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tw: f slur
"Stephanie Hughes," cooed Sam, from her sister's doorframe. "My dear sister. My favorite sister. The light of my life—"
"What do you want, Sam?" Stephanie asked with a deadpan expression, turning off her Walkman.
Sam's false smile fell, and she wandered into Stephanie's room wordlessly.
"Get out of my room!" hissed Stephanie, slamming her Walkman down on her desk and whipping around in her swivel chair to face Sam.
In return, Sam sent her sister an innocent little smile, hands clasped behind her back and rocking on her heels.
"You know, I love you, right—?"
"Get out!"
Sam sighed, throwing her head back. Finally, she asked, "Can I borrow your quarters?"
"'Borrow'?" Stephanie repeated, raising an annoyed eyebrow. "Or steal so you can go to the arcade for an obsessive amount of time?"
Her sister gaped, wearing an offended expression. "Steph, I would never—"
"No. You can't," answered Stephanie abruptly. "Go ask Corey."
"Corey's going with us!"
"I still don't understand how that happened," Stephanie began, "but seriously. Get out of my room!"
As Stephanie shot up and began shoving Sam toward the hallway, Sam smirked back at Stephanie. "Why? Are you writing love letters to Ro—?"
"OUT!" yelled Stephanie, and then she slammed her door right in Sam's face.
Sam rounded around, finding that Corey was waiting right outside Stephanie's room for Sam. But, Sam had to admit, she already knew Corey was right there.
With a mischievous smile, she pulled her hands out of her jacket's pockets to reveal five quarters in each hand. Ten quarters stolen from Stephanie's room when Stephanie was too busy berating Sam to notice.
"All right, let's go before she notices," nodded Corey, showing ten quarters of his own — they had twenty in total. The Party was going to flip.
The cousins started to run out of the house, so momentarily blinded by their mission to swindle Stephanie that they forgot about one other hindering factor.
"Where the fuck do you two think you're going?"
Sam and Corey paused in their tracks, turning in unison to face Uncle Dan on the couch. The duo made eye contact, before their heads faced him again.
"Sam wants me to join football," rambled Corey, coming up with a lie quicker than he should be able to. "She's friends with someone else on the football team so we were gonna meet up with him and get some practice in."
Uncle Dan's eyebrows rose, and for a second, Sam was terrified he was about to rain hell on both of them — that he didn't believe Corey for a second. They were both stiff, and Sam could almost feel Corey's fear, radiating off of him in waves.
But Uncle Dan scoffed to himself, muttering, "Never thought I'd see the day your faggy ass is into football. Of course Sam The Slut's got another boyfriend up her sleeve. Ha!" Then, he began laughing, as if he'd just said the funniest thing in the world.
Sam's fists were clenched, and her glare was too focused on Uncle Dan to even see the face Corey was making. Although, when her cousin spoke, she could hear the hurt in his tone.
"Yup," responded Corey in a strained voice. "Thanks, Dad."
Then Corey turned again for the door, whipping it open harshly. Sam frowned, feeling horrible she didn't do anything, but it was more dangerous to speak up in this kind of scenario.
So, she just followed Corey out of the house.
Sam trailed after Corey, who was making large strides to their bikes.
"Corey, he's not—"
"I don't want to talk about it," snapped Corey, not even looking Sam's way and just throwing one leg over his bike seat.
Sam sighed, copying his actions but still trying to reach him. "But I want you to know—"
"Sam? Sam, Corey? You two together? You copy?" came Dustin's voice through Sam's Walkie clipped to her jeans. She internally cursed her friend for cutting in at the worst time, but held it up and just elongated its antenna, instead. "Lucas and I've got six bucks total. What's your haul?"
"Five bucks, dude," answered Corey, leaning into Sam's Walkie to be heard better. "You couldn't have waited to ask us this at the arcade?"
"Shit!" Dustin cursed through the line. "How did everyone find twenty quarters except for me?"
After internally doing the math, Corey snorted, asking, "You only got four?"
"It's okay, Dustin," Sam tried cheering him up while sending Corey a pointed glare. "It won't matter when we combine everything, all right? Just try checking on Mike. We're heading out right now."
In an exasperated voice, Dustin cried, "I've tried! He hasn't been responding to me!"
"Did you try that channel he's been on lately?" asked Sam, knowing Dustin definitely hadn't.
A beat.
"...No."
"Okay, well, try that," continued Sam kindly. "I don't know why he's always on it, but whatever. It's Mike."
"Yeah," he breathed immediately, getting what Sam was saying with just two words. "Thanks, Specks!"
"Stop calling me Specks—!" Sam tried complaining, but she heard Dustin's Walkie click off from the other line. She sighed to herself, clipping her Walkie back on her jeans. As she and Corey began riding for the arcade, she ranted to him, "He knows I don't have glasses, anymore. Why does he keep calling me that?"
"Technically, you do still have glasses," Corey countered. "You just aren't allowed to wear them outside the house. And you are wearing contacts right now, which... are a form of spectacles, so—"
"Okay, seriously, I don't need your smartass mouth right now, Corey. Thank you."
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Sam and Corey had eventually met up with Lucas, Mike, and Dustin along the way. The group of five rode together until they finally reached the Palace Arcade. All five kids began locking their bikes out front when they heard an engine run into the parking lot.
Sam turned her head to see Will coming into view, driven in the car by his mom. Since the events of last year, Joyce was amended on dropping off Will everywhere he went. Sam understood her caution, because what happened last year really changed everything. As much as she tried to hide it (knowing the worries could annoy Will endlessly), Sam was cautious with Will now, too. Joyce had expressed to Sam multiple times how much it meant to her.
Now, Sam threw them both friendly and ecstatic waves. The boys had done the same, then excitedly ran inside to start playing some of their favorite arcade games. Sam waited outside for him, though; hands in her pockets to try and evade the internal chill she felt almost constantly. Sam hated the cold.
"Hey, Will!" cheered Sam, when Joyce finally let Will exit the car.
Will returned her smile, lifting up a waving hand to respond, "Hey, Sam. How's it going?"
"Well, pretty good," she shrugged as they set into motion for inside the arcade. "My uncle thinks Core and I are at football practice, somehow."
Before Sam entered the arcade, she sent Joyce once last wave before Will opened the door to let them inside.
"Your uncle's an idiot," expressed Will, not really thinking that it would send Sam into an internal spiral.
'Samantha is a fucked up bitch who only hangs around boys like a slut!'
'Of course Sam The Slut's got another boyfriend up her sleeve.'
"I mean, I guess," Sam responded awkwardly, not even meaning to tense up so much. "I dunno."
Will stopped, having to do a double take at Sam's sudden change in behavior. "Sam, you know he's an idiot, right? Nothing he says is ever true?"
But what if it is?
"Yeah," she laughed out her lie, trying to brush Will's suspicion off. "Yeah, I know that. Sorry."
Will's face screwed up. "You don't have to be sor—"
"Come on," Sam interjected, eyes falling on her friends in the distance. "Before Corey spends my money without me."
The Palace Arcade was filled with various gaming machines and popping with different colors. While Sam and Will were away for mere seconds, they'd decided without them to start with the one game Sam loathed the most in the arcade.
A frown was held upon the blonde's face while she, Lucas, Mike, Corey, and Will surrounded the game Dustin was so eager to play. The game was called "Dragon's Lair," and the reason Sam hated it was visible. The cartoon princess depicted on the screen wore a tightly-fitted, black leotard which pleased many boys' eyes. Her long, blonde hair swished as she puckered her plump lips while Dustin began the game, clutching the controls.
"To slay the dragon, use the magic sword!" the princess explained as she swooned in a sexual manner, causing Sam to yet again roll her eyes.
Dustin began playing the game, and the Party cheered him on, yelling out different moves he should make. However, the sound of six voices yelling over each other caused Dustin to slip during the game and tell his friends to shut up. He lost, and his character turned to bones before collapsing on the ground.
"No... No! No!" Dustin shouting, slamming his hands on the arcade game. "I hate this overpriced bullshit! Son of a bitch! Piece of shit!"
"You're just not nimble enough. You'll get there one day," Lucas shrugged with a smug look on his face as he leaned his arm against the game. "But until then, Princess Daphne is still mine."
Dustin scowled, said, "Whatever. I'm still tops on Centipede and Dig Dug."
"You sure about that?" a familiar voice caught the attention of the six kids who turned to the source. Standing before them was Keith, who had a bag of cheese puffs in his hand. He was a high school boy who worked at Palace Arcade and — every time he spoke to them — annoyed the Party.
"Sure about what?" asked Dustin.
Keith munched on a cheese puff, and Corey was staring at him with that infamous judging look of his. He didn't respond to Dustin's question, but he didn't really have to, because Sam understood what he was saying. Her eyes were trained on Dig Dug in the distance, and when Dustin looked to Sam, he caught on, too.
"You're kidding me," Dustin muttered in despair, before pushing through his friends and running for the Dig Dug game. He maneuvered around other kids at the arcade, shoving them to reach it faster. When he reached Dig Dug, reading the scores he exclaimed, "NO! No!"
1ST — 751300 — MADMAX
2ND — 650990 — DUSTIN
3RD — 641183 — LUCAS
4TH — 620784 — COREG
5TH — 552415 — JKRACH
"751,300 points!" Will read aloud incredulously.
"That's impossible," muttered Mike, shaking his head in disbelief.
In awe, Sam said, "That's amazing!"
Not as impressed as Sam, Dustin turned away from the score screen and instead to Keith. He demanded, "Who's Mad Max?"
"Better than you," Keith laughed, ignoring how Dustin shot him with the middle finger.
Will pointed at Keith, asking, "Is it you?"
Almost offended, Keith responded, "You know I despise Dig Dug."
"You despise everything," Corey pointed out. "Just give us a hint. Girl or boy?"
"It's obviously a boy," Lucas declared confidently.
Sam swiftly turned on him, her arms crossed. "Why couldn't it be a girl?"
"Well, because girls aren't..." Lucas cut himself off as Sam arched an eyebrow, looking expectant for him to continue. "I-I mean, the chances of Mad Max being a girl is — um..." Lucas looked toward Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin, who all shook their heads. He dug his grave himself. Seeing no way out, Lucas turned back to Keith. Changing the subject, he asked, "Who is it?"
Sam shook her head unamused, but decided to let Lucas off the hook and turn back to Keith. She really wanted to find out who Mad Max was. And, hopefully, Mad Max was a girl she could befriend.
"Yeah, spill it, Keith!" Dustin snapped.
"You want information," Keith's head moved from Dustin to Mike, wearing a now-eager, shit-eating grin, "then I need something in return."
The Party's heads all shifted so that their attention was on Mike. Upon the sudden attention, Mike's eyes widened in realization. "No. No, no, no! No way! You're not getting a date with her!"
"Mike, come on," urged Lucas. "Just get him the date!"
"What?" Sam interjected incredulously. "Lucas, no! We can find out who Mad Max is a different way!"
Gesturing to her passionately, Mike said, "Thank you, Sam! I'm not prostituting my sister!"
"But it's for a good cause!" Dustin argued.
Nudging Mike, Corey shook his head scrutinizingly towards Keith. "No, don't get him the date, Wheeler. You know what? He's gonna spread his nasty-ass rash to your whole family."
"Acne isn't a rash, and it isn't contagious, you held-back, delinquent, wastoid!"
"Shut the hell up, Keith!" snapped Mike, standing in front of Corey now.
Pushing forward from Mike, now set off, Corey bit, "Oh, I'm a wastoid? She wouldn't even want to go on a date with you! You make, like, what? $2.50 an hour?"
"You're a fourteen-year-old in the eighth-grade—"
"And I can also beat the fuck out of you right now if you don't shut up—"
"Gray," Mike cut him off, holding Corey's sleeve and pushing Corey behind him again. He looked into Corey's eyes, urging, "Calm down."
Corey's head whipped towards Mike, guard up until he met Mike's eyes. It's like his breath stuttered out of him, and his shoulders deflated in the next moment—
A piercing cold flooded Sam's body, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her hand flew up to clutch at her chest, wondering what the hell was going on. Sam looked around wildly, wondering if anyone else was feeling this cold, but all she could piece together was that Will wasn't with them, anymore.
Fist still grabbing at her chest desperately, Sam stumbled around the arcade in search of Will. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong. When Will wasn't there, Sam flung open the door leading out of the arcade. She needed to breathe, and she couldn't do so. She had to get fresh air, somehow.
And then, there was Will. Finally, Sam had found him. He almost seemed paralyzed, staring up at the sky with the same fear that Sam was feeling herself.
"Will!" whisper-shouted Sam, hand falling limp from her chest when Will snapped out of it. His head whipped back to her, looking frightful. She asked, "Are you okay?"
For a second, Will seemed very disoriented. He tilted his head back up to the starry night sky again, almost searching for whatever he had his eyes trained on earlier. Warmth was flooding into Sam's body again; she could breathe, and no longer felt stuck.
"Yeah," Will answered hesitantly, now being able to peel his eyes away from the sky. "I just... I needed some air."
Breathing out slowly, trying to relish in being able to do that again, Sam nodded even though she didn't believe him. She put a shaky hand on Will's shoulder, muttering, "Come on. You're up on Dig Dug."
Will finally turned around to meet Sam's wary stare. She took her hand off of him in case that was what made him so unstable right now. Instead, she nodded her head towards the arcade and began leading him inside.
"Let's take that top score back, huh?"
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"Meet the human brain," Mr. Clarke said, putting down a model of it before them. "I know, I know. It doesn't look like much. A little gross even, right? But consider this: There are a hundred billion cells inside of this miracle of evolution. All working as one," he continued passionately, even though only Sam, Lucas, Mike, Will, and Dustin were paying attention. "No, no. I did not misspeak. I did not stutter. A hundred billion."
Sam sat in her desk behind Will. Corey was across from her — behind Mike — and behind Sam was, in fact, none other than Justin Zimmerman.
Yes. The Justin Zimmerman, to be exact.
When seventh grade ended, Sam was upset about not having that science class anymore, because it meant she could no longer stare at the back of Justin's head without being seen as a creep. But then, when eighth grade began, Justin asked her if he could sit behind Sam this year. He asked her that himself! He even chose not to sit by Carrie Cunningham for Sam!
Yeah. It was kind of awesome; even if Corey told Sam the only reason Justin did it was to cheat off of Sam on tests and quizzes. Some days, Sam was adamantly convinced that Justin wasn't like that, and that he actually enjoyed Sam's company. Other days... Well, Sam remembered their first, real conversation.
I wish I sat behind you. That way I could cheat and not have a C anymore.
Sam was choosing to ignore the fact Justin had an A this year. He totally wasn't using her. He wasn't.
Either way, Sam took notes of everything her teacher was saying, infatuated with the lesson he was giving. Science had always been Sam's strong suit; ever since a young age when Sam was taught that there was science in music, Sam was done for. That was, like, her two favorite things. Sam remembered running home and immediately telling her dad everything she learned word for word. He had listened to her, just as eager to her his little girl ramble.
Unfortunately, Mr. Clarke's lesson was interrupted by the classroom's door slamming open. On the flip side, a pretty, red-head girl was walking in, followed by Principal Coleman.
"Ah!" mused Mr. Clarke, stopping his lecture. "This must be our new student."
Principal Coleman nodded. "Indeed, it is. All yours."
As their principal began leaving the room, the new girl tried immediately heading for an empty desk. Mr. Clarke stopped her before she could get two paces past his own.
"All right," he called out, with a hand gesturing for her to stop. "Hold up. You don't get away that easy. Come on up. Don't be shy."
The girl scowled as she faced the curious faces of the young students, and Sam was definitely one of them.
Mr. Clarke looked to Dustin and gave him a nod. "Dustin, drum roll," he requested.
Dustin quickly shut his textbook, happy to provide a drum roll. He began tapping on it rapidly with much enthusiasm.
"Class, please welcome, all the way from sunny California... the latest passenger to join us on our curiosity voyage... Maxine!"
Sam was immediately in awe when Mr. Clarke mentioned California. Over there, they were in Pacific Standard Time, while over here, they were in Easter Standard Time! She immediately wondered how Maxine was adjusted to being three hours ahead of her usual—
"It's Max," she said.
"Sorry?"
"Nobody calls me Maxine. It's Max," she corrected him.
Sam's face fell as an epiphany hit her. She glanced over at the Party, who wore the same look and she assumed they were thinking the same thing as she was: Mad Max.
"Ah," Mr. Clarke mumbled, but quickly regained his joyful demeanor. "Well, all aboard, Max!"
Max made her way to the back of the classroom where an empty seat laid as the six pairs of eyes belonging to Sam, Lucas, Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin followed her.
"Hey," came the voice of Justin, under the impression Sam turned around to look at him.
Sam snapped out of the way she was staring at Max, to meet Justin's eyes instead. She smiled nervously back at him.
"Hi."
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"There's no way that's Mad Max," Mike decided, staring at Max through the fence gate.
Now that recess had begun, the Party took that as their opportunity to discuss what they thought of Max. Obviously, it made perfect sense for Max to be Mad Max, but some of them didn't think the same.
"Yeah," Will agreed, hands gripping the fence. "Girls don't play video games."
"Excuse me," Sam whipped her head to the side so she could stare at WIll instead of Max, offended.
Apologetically, Will met her stare, said, "Besides you."
Still unhappy, Sam just raised an eyebrow and trained her eyes on Max again. Sam still didn't have the best eyesight, but her contacts came in handy more than her glasses did. Max had red hair, blue eyes, and freckles that populated every inch of her round face. She was really pretty, Sam thought, and she even rode a skateboard which made her a million times more awesome. Plus, as much as Mike or Will said the opposite, she was totally Mad Max. Maybe, Sam could befriend her, and they could play video games together without any boys crowding Sam.
"I didn't mean she can't be Mad Max because she's a girl," said Mike. "I meant that no one can get 750,000 points on Dig Dug. That's impossible."
"You mean, 'improbable,'" corrected Sam, still wearing an awed smile. "She did get 750,000 points on Dig Dug."
Annoyed, Mike breathed, "No, she didn't."
"But her name is Max," said Lucas.
"Thanks for pointing that out, Lucas," Corey snarked sarcastically. "We had no clue."
"I mean," continued Lucas, side-eyeing Corey for a moment with a glare, "how many Maxes do any of you know?"
Mike shrugged, saying, "I don't know."
"Zero. That's how many," Lucas answered for him, sharing an irritated look with Sam.
"Yeah, and she shows up at school the day after someone with the same name breaks our top score?" Dustin pointed out, looking at Mike in disbelief. "I mean, are you kidding me?"
"Exactly!" Lucas exclaimed, still staring at Max through the fence. "So she's gotta be Mad Max. She's gotta be."
"You know, we could just talk to her," Sam pointed out the obvious, watching Max do an Ollie on her skateboard.
"Talk to her? Yeah, right," scoffed Dustin, while small chuckles were heard from Lucas, Mike, Corey, and Will. Rolling her eyes, Sam stepped away from the fence and began to retreat. "I think the obvious is clear. And plus, she skateboards, so she's pretty awesome."
Sam began leaving the area, deciding to get answers for herself. It was Lucas who finally pulled his gaze away from Max, calling out for Sam, "What are you doing?"
"Talking to her!" Sam called back, walking backwards to face Lucas while she answered. The boys watched Sam turn on her heel and head straight for where Max was.
She caught Max riding in a line idly, with her back facing Sam as she did so. As Max slowed to a stop, Sam said, "It's Max, right?"
Max turned around in surprise, picking up her skateboard as she did so. She eyed Sam with a scrutinizing stare that had Sam nervously rambling again.
"Hi. I'm in your science class," she explained while Max raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if you knew that, already. My name's Sam. Well, it's actually Samantha, but my friends call me Sam."
"By 'friends' do you mean those stalkers over there watching us right now?" Max asked, gesturing to where Lucas, Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin stood. As Sam and Max glanced their way, the five boys quickly turned around, pretending they were occupied with something else. "Yeah, they're pretty weird."
Sam smiled as she watched her friends. She said, "The best people usually are," catching Max off guard with her supportive response.
Max was looking at Sam like most people usually did — as if she was an oddity that Max couldn't quite understand. Sam was both comforted and troubled by the realization.
"Anyways, I just wanted to tell you I think you're super cool," Sam rambled. "Like, the whole skateboard thing, and the video game thing — You are Mad Max, right?"
"Yeah, that's me," nodded Max, seeming suspicious. "Does that make you Awe-Sam?"
Sam nodded, although cringing at the nickname. "Yeah, I sort-of hate it, but Sam is too short, so Lucas started putting my name in as that. Anyways — that's cool that you like video games, too! That's why my friends are staring at you. Don't mind them. Dustin's just butthurt you beat his score on Dig Dug."
Max laughed at that. "I can tell."
Sam lightened up at the fact she got Max to laugh, finally easing up a little. She asked, "So you came here from California?"
"Uh, yeah," shrugged Max, and Sam could sense a shift in her mood.
"That's so cool."
Max looked down awkwardly, saying, "I guess so—"
"I mean, what's it like being in Pacific Standard Time?" Sam wondered eagerly, looking at Max with an excited smile. Max completely paused in her tracks, because she was not expecting Sam to be so excited over the Pacific Standard Time. "I've only ever been in Indiana, so EST is all I know. Was it weird when you came here and were basically, like, thrown into the future? Like, technically, three hours of your life are just missing and now I bet your whole perspective of time has to shift—"
Sam was cut off by the sound of Max laughing again. This time, she's laughing really hard; so much so that Sam had to completely stop in her tracks.
"What?" asked Sam, trying to make herself look smaller, now feeling self-conscious.
"Since I've moved here," Max started once her laughter died down, although she sounded terribly amused, "everyone's been asking me about, like, the beaches and surfers and sunshine, but you're asking me about time zones?"
Sam breathed out a heavy breath, relieved she hadn't messed anything up. For a second, she thought Max was making fun of Sam, but this felt light-hearted enough.
"Technically, I am asking you about sunshine," Sam says with an assholish grin. Then, "But, just, like, think about. If you were in California right now it would be, like, 9 A.M. That's so cool."
"You tend to think a lot of things are cool," analyzed Max, still smiling at Sam. "A lot of things that aren't actually cool."
She's referring to herself, Sam realized very quickly, because she's very good at spotting this kind of stuff. She decided then that she was going to be best friends with Max whether Max wanted to or not.
"Nah, you're gonna find out that I'm basically a certified genius," teased Sam, waving a hand as she pretended to be boastful. "I'm always right about these kinds of stuff. Time zones are cool, and so are you."
Max shared Sam's smile, picking up her skateboard. "Oh, I'm very sure, Samantha."
"You should be, Maxine," Sam grinned, watching as Max pulled out a sheet of looseleaf and started writing on it. Tilting her head, Sam asked, "Hey, what's that?"
As Sam uttered the question, a mischievous smirk overtook Max's face. Max folded up the paper and put her marker away.
"You'll see," said Max, before throwing the crumpled piece of paper into the trash can below. "I've gotta go, but I'll see you later, all right?"
"All right," Sam nodded back at her with a friendly smile. "Bye, Max!"
Catching Sam's attention next was the sound of footsteps running toward her. She turned and saw that Lucas, Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin hurried their feet to the trash can. Upon reaching it, Sam held a disgusted frown as Dustin dug through the trash. She joined the boys, despite the disgusted looks from bypassing students.
"Okay, you guys are so disgusting," Sam informed them, a tone of disbelief in her voice.
Lucas swiveled his head to Sam incredulously. "How do you manage to talk to literally everyone?"
Shrugging, Sam said, "She's cool." And then, like being struck by a memory, Sam added, "Oh! She also is Mad Max, by the way. I asked her."
"Got it. There we go," said Dustin as he pulled himself out of the trash can, with Max's crumpled note in hand. The rest of the Party circled him as he began opening the note while Sam and Corey just stood to the side and shook their head at each other in disbelief.
The other four frowned at the words written on the page, voicing the scrawled letters to themselves quietly. "'Stop spying on me, creeps.'"
Corey snorted and slapped a hand over his mouth to repress it when two of his friends shot him a small glare, sharing a humored smile with Mike. "I fucking told you!"
"I like her," Sam intoned with an amused smile.
"William Byers," the sound of Principal Coleman's voice caught the attention of the six party members who turned around. "Your mother's here."
Will had left with Principal Coleman, while Sam, Lucas, Mike, Corey, and Dustin moved up the stairs and onto the landing, having a view of the front of the school. The group remained quiet, the way it always got when Will had to leave so Joyce could take him to his appointments. The silence was another reminded of everything cruel that happened last year, hanging above the Party like bitter air. It didn't take long until Will's figure stepped out of the school doors.
"You guys think he's okay?" Dustin broke the silence.
"He's always weird when he has to go in," Lucas said.
Sam shook her head, disagreeing, "It feels... different this time."
A piercing cold flooded Sam's body, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her hand flew up to clutch at her chest, wondering what the hell was going on. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong. She needed to breathe, and she couldn't do so.
"Yeah," Mike said, on Sam's side. "He's quiet today."
Corey sighed. "He's always quiet."
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Sam had a habit of not going home after school, anymore. So much so, that Corey didn't even wait for Sam once school ended, anymore (because, yeah, he was nice now).
It kind of all happened on accident. Sam's Walkman broke, so she visited the local Radio Shack to buy a new one. From there, she did what Lucas said Sam did best — talk to people — and befriended the newest owner of Radio Shack who had recently moved into town.
Bob Newby.
Despite what she heard a lot of people say about him, Sam thought Bob was cool. He was a technology genius who literally owned Radio Shack. That shit was like Sam's dream. Once, he even showed Sam a radio he had built himself.
Exactly. He was awesome.
Not only that, but he was Joyce Byers' boyfriend now (as Will had told her). That could make him, like, Will's stepdad, and then Sam could be at their house more to bother Will and Bob. Two birds with one stone, thought Sam.
"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Newby! I wasn't there when the AV room was finally redone, so Mr. Clarke showed me today!"
Sam stood on her tippie-toes to try and spot Bob up at the Radio Shack counter before she started browsing around the store. It was kind of pointless for her to be doing this, since Sam browsed the store basically five days a week and everything was the same.
"You don't have apologize, Sam," she heard Bob laugh from the counter. "Or call me Mr. Newby."
Sam winced, saying, "Sorry, Mr. Newby — I mean — Shit — Shoot! — Sorry — Fuck! — Oh god — Sorry — I mean — Not sorry, Mr. N — Mr. Bob!"
She sighed, cringing to herself. Sam hesitantly exited out of the aisle, revealing her reddened face to a very amused Bob.
"Pretend you didn't hear that?" Sam said, really hoping he would.
Bob winked at her kindly before asking, "Hear what?"
Sam's lips quirked up into a smile. She pushed her embarrassment aside to walk up to the counter; although, Sam had to stand on a bar protruding from the counter just to be able to see over it.
"How's today been?" Sam asked conversationally, crossing her arms on the counter to help grip on.
"Slow," Bob answered with a contemplative tilt of his head, "but good. How's the AV room looking?"
Sam pressed her lips together, thinking. She said, "It looks the same as before, just without the Heathkit. So, basically, horrible. I miss the Heathkit."
"I can tell," snorted Bob, because Sam had ranted about missing the Heathkit a multitude of times.
He typed on the computer for a little longer, Sam analyzing him do so in fascination. She stretched her body up as much as she could, craning her head to watch as Bob modified Radio Shack's database using BASIC. It was a computer programming language that Bob had taught Sam a couple months back. It was really cool, and was used for things like rebooting computer systems, overriding security codes, and — what Bob was doing now — alter inner databases. Sam knew how to do it, but didn't actually own a computer, so could only use BASIC when Bob let her on Radio Shack's computer.
Bob stopped typing on the computer finally, peering at Sam curiously. She looked away from the computer to meet his stare.
"You know," he started curiously, "I actually founded the Hawkins Middle AV club?"
Sam's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She was so shocked that her foot's grip on the ledge slipped, and Sam fell from the counter. Bob looked concern, but Sam was popping right back up with an awed look.
"Did you really?!" wondered Sam, surprised.
Bob's frown shifted into a smile, and he nodded. "Yup. Sure did. I taught Mr. Clarke everything he knows about Audio-Visuals."
"No way," Sam shook her head with an open mouthed smile. "You are so cool, Mr. Bob."
He chuckled, watching Sam with an odd look. "I'm glad you think so, Sam. You might be the only one."
Sam just waved her hand dismissively. "No, I'm basically a certified genius about these kids of stuff. You're definitely cool."
Before Bob could comment on that, Sam's eyes fell beyond Bob and instead to what was hidden behind him and the counter.
With wide eyes, Sam exclaimed, "Is that a new turntable model?"
Bob looked confused, before looking behind him and being struck with a realization. He huffed at Sam's excitement, nodding to her again. Bob explained, "The Belt-Drive Automatic, actually. It has a cover-mounted tonearm and programmable repeat."
"You don't even have to touch the tonearm?" Sam said, utterly disbelieving.
Bob shook his head, with an amused smile.
"Holy shit — I mean... wow," Sam commented, and Bob laughed. She eyed the new turntable again, then back to Bob. "How much is it?"
Unfortunately, Bob answered, "$160," but Sam was expecting a high price.
"Damn," Sam breathed, even if she knew it was definitely worth that much. She joked, "I better start saving up then, huh?"
"An employee discount would make it $128," Bob said with a wink. "Maybe one day?"
Sam nodded vigorously. "Oh, definitely one day."
◦☆＊★ ━━━━━━ ★＊☆◦
I PRESENT TO YOU THE SAM AND BOB DUO I ADORE SO HEAVILY!!
i totally created this duo because sean asten is samwise. and sam is. well. sam.
they're totally NOT going to break your hearts and i totally did NOT hint some foreshadowing of where sam is going to be later in the season. so. definitely don't look into that
also
MAX!!!!!!!!!!!
i'm so excited to write the sam and max (samax, if you will) duo. they are probably my 2nd or 3rd sam dynamic (1st being hughclair and mike+sam being a high competitor with samax)
anyways, welcome to season 2! we're in for a... ride.
what'd you think?