Chapter Text
It was the start of summer, 2012, and the air smelled like cherries, fresh grass, and the creamy sunscreen that Hannah (with varying degrees of success) tried to get her friends to use. The girls passed the day in swimsuits, chafing their thighs and burning their shoulders, strutting down Santa Monica Beach and flirting with the college boys littered there. The sun rose pink, orange, and bursting with potential, watched by a nearly seventeen-year-old Sam Giddings. Life was as ripe and sweet as the peaches blooming on Melinda Washington’s tree.
At the very moment, Sam was lying under that tree, borrowing one of the Washington kids’ old beach towels and massaging the lawn with her feet. In the last thirty-six hours, she’d only seen her father about once, when she’d gone to collect a toothbrush. He’d sent her a message earlier that day about the dishes awaiting her return. Oops. She hummed and sighed, looking to her right, where Hannah was enthusiastically rubbing on more of that coconut-scented lotion.
“Don’t forget your scalp,” Sam advised, propping herself up and feeling several beads of sweat roll down her chest.
Hannah grinned, half her face pink and the other half blotched with white. “I won’t. Otherwise Beth will tell everyone I have lice again.”
“Is she still getting over when you gave her lice in fourth grade?”
Hannah hummed thoughtfully and flopped back down on her towel, her long hair fanning out behind her. While Sam’s milky skin tended to burn or freckle under the sun, hers was the same shade as the roasted Macadamia nuts Mr. Washington liked to feed them on the boat. Tennis had hardened her muscles and warded away loose fat–she had a really good bikini body, Sam thought admiringly, looking at her flat tummy. It was one of the many reasons it personally wounded her to see Hannah's envious looks thrown towards Emily when Mike was around. She reached across and poked her friend hard in the belly button.
A copy of Seventeen magazine smacked her. “Hands to yourself, tubby.”
“I’m bored,” Sam complained.
“Go bother Josh, then,” replied Hannah with a yawn, flipping the page. Sam grunted, but pushed herself up anyway and began to trek across the lawn towards the house. The cool air conditioning of the kitchen was a welcome greeting and a blissful relief for her bare feet. She let out a little sigh and started to fix herself a cup of orange juice.
As it turned out, she didn’t need to go look for Josh, because he slunk into the kitchen at that very moment, with a loud, disgruntled exhale of, “God, you’re still here? Don’t you have a family, Samantha?”
“Talk to me again when you get a job."
“ You should get a job, brokie."
“I have a job!”
“Nuh uh," he replied, snatching the juice out of her hand and taking a big swig.
Sam couldn’t believe he was going to college that fall. “Your roommate is going to hate you,” she groused, taking it back and returning the carton to the fridge.
“As if,” said Chris, strolling in from the hallway and planting a big, loud, wet kiss on Josh’s cheek. Ashley trailed in behind him, offering Sam a wave. “Nothing could tear me away from my big, strong boy.”
Oh right. Chris and Josh were continuing their little scheme together at the local university, where she was sure they were going to be the bane of both their dorm and the campus police. Freaks. Ashley was a year younger than Sam, an incoming junior, but as far as she knew, the other girl was planning on staying in California for school too. Probably at a tiny, private liberal arts college surrounded by other grammar snobs and poets. Not that Sam didn’t like Ashley–she did, and would even say they were friends, but her and Chris ran with Josh while Sam usually stayed among the twins’ crowd: Mike, Jessica, and Emily, who had all just finished high school, and Matt, who was also going to be a senior.
Boo. Sam didn’t really like to think about how they were graduating. Thus far, she’d been successful in her plan of simply ignoring that it was happening until August arrived and they were all gone. No more Mike, Jessica, and Emily…no more Josh.
“I know someone that could,” Josh said lewdly, whipping his head towards Ashley and breaking into a fat grin as Chris, whose face looked hot enough to fry an egg on, cuffed his ear sharply.
“Oh please,” snapped back Ashley, her cheeks pinkening, but she didn’t add anymore as the boys started to wrestle. Josh was tall, but he was so lanky that burlier Chris easily trapped him in a chokehold. Then Josh balltapped him, and while his friend wheezed, he flitted over to safety behind Sam.
“Real mature, Josh.”
“I’m..going…to get…you…back..”
“Protect me, Sammy!” His arms wrapped loosely around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. She was pretty positive she smelled like sweat and the sun, but it was only Josh so she didn’t particularly care. They’d backpacked together before (the entire way, Josh whining, “This is the first and last time I ever do this!”) and that was a billion times grosser.
Sam glared down at him. “Weren’t you just telling me to leave?”
His breath sent out little puffs of air that tickled her bare skin. “Must’ve been the wind.”
“Ugh, Josh, personal space,” complained Hannah, coming inside with a squeak from the door. She still wasn’t wearing glasses, which allowed Sam to appreciate her similarities to both Beth and her brother. They had the same olive skin, dark hair, and nose. But it was their eyes that set them apart; the girls’ eyes were a d in eep black, glistening and warm like coals fresh from the fire. Josh’s eyes had all the intensity of coals on fire, but shaded a milky blue-green.
He laughed and straightened up, heading to bother his sister instead. Sam felt a trail of goosebumps go down her spine, spreading to her waist and shoulder where his warmth had been. It sure was cold without the sun, she thought.
It was later that night when Sam got the phone call. It was 9:32 according to the clock on her bedside table–she had left the Washington’s house seven hours ago. In that time, she’d washed the dishes, helped her dad change a tire, cleaned her room, and even considered writing a college essay. What a trooper. So now, she laid on her bed, leafing through the magazine Hannah had been reading earlier.
Sam’s bedroom looked about the same as it had when she was a freshman, with bright blue walls tacked with photos and posters (the most important one being Jacob in New Moon ) and the hardwood floor hidden under a pink polka dot rug. Her windows, right above her bed, looked over the side of the house and towards where the sun would rise the next morning. She had them propped open, letting the sweet smell of the summer night creep in: clean air, wildflowers, and cool asphalt.
She sighed, flipping a page and feeling a bit unenthusiastic for the future. Her wet hair was piled high in a loose towel, but the back of her neck was still a bit wet. Maybe tomorrow she would see if anyone wanted to catch a movie. Her phone started playing a jingle, and when she answered, she was surprised to see that the contact wasn’t Hannah or Beth, but read Josh Wash .
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Hello?”
His voice came back kind of crackly. “Hey Sammy. Guess what the twins forgot to tell you?”
“Um, should I be nervous?”
A snicker. “No.”
“...”
“...”
“...So what would that be?”
“We’re going camping up in Mendocino. For four days. Um, tomorrow. Me, Chris and Ash, and the girls. Potentially also Emily and them? Except I think there was something going on, so I actually don’t know–”
Sam sat straight up. “Sorry, did you say tomorrow ?”
“Uh, yeah. Oops. Think your dad will say yes? Just kidding, my mom talked to him like two weeks ago. She told him to not tell you because the girls were gonna surprise you, except they forgot. Sorry.”
She hissed a few choice words into the phone that made him laugh, but leaped off her bed and started rifling through her dresser. “Since when do you guys go outside? I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve seen you leave the house–”
“Rude, also not true.”
“–and no offense to Chris and Ashley, but I can’t imagine them existing, like, peacefully among the trees or in the sun.”
Another crackly laugh. “Sorry we aren’t all hummus-eaters, Samantha.”
“I fail to see how that relates to their survival chances…and I need to pack. So, bye.”
“Tomorrow, 5:15 ante meridiem, Samantha! Love you, bye!” Click .
Sam let out one controlled sigh. “Fucking Washingtons,” she grumbled.
As it turned out, it wasn’t just that Melinda had told Sam’s dad not to tell her, he had also just flat out forgotten about the camping trip. Which led to a very awkward interaction the next morning at 4:45, when Dan the Man came flying into the main room, wielding a bat and only wearing his tighty-whities, having thought her a burglar. Once they’d both gotten over their heart-attacks, he’d calmed down and put on real clothes just in time for Josh’s blue Landcruiser to pull up in front.
“Sam, honey, they’re here!” Dan informed her needlessly, red-faced and out of breath, holding her large backpacking pack. It was a deep olive green color, decorated with splotches of dirt and pins from the states she’d visited. It was threadbare and had several broken zippers, but it had already been like that when she first used it, having once belonged to her mother.
She wondered if it left a sour taste in her dad’s mouth, looking at it, the same way it did for her. It probably held years worth of trips and stories she would never get to hear about. Eurgh. Weird.
“Thanks Dad,” Sam said, patting his elbow as he opened the door to reveal Josh’s grinning face. He had plastered on the look reserved for parents, the one that said I’m a nice boy, really! You can trust me with your car AND your daughter! She had never found it all that convincing; his eyes were a little too intense for him to appear boy-next-door-esque, his smile a bit too sharp. He was handsome enough that it didn’t come off wolfish, just a bit mischevious.
“Hey, man. How are you?” Josh briefly shook his hand and took Sam’s bag from him. “Thanks–yup, I got it–for letting Sam come out with us. It’d probably be a disaster without her, Chris and Ash are useless in the woods.”
Dan nodded and looked at the bag in Josh’s arms appreciatively. He tended to be more of the silent type in the faces of people who lived outside his household. He turned to his daughter. “Be safe, have fun, make good decisions. I love you.”
Sam gave him a side hug and he kissed her temple. “Love you! Bye, Dad.” They closed the door and walked to the car, listening to the crunching rocks under their feet. The sun hadn’t yet beat the dawn, painting the sky a mix of periwinkle blues and wispy pinks. It looked a little bit like heaven, she thought.
When they reached the car, she realized something was wrong. “Wait,” she said, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are the girls?”
Josh sent her an apologetic look. “Um…so Beth threw up this morning and has a fever. So she’s a no-go. Hannah just got accepted, like super late last night to this tennis showcase, which I guess was unexpected, but they have a coach from some colleges she really wants to play at attending, so she isn’t coming up until late tomorrow. And apparently Emily’s parents have a thing–I don’t really understand it, but I’m just gonna assume she’s coming up later or not at all.”
Sam tried to subtly chew her lip. So...over twenty-four hours, including an impossibly long car ride, acting as Person Number Four in a trio…
“But you still get Ashley!” Josh declared, throwing up jazz hands in the direction of the car. She could see the other girl fast asleep in the back, her red hair obscuring her face. Oh man. Once again, Sam liked Ashley. She did. But uh…they were not the closest of friends. “And the rest of you guys–Matt, Mike, Jessica, potentially Em–are also coming tomorrow, so…it should be fine!” He gave her a winning smile, but his eyes were bugging out a little, so she knew that meant he was nervous.
“Okay,” Sam decided to go the confident, unbothered route. “That’s fine! We’ll just have twice as much fun, duh.” F uckkkkkk .
“Duh,” Josh agreed, and he tossed her stuff into the trunk.
The car was absolutely packed to the brim–overstuffed duffel bags, huge containers of camping supplies and utensils, sleeping pads, tents, a cooler, foldout chairs, and a bunch of grocery bags. The backseat held a significant amount of pillows and blankets, which were being put to use by a sleeping Ash and a barely more awake Chris, who offered Sam a tired greeting when she clambered into the front seat.
“Who’s pumped for the seven hour drive!” Josh whisper-shouted, buckling his seat belt and handing Sam an iced coffee and bagel. He must’ve asked the twins what she normally got from Starbucks.
“Thanks,” she whispered, and Chris grumbled from the backseat, “Oh sure , he’ll pay for yours, but me, his life partner of 13 years, no I have to pay for my own food.”
“Complain to Ash about it, four-eyes,” Josh said breezily, and that was that.
The first hour or so melted by quickly, hastened by the sleepiness in her body and the warmth of the car. The sun journeyed with them, blinking into a bright gold existence undeterred by clouds. Its glimmering light reminded her of playing with her cousins at Grandma’s house, of early-morning drives to look-out points, of chalk-covered hands and cold orange juice. She rested her face against the window and watched the sky, thinking.
Somewhere, probably around Bakersfield, she must’ve fallen asleep. By the time she was shaken awake, Sam had created a nice little wet spot on her t-shirt. Her mouth felt like sand. “Wuzzgoinon?” She mumbled.
They were at a truck stop, she could see. There were a bunch of gas pumps and a big store with neon signs bragging about its meal deals. Josh had opened her door from the outside and was pointing at her drool spot. “That’s cute.“
Sam started to untangle herself from the seat. “Yeah, want some?”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind when I imagined us swapping spit.” He laughed and she swatted his shoulder. “Bathroom break. Cochise and Ashley are already in there buying snacks.”
It was like being seven all over again. If she looked out the building’s windows, she would see her mother pumping gas into their big van. They would have pulled over after her whining about needing to pee, and her dad would grumble and complain that she just went, but he would get off at the nearest exit anyway. They would go inside, and while Sam used the bathroom, Dan would buy an egregious amount of Swedish Fish, Popcorn, and one Coke for everybody. Her mother liked Cheez-Its, so they would buy her a bag too.
Instead, she was seventeen-years-old and the van had been sold off years ago. She could hold in her pee for longer now, but she still paid the cashier with her dad’s money. Tortilla chips, Coke, and a slice of vegan banana bread. Yum.
Chris came up behind her, cradling a huge pile of junk food in his arms. “I’m starting my diet after this trip,” he explained.
Ashley, trailing after him, shot Sam an unconvinced look. “He says that literally every time .” She put one hand on his bicep and pinched it. “As if he needs it. You’re just a growing boy, Christopher.”
“Yeah, horizontally.”
“I was really pudgy as a kid, but then my uncles made fun of my dad too many times, so he made me do track,” said Sam.
“I…cannot imagine you being fat.”
“Well, don’t you know how to compliment a girl,” Ashley sighed. She still didn’t take her hand off his arm, which may have been the cause for the flush visibly spreading across his face.
“What! Is that bad?”
Sam smiled to herself and left them to bicker. The doors responded to her exit with a sharp ding sound and she was immediately greeted by a warm gust of air. It was still early, so it wasn’t as intolerable as it soon would be, but Sam was glad to be wearing shorts and a tank top nonetheless. When she got back to the car, the trunk was open and had Josh’s body sticking out of it. He had stuck his head pretty much inside the cooler and was organizing stuff inside it.
“Hey, what’d you get?”
There was a thumping sound and a swear. Josh wiggled himself out, holding his head but giving her a smile filled with great satisfaction. “Stupid chilly–I mean cooler. That’s what my auntie calls it.” He shot her a side-eye, looking a bit embarrassed, but she gestured for him to keep going. His expression switched to one of enormous gratification. “Ta-da!”
Sam peered inside—and was greeted by a great cacophony of alcohol. Pink Whitney, which she knew was Jess and Em’s drink of choice, Rainier, Jack Daniel’s, and some other beers. There wasn’t any ice, but Chris had mentioned earlier in the drive that they were going to stop at a grocery store when they were closer to the campgrounds.
“Holy alcoholic. How much did that all cost? Wait, did you just buy that?”
Josh gave her a smile full of teeth and held up a very shitty Montana ID. “Samantha, say hello to–”
“Stu Myers? That’s so— ugh .” She huffed out a laugh and grabbed it out of his hands to get a better look. “You look horrible! Who took this picture?”
“Cochise, obvi,” answered Josh proudly, looking at it with admiration. She shook her head and handed it back to him. How anyone would believe that he was equal to or above the age of twenty-one was beyond her. Well. He did have some pretty gnarly eyebags that made him look a little older, but his face was so expressive, so full of youth and teenage restlessness that it seemed impossible to not see his adolescence.
He waved a hand in her face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Your face looks especially stupid today.”
“I think you mean especially handsome . Aww, thanks Sammy. As do you, I love the mustache.” Josh lightly pulled her ponytail and opened the passenger door for her, careful to be as slow and annoying as possible. “Tough crowd,” he said when she pushed him out of the way and did it herself. Chris and Ashley rejoined them a few minutes later (to Josh wiggling his eyebrows and asking what could’ve taken them soooo long), and they got back on the road.
Now that everyone was awake, they spent the next thirty minutes fighting over what music to listen to (“Ashley, we get it, you’re emo, but we are not listening to Evanescence right now!” “I’m not emo! I just like the band!”). Once that was settled, they were able to coast for a bit, karaoking until Josh cracked and decided he couldn’t be expected to drive and listen to Chris’s warbling at the same time. Sam, for her part, found herself unexpectedly delighted to be there. It was different than being with the twins or Emily or Jessica–but not necessarily a bad different. Kinda like a warm rain in August after weeks of only the sun.
By the time they were past Fresno County, they all needed to pee and stretch their legs. The sun was high in the sky now, boiling and bright amidst the cloudless blue. Janet Jackson sang in the background as they pulled into the parking lot of a McDonalds.
“Remember when you dated Duncan McDonald?” Josh asked Ashley.
“ What –how do you know–that was in sixth grade!”
“We know everything ,” said Chris in a significant tone, his eyes wide and wiggling his fingers in her face. She gave him an unamused look and said, “You guys are so pestiferous,” which was met with a laugh from Sam and unanimous groans from Josh and Chris.
Soon enough, they were all squished in a booth together and waiting to get their meals. Sam offered to pay, but Josh had vehemently insisted that it was his treat. Plus, he had said, if she was stuck with them, it was only fair.
“I wish we went to one of the ones that has a play place,” sighed Chris. He had taken off his glasses and was rubbing his eyes.
“As if they’d let you in, pervert. Ashley, what’s another word for that?”
“A synonym? Deviant.”
“That’s what you are, Chris. We need to protect the kids.”
“What the hell, Josh,” sighed Chris again. He stood up from the table and extended an elbow to Ashley, who took it like an old Victorian woman clinging to her husband. Ugh. They were so clueless. Well, clueless-ish, because Chris had his usual flush and Ashley’s pale face was beginning to match her hair.
Josh threw his upper body onto the table as the other two went to grab the food. “See, Sam? Do you see what I have to deal with?”
She patted his head sympathetically. “Poor baby.”
He turned his head and gave her a criminal side-eye. “Stop, Samantha, I’m serious, it’s horrible. I get both sides of them whining to me about, ‘Oh Josh, I just don’t think he likes me!’ and ‘Ashley is so perfect, she deserves better than me!’ and then what do you know, they fall asleep on the couch together and then come to tell me all about it. Christ, it’s enough to drive a man mad.”
“Hannah mentioned something like that,” Sam replied, thinking back to a conversation she’d had last January: “ To be honest, I think Josh might be a little jealous. I know he jokes about it, but I think he’s worried that they’re going to get together and leave him behind ,” Hanah had said as they lounged in the Washington’s hot tub.
“Oh don’t even get me started on Hannah,” he said with a huge eye roll, just as Ashley and Chris returned with trays of junk food. Emily would have an aneurysm if she saw it.
“Don’t even get him started ,” parroted Chris, handing around the food. “Burgers. Here. Josh I think this one is yours–Sam did you not get a burger–?”
“She’s vegan,” interjected Josh and Ashley at the same time.
“I got the apple slices and two fries,” she offered, and he slid her the tray. The conversation trucked on, mostly filled with Chris and Josh ribbing on each other, or teaming up to rib on Ashley’s habit of using SAT words casually or Sam and her veganism. “Dumb and dumber,” Ashley loudly whispered, leaning across the table towards the other girl.
“More like Bill and Ted,” corrected Josh.
Chris clasped his best friend’s hands tenderly. “I love that movie.”
Josh slipped his right hand out and placed it on Chris’s cheek, mustering up what some would call a smoulder’ “I love you , man.”
Ashley, at that point, got tired of being the audience to their show and struck up a conversation with Sam about junior year. They stayed there until the lunch rush began and Josh started getting antsy, when they deduced that it was time to get their show on the road. Ashley fell asleep again, her head slumped against Chris’s shoulder, which Josh demanded Sam take a photo of for later teasing.
They drove on, the rumble of the road and engine causing Sam herself to drift, but when they were thirty miles out, they stopped at a small grocery and got all the necessary commodities: potato chips, ice, bread, cheese, and baby carrots, plus whatever garbage Josh had insisted on buying. Sitting in the Landcruiser felt like being stuffed in a very little clown car, but they were so close to the campsite and the open windows invited in a breeze that smelled like pine, so it didn’t much bother them.
“Oh, wow,” Sam breathed. She rolled down the window and stuck her head out of it, dust and dirt be damned, and holy shit. As far as she could see, the twisting pine-covered road was surrounded by towering redwoods and sunlight filtering through and illuminating the shady spots a bright gold. Wind rustled through the branches, birds sang, and so did Sam’s heart. Fuck if she didn’t feel a little patriotic. “This is so John Denver.”
Josh grinned, flipping his sunglasses down. “You like it?”
“Mhm,” Sam replied, drawing her head back inside but keeping her gaze focused out the window. “Hella pretty.”
“Dude, those sunglasses are so douchey,” said Chris from the backseat. Ashley rubbed her eyes beside him, looking around sleepily.
“You’re just jealous you don’t have any.”
“I can promise I am not.”
They finally pulled into the campsite around 3:30. Sam flung open the door and slowly extended her legs to the ground. Chris was slightly more dramatic and threw himself out the car, sinking to his knees and taking in an obnoxiously loud breath. Ashley rolled her eyes at him, but she too looked relieved to be done with the drive.
“Thank fuck, I was gonna crash if we were on the road any longer,” said Josh, opening up the trunk. Everything was crammed so tight that it was all perilously balanced, so unloading became a dangerous task. Thankfully, under Sam’s (expert) guidance, the only real casualties were a couple cookies that fell out the box, and Josh picked them up and ate them anyway. He took plenty of care to show Ashley the chewed up food in his mouth and only stopped when she hurled a family-sized bag of Doritos at his head. “Ow!”
“It’s going to be a rock next time,” she threatened.
“I’m holding you to that,” Sam said gleefully and extended her pinky to Ashley’s. The group then splintered off to set up their tents, the energy high and warm, kind of glowing in Sam’s chest as the foursome split into twos. The girls quickly claimed a shady and flat spot that was a small distance away from the main area and dumped their stuff onto the ground.
“Okay, confession, I have never set up a tent before,” said Ashley, looking a little lost as Sam started to lay out the tarp. Oh right. Suburbanites from Los Angeles.
“That’s okay, I can show you,” she replied, feeling that little burst of importance people got when they became The Expert. She showed her how to connect the poles and line them up with the holes in the tarp. They attached them to the actual body of the tent and then got to work putting up a water-proof layer, even though Sam was pretty sure that rain wasn’t in the forecast. Ashley understood her job quickly, so their teamwork made the whole thing take about ten minutes. It wasn’t too large, just enough space for about three girls. Neither of them particularly felt like blowing up their sleeping pads yet, so they simply threw their stuff inside. Ashley, for some reason, brought a rug, so they nestled it in to cover the tent’s floor. After they attached a light to the ceiling, they stepped out of the tent and surveyed their work.
“Wow,” said Ashley, her hands on her hips as she admired the tent. She had managed to do some elaborate braid between arriving at the campsite and setting up the tent, which hung between her shoulder blades and reached down to her elbows. Everyone Sam knew had cooler hair than her–the twins’ hair was wavy and dark, Jessica’s fair and always beautifully styled, Emily’s thick and shiny, and Ashley’s was so long and nicely colored. Sam’s hair was caught in an annoying texture between wavy and straight, which always made her have to choose between straightening it or wearing it in a ponytail. If she did wear it in a ponytail, then it looked thin and made her ears stick out, but if she straightened it, the ends looked dry and dead. Maybe she would try one of Beth’s fancy hair masks when she got back. Or buy a wig.
“Your hair is so pretty, I wish I could braid it like that,” sighed Sam, thinking of her cousins–they always had theirs braided, but they were also half Nigerian, so their hair was a little different than hers. She wondered how long it took to do.
“Oh! Thanks. It’s just a Dutch braid, my grandma showed me how. I could…do yours, if you want?” Ashley looked like the words that fell out of her mouth startled her. But Sam could see an olive branch where it grew, intentional or not, so after a second, she smiled and gave her a shy nod. “Okay, thanks!”
They settled on a mossy log, Sam sat criss-cross in front of Ashley. The other girl’s hands were nimble and cool, expertly separating Sam’s tangled blonde hair. She vaguely remembered her mother braiding her hair when she was little, but her face was blurry and overlapped with Mrs. Washington’s, Beth’s, and Jessica’s. They were the ones who did it before swimming at the beach, going to school dances, or track meets so that she could feel pretty. Look good, feel good, run good, right?
“My mom’s hair is really short, so I never can braid it,” Ashley said from behind her.
“Glad to be of assistance,” Sam replied. “I can only do really basic ones and I always miss, like, half of my hair.”
She couldn’t see Ashley’s face, but she imagined her usual small grin was showing. “Oh yeah, it’s tricky. Chris had kind of long hair when he was a sophomore, but he never let me do anything with it.” The faint pressure on her scalp lessened, telling her that Ashley was nearly done. “I love those two, but I always was kind of jealous that I didn’t really have any good girl friends, you know? My dad tried to outlaw sleepovers a few years ago too, until I reminded him that we’re all just friends. Can you imagine me and Josh dating? We’d end up on Dateline.”
Sam didn’t point out that anybody with any one of their five senses working could tell that she and Chris certainly acted like they were more than friends, but she did laugh at the idea of Josh and Ashley. That would be like a very quick, very violent car crash, with many casualties. They were quiet for a few moments, though it wasn’t awkward–just thoughtful. A peaceful silence in the shade of the trees and the song of the wild.
“Ta-da!” Ashley said, tucking a final strand behind Sam’s ear. “Lemme take a picture of the back.”
They peered at her phone together. The braid was much shorter and a little choppier, thanks to Sam’s at-home barber (Dan the Man), but it was thick and swingy. “Wow, thanks! That looks really good.”
“Thanks!” Ashley replied with a proud smile, and Sam felt a silly little feeling, one that made her feel kind of like she was playing ponies in preschool again. It was good though, warming her up just like the afternoon sun. They lingered in their tent area a little longer, enjoying the soft moss under their legs and an airy conversation about all the unimportant stuff—until an ant bit Ashley’s thigh, and they took that as a sign to check in with the guys.
Chris and Josh had in fact managed to set up their tent, however it was much more crooked and haphazardly built than the girls’. They’d chosen to put it about ten feet away from the picnic table and firepit, where they had set up a few camping chairs and draped themselves. The cooler in between them accounted for the Rainier that Josh currently had spinning in his hand. Chris has balanced his own beer on his stomach. They were talking quietly and with less flippant expressions than Sam was used to–Chris’s was more earnest, Josh just looked a little exasperated. But they both visibly perked up when the girls wandered over.
“Hey pretty ladies, come here often?” Chris said, fluttering his eyelashes at them.
“Barf,” replied Ashley, sitting on the chair next to him.
Josh passed her a beer and then used his teeth to crack another one open and offer it to Sam, a wily smile drawn on his face. “Are you a campfire? Because you’re hot and I want… s’more .”
“I’ve heard better,” Sam replied pertly, taking the bottle from him and trying to keep her eyes off where his mouth had touched it. Her stomach tightened a little. “If I get sick from this, I’m going to be upset.”
Josh laughed, saying, “As if this is the first time you’ve gotten my germs,” and reached over to wiggle his hands in front of her face. She gave him a look of disgust and made a cross with her hands. It was probably wrong since she hadn’t been to church since September of 1996—also known as when Grandma and Grandpa Giddings demanded a baptism.
“Ha, nice try, as if anything could ward me away from you , Sammy,” he said, pushing her hands away and smushing her cheeks together like a rabbit.
“Fffck–mphoo.”
“Josh, get your filthy paws off of her,” demanded Ashley, pointing her bottle at him like a knife. Josh took this as his sign to do the same to her, which quickly delved into a slap fight that ended thirty seconds later with a bright red handprint on his left cheek and a very satisfied Ashley.
“Did you guys check out the lake yet?” Chris asked, which distracted them from any further scuffle.
“There’s a lake!?”