Chapter Text
Everybody always wants to know why he doesn't just bite the bullet and ask her out, already. It's been how many years of Flower Dances, of hanging out twice a month, of awkwardly thanking her for being such a good teacher to his little brother? How many years of Maru slipping hints that she's into him, she'd say yes if he just bought her that bouquet? Seriously, Sam needs to get his act together and realize that he won't find anything better than Penny.
Even Sebastian teases him about it, not that he's doing any better with his situationship with Abigail. But he's not really teasing about Penny, because if he was, then Sam could return fire. He's teasing about Sam's hang-up. He's teasing about the fact that Sam really, truly, believes that the girl of his dreams is out there, somewhere.
The girl of Sam's dreams gets along with Sebastian, actually. That was one of the earliest dreams he had about her, years ago. She sits on the riverbank outside his house while Sebastian smokes, laughing at him, or maybe at something he said. He rolls his eyes while he ashes his cigarette, but with that slight twitch in one cheek that passes for a smile on his face, means he's enjoying her company.
Penny tolerates Sebastian because he's Maru's brother, but the girl of his dreams is really friends with him. She likes his best friend, not just because of who they have in common, but because she sees why Sam likes him.
Sebastian says he's foolish for buying in to the archetype of the dream girl at all, let alone believing in her existence as a literal person. He says that maybe Jodi's on to something with all her talk of prophets. Sam must be receiving messages from Yoba, if he really believes this dream girl will arrive in town some day. He tells Sam to seek spiritual advising from Emily.
He's joking, but Sam does, because he really needs to either find his dream girl or get over her before it's too late.
Emily's not much help, all told. She suggests that the reason Sam floats through life is because all Yoba has planned for him is to meet this girl.
But he doesn't float through life, exactly. Well, he kind of does. He moves through the world like it's made of maple syrup, viscous and translucent, trying to grab onto things and mostly failing. Not even his body is really his own. It's just where he lives.
Except for when he's playing music. When he's strumming his guitar, the world is three-dimensional. He lives for it, if he's honest. For the times he can open his mouth and something other than his voice comes out. He can be anything he wants, when he's singing a song.
The girl of his dreams likes singing, too, and noodles around on his guitar when they're alone in his room. She dances with him at the Saloon. That one was a recent dream, watching her slip a coin into the jukebox and key in his favourite song without even needing to check the catalogue. She has a smile on her face, raises her arms above her head, lifting the hem of her jean jacket well above her waist as she sings along with the music.
Sam catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door of the General Store. His mullet's getting long, shaggy ends extending past his collar and rustling against denim every time he twists his head. He needs a haircut, soon. Penny will probably offer to do it for him. She's kind like that.
That's why he's finally doing it. He's not sure what's special about today. He's run out of patience for the girl of his dreams. He's mustered 200g and the courage to finally do what needs to be done. Tomorrow morning, he's decided. When she comes to pick up his brother for school. He'll be waiting for her in the entryway, flowers in hand, say something about how he doesn't deserve her, but he hopes she'll take him anyway. By tomorrow morning, he'll have it all figured out.
Penny's an early bird. Most weeks, Sam's barely even awake when she comes to pick up Vincent, most days. He always wakes up when she arrives, of course, because his little brother shrieks with such joy to see her, even if he doesn't like school very much. When he remembers to act like a real human being, he pokes his head out of his room to greet her as she sits on her heels, getting down to eye level so that she can persuade Vincent to come to the museum with her.
His entire family loves her, and why shouldn't they? She's good with kids, she's polite, she offers to help in the kitchen even after the thousandth time Jodi told her that guests don't need to help. She dresses so decently, reads so much, takes care of Pam even though it's a thankless job. She's the good girl to Sam's bad boy. She'll be such a good influence on him. Of course his family wants him to ask her out.
That's the one thing his dream girl doesn't have over her. In his dreams Jodi tolerates her, at best, looks at her like she's grieving the relationship he never had with Penny. Smiles faintly while she jokes with Vincent at the dinner table. At least his brother likes her. His mother scoffs while she drops the cutlery she's taking into the kitchen for washing. She shakes her head at the length of her skirt, makes passive-aggressive comments about the mud that must be caked in the treads of her sneakers. She tries to pretend this girl doesn't exist. In that strange way that you know things in dreams, Sam knows that Jodi hasn't written a letter about how he's finally found a girlfriend.
Not even his subconscious has ever dared to imagine what Kent would think of his dream girl.