"Holy shit..." I whispered to myself, sweat already lacing my brow. That couldn't have possibly been even remotely good. I knew that I needed to text Sam, because he would know better on how to deal with this than I would. As much as it pained me to admit it.

Me:

There's a really fucking suspicious car parked on the road outside of my house.

My breathing was definitely unsteady, but I tried to ignore it as I subtly peeked through the blinds instead. Just as it was fourteen minutes ago, when I first noticed it, there was a black car with tinted windows parked right in front of my house. Yes, I had been staring at it for fourteen minutes. I never thought I that would think that, but I was kind of wishing that my parents were home right then.

Wow, I sounded like such a pussy.

But to be fair, I was so out of shape that I couldn't even run for more than ten seconds at a time. Not to brag or anything, but you could never tell that just by looking at me. Anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah, the text.

I quickly checked my phone to see if Sam had so much as read my text. He had, and was now typing away. I never thought that I would have to purposely text Sam, but then again, I also never thought that I would be involved in some druggie shit.

My phone vibrated.

Druggie Douche:

Is it a nice and shiny black van with tinted windows and a small dent on one side?

I reached for the blinds like a madman, but then forced myself to stop and calm down. Carefully, I lifted the bottom corner and peered out. Sure as shit, there was a small dent on one of the side doors. I was starting to wish that I came from a religious family, because God was playing some sick fucking joke on me right then. Note to self: repent for my sins later.

Me:

If I could tell my past self something, it would be to never help your sorry ass no matter how fucked the situation is.

While he typed, I had managed to go from nervously looking out of the window, to sitting down on the couch, to bouncing one of my feet, to pacing. The whole situation was already doing numbers to my mental health, and it had only been a little over a day.

Druggie Douche:

Do you have a car?

Me:

Does my dad's car count?

Druggie Douche:

Do you have access to it right now?

Me:

Yeah.

Druggie Douche:

Are you home alone?

Me:

Unfortunately.

Druggie Douche:

I think it might be better if you just come to my house.

Then after a second.

Druggie Douche:

I gagged while typing that.

I don't know what I expected when I texted him in the first place. I guess, I just wanted someone to know that I might die in the near future. Plus, he had a much better understanding of what was happening than I did. It was Sunday, and I didn't recall seeing anyone outside at all the day before. Why then? And how do they even know where I lived?

At first, when I saw the van out of the corner of my eye, I automatically assumed it was Mille coming over to pester me about what happened on Friday. Which she had already been doing through calls and texts, but I managed to convince her to leave me alone until at least Monday.

However, that entire thought chucked itself into the bin when I realized that it was a black van, not a blue car.

After pacing around for a few more minutes, I decided that it would be best if I went to Sam's. Which I very much did not want to do, but I also didn't want to sit alone in my eerily quiet house while creeps watched me from afar. They may even end up doing something more than watch, and that thought terrified me.

Me:

I'm gagging right now too. Could you text me your address?

Thankfully, Sam didn't make me wait long before doing as I asked.

I went upstairs to my room and grabbed my charger, not knowing how long I would be gone. But that was all. The last thing I would have predicted was me going over to Sam's house, and yet that was precisely what I was about to do.

To say that I was scared to head out into my driveway would be an understatement. In fact, I was shitting myself just at the idea of it. What if someone ran out at me or followed my car? Bile rose up in my throat as I took a deep breath and pulled the front door open.

I pretended to not notice the black van and acted as normal as was possible when locking the entrance and then entering my dad's car. Every second spent in that driveway starting up the engine felt like an eternity. If they didn't end up killing me, then I was going to choke on the tension that I was sitting in and just die that way.

As swiftly as I could, and without raising suspicion due to my quick escape, I backed out of the driveway and onto the road.

As over the top as it may sound, my eyes wandered to the rear view mirror every few seconds to see if I was being followed.

When I was one-hundred percent sure that I wasn't, a huge sigh of relief burst out from my throat. I didn't even know that I had been holding my breath in the first place, but letting it out felt like a small victory.

Until I remembered where it was that I was headed. Then I started to become nervous. It wasn't that I was nervous to see Sam, I was nervous to see his house - his life. Because just like everyone else in that town, I was well aware of how expensive his life must have been.

So naturally, I was horrified at the idea of having to see just how lavish his life was in comparison to mine.

The longer the car ride lasted, the more I grew curious of the way that Samson Warner actually lived. I saw his car, and even though I was as clueless as they come when it pertained to cars, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that it cost more than all of my possessions combined. Which didn't exactly make me jealous, as much as it did annoy me. It was almost as though he was trying to show off.

When the neighborhood around me began to grow more pristine, I knew that I was getting close. However, when I found myself pulling onto the perfectly smooth concrete of a massive driveway, I had to take fifty double takes at the address.

I had the right place.

The house was a goddamn mansion, and everything imaginable seemed to be white. White flowers in perfectly trimmed bushes, white siding that seemed to be in a constant state of fresh, spotless paint, Sam's white car parked comfortably beside my dad's used black one. Did I mention that every window seemed to have a balcony? If there wasn't a pool in the back, then I didn't know what was real anymore.

Feeling more out of place than anything, I turned my dad's car off and prepared myself for what was awaiting me. Whatever that may be.

Slowly, I stepped out onto the white pavement and then walked up the rubber tiled steps. I didn't even know that those existed, the varying shades of light grey arranged in a checkered pattern.

I stopped at the door and pressed an over-the-top ornate doorbell. To say that the resulting chime wasn't extra as hell, would be like saying that Shrek wasn't the hottest man alive.

Very awkwardly, I remained standing before the door as I impatiently waited for Sam to open the door. The door didn't even make a sound as it moved on its hinges, moving as smooth as butter.

He was wearing a white long sleeve shirt with the word dull written in small font over his chest. However, dull was not at all how he looked. Fucked up, on the other hand, hit the bullseye.

Knowing him, he definitely did his hair to make it look messy before I got here, but his face went against any attempt to appear normal. The fresh reds and pinks from Friday, were all now blacks and blues. The one on his eyes was now slightly more faded than the one on his jaw. But either way, it looked awful.

"You going to come in or not?" He raised a brow at my staring, to which I just huffed in response.

As I headed inside, I muttered a quick, "You look like shit," Before looking around.

No words could properly describe that moment of awe spent when I initially took in my surroundings.

It was as though I had spent my whole life living a certain way, and that way never seemed to be a problem before. I had food on the table, a warm bed. But then there was the way others were living. By others, I meant the Warners, who lived in a beautiful mansion that seemed to even have expensive air within it. I was proud to have what I had, however, I couldn't help wondering if someone like Sam was. How could you be when you were that spoiled?

"Just how much money do you have?" I said exasperatedly, my eyes shooting around to take in as much as possible. I wanted to savor that moment for as long as I could, but when I caught Sam's expression in the corner of my eye, I refrained. "What?"

His snarky look didn't falter though, instead appearing very smug. "You look like you're in Wonderland or some shit. Just remember, there's no place like home."

"That's the Wizard of Oz, and also, you saw my house." I rolled my eyes. "It looks like an abandoned shed compared to this castle. Be honest, do you pay everyone to be nice to you? I don't know how else they could manage."

"Fuck off, it's not that big, you're just a drama queen." He rolled his eyes in return of my gawking.

"I know, but at least I will admit it." I smiled just to piss him off.

When Sam simply stared blankly back, I knew that it worked. "Anyway, feel free to sit somewhere in the living room."

I followed him out of the massive center room. A center room! It didn't even have a purpose, it was just there! What a life, being rich.

The instant I entered inside, I realized just how much Sam downplayed the so-called living room. It was ginormous, a massive flatscreen TV mounted to one wall, framed by some sort of gaming console and bookcases. A glass coffee table sat atop a speckled grey rug, and a ridiculously long wraparound white leather couch took up a large portion. There was what appeared to be an untouched matching ottoman, and pretty grey tables sat in designated corners. Decorative vases, and a bonsai tree covered the otherwise empty surfaces.

I instantly made myself at home and laid down on the couch. It even felt expensive, real leather that was clearly in good hands. If I said that I wasn't even the least bit jealous, I would have been downright lying.

"I said sit." Sam grumbled as he sat on the opposite side of the couch.

I looked at him and smiled wide, enjoying how far away he was from me. "The least you could do for me is let me get comfortable on your couch."

"Lest I remind you that you got your own ass into this." He chimed in.

I mimicked him as he spoke and pulled out my phone. "Lest I remind you that if you'd just gone to the police, I wouldn't have needed to step in at all."

"You still didn't need to step in." Sam snapped, a pissed off expression quickly appearing on his face.

I only rolled my eyes before opening Instagram. I wasn't very well-versed in the world of social media, but if I needed to kill time, I could spend several hours just scrolling around on some meme pages.

Then a question popped into my mind. "Are your parents not here?"

I watched as he shook his head, blonde hair moving along with it. He had his own phone in his hands, but he didn't seem to be paying much attention to it. "No, they like spending time at work."

I nodded. "Mine too."

"Okay, but when are yours getting home?" Sam inquired.

"I think five o'clock, they take the same shifts even though they work at different places." I answered reluctantly. I would definitely have to be home before they were, or else my dad would lose it. Mom dropped him off and picked him up for work everyday, claiming that it saved on gas. It most likely did. Sam nodded in understanding.

It got quiet right then, so I decided to move all of my attention to my phone. There wasn't a lot of new posts for me to find. Although, Millie had apparently posted a picture of us on Friday. We were in the booth before all of that shit went down. I was in the middle of eating a fry and laughing while she was sticking her tongue out. Looking at it made me smile.

"What's that look for?" Sam said amusedly.

I immediately dropped the smile and scowled. So much for a spark of joy. "Wouldn't you like to know."

He shrugged. "You looked pretty dumb, so I was just curious if you finally were opening up to me. Truly showing your truly dumb self."

"Aw, how sweet." I put a hand to my heart. Why the hell had he been looking at me to begin with? "You thought I would open up to you?"

"When pigs fly."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

We stayed silent for a long time. Both of us were sitting on the couch, staring at our phones. Every so often, one of us would make some sort of comment. As awful as it was, the whole scenario could have been a lot worse.

It probably wasn't too bad because we were hardly talking.

From where I was laying on the couch, I progressively got more and more comfortable. So comfortable in fact, that I turned on my side and I felt my eyelids begin to droop slightly.

Soon enough, my eyes shut altogether. I didn't even notice that I had fallen asleep.

Until I knew that I had a dream. I couldn't remember it, but I knew that I had one. Things were entirely black as the fragments of a nice dream began to disappear, leaving me with my waking thoughts.

Was it nighttime? At first, I couldn't remember where I was or why I was sleeping. But when I grew increasingly aware of someone watching me, I forgot the question all together. Suddenly, I was scared to open my eyes. Was it that tall man? Drake, was it?

"Sawyer." A hushed voice murmured, and I felt a hand nudge my shoulder slightly.

Oh, yeah. I was at Sam's house.

Why the hell did I fall asleep?

Hesitantly, I forced my eyelids open and was instantly met with Sam's gaze. He was standing above me with a weird look on his face that I couldn't quite understand. How long was I out?

"It's four forty-five." He seemed to read my mind.

I turned onto my back and rubbed at my eyes. When I opened my mouth to speak, a huge yawn lurched out of my throat, causing me to take an extra minute.

"Sorry for falling asleep." I mumbled, not really knowing why I felt the need to apologize.

Sam smirked and crossed his arms. "Oh, so now you feel the need to apologize to me? At least buy me a drink first." He seemed to really like to tease me, and if I hadn't been so used to it, I would have even thought that it almost sounded like flirting.

I huffed at his dumb joke and sat up. When I felt next to me for my phone but came back empty handed, my head shot around. Where did I have it last? Did I drop it? Quickly, I began searching around for any trace of the precious device. I only got a new one every five years if I was lucky, and my current one was only a year old. Though, it was still a few models behind. Dad would never replace it regardless of who's fault it was, he would make me fend for myself.

When Sam let out an exaggerated laugh, I snapped my gaze back to him. "Where is it?"

"You should have seen your face." He gasped out between laughs, pointing towards one of the pretty tables. To my relief, my phone with its black case was planted firmly on the surface, staring back at me as though in a mocking manner. "At some point you dropped your phone. So I, being the great person that I am, set it on the table."

I ignored him and instead went to make sure that he didn't harm my baby. As soon as the screen turned on, I knew that he didn't hurt it. I turned and saw his expectant eyes on me. I raised a brow. "I'm not going to thank you, if that's what you're waiting for." I couldn't help wondering where the catch was, so used to his shenanigans.

He frowned. "Why not? I not only saved your phone, but also offered you refuge in my home. That was not an easy thing to do. I almost threw up."

"Now you're definitely not getting a thanks." I decided.

"You're impossible."

"Why, thank you. I'm just the worst, aren't I?" I responded with great pride.

Sam nodded in agreement. Then, I remembered that I was supposed to be heading home.

"I need to get going." I said, heading fast for the front door. Within the blink of an eye, I was already inside of my dad's car, pulling out of the driveway. I didn't even bother listening to see if Sam had anything else to say. Why should I have cared even if he had?

I spared one last glance at the beautiful building that Sam called home, before returning to my far less lavish, yet still perfect in its own way, version of home.

I simply had to hope that the car would be gone by the time I got there.

•O•O•