think it would be more – quiet. If we could stay at your place.”
Neither of them is saying it, but Sam’s suggestion has clearly put a whole other spin on their night: no parents, no brother, just the two of them and Deena’s bed. In the shade of the science lab, Deena suddenly feels nervous, but before she can say anything about it, Sam starts fixing her hair and picks up her school bag. “Well I better go, I promised Jenna I would help her set up the kissing booth for the fundraiser tonight.”
She leans in to steal a last quick peck from Deena and smiles, “See you at seven?”
“Sure,” Deena replies, still not totally convinced by her girlfriend’s change of plans. Once the door closes, she hops on a desk and lets her legs dangle off it. She toys with the pager in her hand before calling in a 911.
“Losing your v-card on Valentine’s Day is such a cliché,” Kate says munching on some fries. They’re waiting for Simon to get off work, sitting on the hood of Deena’s car. The 911 she dialed earlier has immediately turned into an endless teasing from both her friends.
“Okay, you just assumed that, I only told you Sam is coming over,” Deena retorts, suddenly longing for a cigarette like she hasn’t in a long time. She quit smoking for Sam, but sometimes when she spots a pack her dad has left unattended next to some empty beer cans, she’ll sneak on the front porch and exhale clouds of smoke – feeling the weight of Shadyside disappear little by little from her shoulders.
Kate makes a sound in between a snort and a laugh. “Babe, Sam coming over equals sexy times. What’s not clicking?”
Fuck Kate and her stupid logic. Deena really needs that cigarette.
“Hello ladies!” Simon all of a sudden chirps appearing from the back door in a grey shirt and ripped jeans. He walks to the car with a bag in his hand and lays it on the hood where Kate and Deena are sitting with a proud smirk. “What is this shit?” Kate says dipping a hand inside and taking out a candle that smells like tangerine.
Simon throws his hands midair, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Candles.” He turns to Deena and winks, “On the house. For your special night.”
“You motherfucker –”
“Ow! Is this how you repay me for my kindness?”
Deena slides off the hood and lands on the concrete with her doc martens. “Get in the car, idiots.” Simon heads for the backseat, still taking the bag of candles with him while Kate settles in the front, pushing in a tape from Deena’s precious collection. They drive with the music blasting and Simon telling them about his shitty day until they have to drop him off at the edge of town.
He pats the hood of the car and leans down to look at the two girls. “Thanks for the ride. And let me know how it goes.” Before Deena can get out and throw him the bag he left behind, Kate looks at her with her best can-we-go-now face and Deena huffs, turning the key and stepping on the gas.
She drops off Kate at 6:15.
“Don’t stress it,” she says with her perfect ponytail swinging from one side to the other, “Maybe you’ll just watch a movie and eat pizza. Anyway, call me if anything happens.”
Deena mutters a “Sure,” before driving away, the faint echo of Kate’s “Goodnight, lover girl!” following her to her house. When she pulls up in the driveway her heart starts beating a little too fast. She climbs the steps to the front porch and rests her forehead on the door for a second before getting in.
6:20.
She makes a list in her head: shower, heat up the oven, clean her room, light up the candles –
Light up the candles?
Deena shakes her head as if to reset her brain. “What? I’m definitely not doing that.”
She focuses back on the list. Shower. Oven. Her room. She’s got this. But not without that damn cigarette first. It only takes her about thirty seconds to find a pack under some bills and papers. She snatches one and rests it between her lips, lighting it up just outside the door, resting with her shoulders on the wall.
The suffocating smell of smoke is better than whatever is going on inside her head, so Deena closes her eyes, trying to concentrate on the fact that she might have sex for the first time tonight. And it’s not even that she might have sex that terrifies her, it’s the fact that she might do it with Sam. With the person that matters most to her in the entire world – in the entire universe.
“Fuck,” she mumbles once she realizes the cigarette has burned out between her fingers.
She’s just finished fluffing a pillow when the doorbell rings. While walking to the entrance, she shoves the pizza inside the oven and sets a timer. Sam smiles at her when she swings the door open.
“Hi,” she says, waving her hand in an awkward way that makes them both laugh. “Sorry, I’m just – happy to be here.”
Deena lets her in, “And I’m happy you’re here.” Once the door closes behind them, Sam leans in for a small but lingering kiss. Deena can taste her strawberry lipstick. They part, still a little dazed and intertwine their fingers together.
“So, what’d you tell your mom?”
She knows for a fact Sam didn’t tell her she was coming over to her house, otherwise Darla would have probably locked her daughter up in her room and Deena would have had to rescue her like a knight in shining armor.
Sam settles on the couch with her legs crossed and sighs, “I’m currently at school for the fundraiser and then I’ll go to a cheer sleepover at Jenna’s.” The way goodie good Samantha Fraser casually lies to her parents so often makes Deena’s insides twist in a way she really likes.
“Oh yeah? At the kissing booth thing?”
Her girlfriend nods, “It’s a great way to raise money. You have no idea how much people will pay for a kiss.”
Deena sits on the couch and leans down to brush her lips with Sam’s, “Lucky me, I get yours for free.”
When their mouths meet, sparks climb from the tips of her fingers right to the center of her chest. Sam places a hand on Deena’s cheek and pulls her down a little, so she’s laying on top of her. They kiss, and giggle, and when Deena pulls back to look at Sam’s puffy lips and smeared lipstick the words almost slip out of her mouth.
“What?” Sam asks, puzzled.
Deena swallows the knot in her throat. “I –”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing .
Of course, right in that instant, the timer for the pizza goes off. If there is some kind of entity up there, they sure hate Deena. “Um, pizza’s ready,” she says, getting up and heading for the kitchen.
Sam is quick to reach her, pulling out two plates from the cupboard and reminding Deena to use gloves when taking out the scolding pizza.
“I know how to do it,” she replies only a little offended, but Sam brings up the infamous pizza accident on Halloween in eighth grade. “Oh my God, I was like thirteen! Stop giving me shit for it!”
Sam laughs as Deena cuts the pizza, “You reached inside the oven with your bare hands . Like, what was your thought process? I am made of metal?”
Her thought process had actually been more along the lines of: holy shit since when did Sam get so pretty and why does my stomach feel weird whenever she looks at me oh fuck I burnt my hands because I was too busy staring at her, but of course she isn’t going to admit that in a million years.
“You’d be surprised at what my hands can do,” Deena ends up saying, except she realizes a second too late the double meaning behind her sentence and almost lets the glass she’s holding fall on the floor. Sam’s ears turn bright red, and she pretends to be looking for something in the fridge as Deena whispers to herself a hushed “Shit!”.
“Coke okay?”
“Uh, sure,” Deena replies sitting down at the table. Looking at their two sad slices of pizza and paper napkins, she kind of regrets not lighting up a candle or two. She didn’t even get Sam any flowers or shit. She lifts her head to watch her girlfriend chew with an absent look, lost somewhere between the window and the wall.
Sam is the first to start up a conversation, asking Deena about her day, like what they’re doing right now is no different than their usual hang outs. She complains about cheer practice and almost chokes on her drink while laughing at a joke Deena makes about their coach.
The growing tension of the night slowly fades away, between recounting fifth grade memories – like the time Steve H. had given Sam a Valentine’s Day card only for her to politely tell him she wasn’t looking for anything serious at the tender age of ten – and exchanging playful looks from across the table. Deena’s foot climbs up Sam’s leg a little and she sees her inhale a sharp breath while talking about her French pop quiz.
She bites the inside of her cheek and gives Deena the look. “Can we watch a movie?”
Sam’s request is granted immediately, and in less than ten minutes they’re cuddled up on the couch, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off playing on the Johnson’s old television.
They’ve seen it so many times, the tape skips in some points – fortunately, Sam is there to fill the gaps whenever Ferris freezes on screen for a second or so: “I'm not European, so who gives a crap if they're socialists?” Sam quotes imitating Matthew Broderick perfectly.
“You’re such a nerd,” Deena comments, tracing made-up patterns on Sam’s jeans.
She turns to smile at her and they look at each other for a second too long, or at least enough for Deena’s hand to climb up a little higher and make Sam’s cheeks turn the color of a Sunnyvale varsity jacket. The movie plays in the background, skipping like a broken record, but Sam isn’t talking anymore: she’s settled herself on top of Deena, her legs on each side of her hips, kissing her with a fervor Deena finds inebriating.
She lets her hands slide from her back down to Sam’s ass, and she squeezes it a little, earning a delicious moan in return.
Sam’s tongue easily slips inside her mouth just as Ferris is calling Cameron to convince him to get out of bed and embark on a one-day adventure with him and his girlfriend. Every inch of Deena is on fire – she feels like something crawled under her skin and let loose a thousand tiny fireworks inside her body.
It doesn’t take her too long to switch their positions and have Sam pinned beneath her on the couch. She kisses her neck until she reaches a hint of her bare clavicle poking out of her shirt.
“Let me,” Sam says, propping herself enough to tug at the bottom of her shirt and remove it. Her lacy pink bra makes Deena’s heart skip a beat. She takes off her Blondie shirt too and resumes her trail of kisses over Sam’s body.
This is as far as they’ve ever come, and Deena now feels a mix of anxiety next to the wonderful feeling of Sam sighing under her.
Once their jeans have fallen on the floor too, Sam is the first to unhook her bra with one swift movement. She unconsciously covers her chest, as if suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that she’s practically naked. Deena presses a gentle kiss on her cheek and whispers, “You’re beautiful.”
Then, out of nowhere, she stops – her hand suddenly frozen on Sam’s stomach. The feeling of anxiety has completely overcome her desire, and she’s left with a million doubts clouding her mind.
What if she’s not good at it? What if Sam laughs in her face? What if her hands can’t stop shaking? What if she fucks it up and Sam never wants to see her again? What if after this they can’t go back to how it was before? What if –
“Are you okay?”
Sam’s hand has settled on top of her own, blue eyes staring at her filled with worry. Deena snaps out of it and swallows the knot in her throat, trying to ignore the pounding in her heart and the sweat pooling from her forehead.
She feels dizzy but smiles again, “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
Lie.
She tries to connect her lips with Sam’s again, but a hand on her chest stops her.
“Deena,” Sam simply says, and it’s enough for her to let out a big breath – like she’s been drowning underwater and now she has finally reached the surface again.
She almost cries, which is frankly embarrassing.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” she mumbles, letting her face fall between her hands. This is so stupid: they’re in their underwear on Valentine’s Day, Sam looks absolutely gorgeous, they’re sixteen years old, it doesn’t make any sense.
She feels Sam’s fingers wrap around her naked shoulder, after hearing her shuffle a little to put her bra back on. Her voice is soothing when Deena hears it in her ear.
“That’s alright. We can just watch the movie if you want to.”
After the feeling of puking has faded, Deena feels – confused. “What?” she manages to croak out, lifting her eyes to see Sam’s dimples, “But I started this, and I wanted this – I mean, I thought I did, and I almost lit those stupid candles Simon gave me –”
“Wait, pause. Candles?”
Sam laughs so much her eyes almost start to water. She covers her mouth with a hand, “I’m sorry, it’s just the thought of you lighting candles for me is –”
“So you’re not mad?” Deena asks tentatively, still not totally understanding why Sam isn’t making her passive aggressive pissed off face at her or storming out of the room like she does whenever they fight.
She feels Sam’s hand find hers and intertwine their fingers firmly. She bumps their shoulders together, like she does whenever Deena gets too much into her head, “I’m not mad,” she replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s not like I love you any less because you’re not ready to have sex. We can take it slow.”
Deena registers only the first half of the sentence, focused only on one particular word. Love. Love? Love!
Holy fuck.
Sam has realized too. “Oh God. Did I just –”
“I think you did,” Deena says, completely amazed.
She has thought about this moment so many times, it doesn’t even feel real anymore. It’s like something out of her dreams. She’s dreaming. Her eyes close for a second and re-open again. Sam is still sitting next to her, pink bra, pink cheeks and all. So she’s not dreaming.
Her mouth precedes her brain, rolling out on her tongue those four words that make Sam’s face light up even more, “I love you too.”
Ferris sprints on the highway the exact moment Deena leans in to grab Sam’s face and kiss her for a very long time. She expected a lot from tonight, but saying I love you for the first time certainly wasn’t it. Sam pulls back first, letting their noses brush with a content smile. “I can’t believe we really said that,” she whispers, and even though no one is there to hear them, Deena feels like they’re sharing something too intimate to say it out loud.
“Now,” Sam then continues, clearing her throat and getting up, extending a hand towards Deena, “I’m going to steal one of your sweaters and you are going to hear me quote Ferris Bueller for the rest of the night. Deal?”
Deena takes Sam’s hand and lets her lead them into her room, “Deal.”
They cuddle up on the couch again after a few minutes, Sam wrapped in the comfort of Deena’s dad’s Shadyside sweatshirt that’s one size too large for her and Deena wearing her green, red, and blue knitted sweater. The movie plays without too many interruptions, Sam first jumping at any occasion to fill in the gaps and then gradually letting her head rest on Deena’s shoulder, closing her eyes about halfway through and snoring softly until the credits start rolling.
The static sound of the tape ending let's Deena know it’s time to wake up Sam. She almost decides against it, seeing her sleeping so peacefully, but then her sore neck protests and she nudges her girlfriend slightly.
“Sam,” she murmurs, hearing a string of whines coming from beside her.
Sam rubs her eyes a little before cracking one open and yawning, “Did I miss the Parade scene?” Deena chuckles at the fact that this is the first thing she asks her, but she replies anyway, informing her that the movie is over. Sam groans with her head still resting on Deena’s shoulder and her hands wrapped around her.
“It was my favorite scene,” she complains with her voice still full of sleep.
“I know, baby, but you’ve seen it so many times. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”
Deena tries to get up but Sam doesn’t soften her grip on her, burying her face even more inside the crook of her neck. “Alright,” she says, reaching for Sam’s hips with her hand and settling her into her lap, “You ready?” Sam makes some sort of noise Deena takes as a yes and she lifts herself up, careful not to lose balance. Her hands settle under Sam’s thighs as her girlfriend tangles her legs around Deena’s hips.
She waddles from the living room back to her room, opening the door with her foot and almost falling over.
“Fuck, you’re heavy,” she grumbles with a grin tugging at her lips when Sam comes out of her sleepy state to say: “Are you calling me fat?”
They drop on the bed together and Sam squeals, definitely more awake now. “Deena!”
“What?” she asks innocently with an eyebrow raised.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Says the girl who made me carry her like a five-year-old to bed.”
Sam rolls around to try and hit Deena, but she’s faster, intercepting her arm mid-air. “Don’t be an asshole,” she warns her, leaning in to kiss Sam again.
She can feel her smile through the kiss and she doesn’t complain when Sam offers to be the big spoon, wrapping Deena up in a tight but comfortable hug and resting her face between her neck and shoulder.
“Goodnight,” she says, feeling Sam’s heart beating at a steady pace. They’re so close, it almost feels like they’re one person. Sam nuzzles her hair a little and mumbles a “Night,” back, adding after a few seconds three words that make Deena’s eyes open again.
“I love you.”
She basks in the way it makes her feel and then fills the silence in the room with her reply.
“I love you too.”
Kate calls her the morning after at a painfully early hour, warning her that she’s already late to pick her and Simon up. Unfortunately, they’ve got school, and she’s still paying off the bet she lost (something dumb about who could drink their entire milkshake with their nose without choking) which involves driving them both every morning for at least another week.
The ride to school is excruciating to say the least: starting with Sam sitting in the front seat wearing clothes that are definitely not hers and ending with Simon inquiring about the candles.
“Ladies go crazy for that shit! We sell like a ton of them every day.”
“I didn’t use your fucking candles, Simon,” Deena says on the verge of exasperation. Sam squeezes her hand resting over the gear shift and gives her a don’t-be-mean-to-our-friends look, telling Simon that they were in fact lovely.
He feels satisfied enough with her answer and goes on a tangent about the various discounts they have at the grocery store, with Kate rolling her eyes at every red light Deena ‘forgets’ to stop at.
“You are going to get us all killed one day,” she comments when Deena makes a rather sharp turn for the parking lot, “Either that or Sheriff Goode will get you for good.”
“I wouldn’t mind him getting me for good, if you know what I mean –”
“Simon, that's disgusting!”
“Okay, he’s hot . He’s a cop, so ACAB and all that shit, but c’mon.”
While Kate and Simon argue in the backseat about Sheriff Goode’s perfect hair, Sam smiles at Deena from the passenger seat. “Thanks for the ride,” she says, gathering her bag and leaning in for a small peck, careful not to be seen by anyone. Deena waves at her from the open window when she starts heading for the main entrance and turns to look for an empty spot.
Sam hasn’t even crossed the entrance yet when Kate jumps into the front seat, almost making Deena run into Heather’s car, “Jesus! What the fuck, Kate?!”
“So how’d it really go? Was it super romantic? And did you seriously use the candles?”
Simon interjects immediately, “Hey, do not insult the candles.”
Deena shakes her head at them and sighs, pulling out the keys from the car and shoving them into her pockets. “Not that it’s any of your business,” she starts, opening the car door and picking up her drumsticks from the dashboard, “But nothing happened last night.”
“Ah-ha!” Kate gloats like she’s just won something and from the defeated look on Simon’s face when he hands her a crumpled up five-dollar bill, Deena immediately understands what exactly went down.
“You bet on my virginity?”
“Nothing personal, babe,” her friend says, fixing her ponytail on their way to the stairs, “I just love to get cash from Si-money.”
Simon scratches his head nodding, “That is true.”
Deena rolls her eyes while going through the metal detector, but she can’t stop her lips from curving into a smile when Kate tells her that – for the record – she only bet against her because everyone knows having your first time on Valentine’s day is trashy.
“Remind me again, why do I still hang with you two?” she asks heading for the bathroom before Kate linking their arms together can stop her.
“Because your life would be boring without us!” she replies, dragging her across the hallway, “Now come on Virgin Mary, let’s get to class before I ruin my perfect attendance record.”