Sam Campbell needed to escape, escape from her life, her messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks she couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known her and Cam, had known her shame and failure. So, she took the first job she could get, teac...
Sam had not had time for a full shower with the two girls waiting on her so she'd simply freshened up a bit. She washed her hands and face, reapplied her deodorant, added some blush and mascara, brushed out her hair, and changed clothes. Her favorite gray cardigan covered her arms over an olive green ribbed tank. Bending forward, she cuffed up the bottom of her jeans and then pulled on her Converse before bouncing back down the steps and onto the porch where Robin and Nancy sat waiting, just like they said they would.
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"Damn, that was fast," Robin commented, looking her over. "You clean up nice Prom Queen."
"Ugh, not you too," she grumbled, grabbing her purse and keys from the hook by the door, locking the door behind her and following the two girls to Nancy's car. "You know, I am not a fan of that nickname. I have not been a Prom Queen in almost thirteen years and believe it or not, that is not some great accomplishment in my life. I only got it because I was dating the most popular guy in school."
"Sorry, it's just so weird for me," Robin explained, sliding into the passenger seat as Sam hopped into the back. "A girl like me hanging out with a former Prom Queen goes against the most basic laws of nature. I was different and one of the most awkward people ever. We never would have been friends in high school."
"That's not true," argued Sam as Nancy turned the corner and pulled up in front of her house. She hadn't been kidding. They were right around the corner. Sam would be able to walk home and not have to bother anyone for a ride. She really needed to look into a car this week so she wouldn't need to bum rides off her new friends as she shopped for supplies to get her house together. "I wasn't a mean girl and it's all just stupid titles anyway. What does any of that matter in the scheme of things? Being Prom Queen never did me any good in life. Look at me. Thirty, divorced, starting over in a whole new town in a whole new job. All that high school bullshit and status doesn't actually mean anything in the long run."
"Maybe not now," Robin sang, stepping out and closing the car door behind her with a dramatic flourish, "but it mattered a hell of a lot then. I was a band geek. Steve Harrington was definitely not my friend in high school. We didn't become friends until after he graduated. There was no way we would have been friends then. Hell, he didn't even know who I was. When we got taken by...Scoops Ahoy. I mean, when they hired us for a job, I asked him about a class we had together and he could not remember me even being in that class."
"But you're friends with Nancy and, come on," Sam huffed, gesturing to her, Robin's little slip not lost on her. Taken by? Who referred to getting hired as being taken by a place of employment? "You can't tell me you weren't one of the popular crowd."
"Me?" Nancy snorted, shaking her head. "Not even close. I was kind of a nerd myself. I was on the school paper and the debate team. I was very studious. I didn't really party. That's why it was so shocking when the King of Hawkins High actually wanted to date me. And Robin and I didn't become friends until she started working with Steve. She was two years behind him in school and a year behind me. I didn't even know who she was, honestly."
