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THREE MONTHS LATER
Goodbyes were one of Sam's least favorite things. She'd had trouble saying goodbye to her parents' graves after they were buried, she'd had trouble saying goodbye to her stuffed teddy bear that had to be thrown away after Corey had mutilated it, she'd had trouble saying goodbye to Mr. Clarke on the last day of middle school because he wouldn't be her teacher again.
Sam's had the experience of saying goodbyes, but that didn't mean she liked it. Every time she was required to, she was pretty sure a piece of her heart died a little inside.
She still couldn't say goodbye to Bob's grave. Or Billy's. Or Hopper's — who hadn't made it out of the pile of rubble that was once Starcourt Mall. Big, strong Hopper that made it out of everything was the one who didn't make it out this time. He sacrificed his life so Joyce could close the Gate.
Sam still missed him.
She couldn't say goodbye to them, so Sam didn't know how the hell she was possibly going to say goodbye to El and the Byers.
After everything they'd gone through, Sam didn't blame them for choosing to move. She really didn't, they deserved to be safe and happy and away from all of this, but Sam couldn't help but resent Joyce a little for sending two of her bestest friends 2,274 miles away to fucking California. Max tried telling Sam that it was fine, that California would be good for them, but Sam couldn't seem to accept the fact they were actually leaving.
She didn't react in August, when Will told her that Joyce confessed they were moving.
She didn't react in September, when Will and El told the Party they bought a house in California.
She didn't react in the beginning of this cool October, when they confessed their house here in Hawkins had sold.
It was a little startling to her friends honestly, because Sam tended to be an emotional person. She was an Empath, for fuck's sake — emotion was the whole thing. But Sam had only shrugged the topic off, procrastinating accepting it at all. She shrugged it off, the same way she shrugged off the ways she tried sacrificing herself back at Starcourt.
Not until the Party had a big sleepover in Mike's basement the day before El and Will were to officially move. That night, they'd all accepted it — they all cried. The Party watched El and Will's favorite movies, they shared their favorite memories, and finally — for the sake of poor Will — they played a final campaign of D&D.
The tears first culminated for Sam when El revealed to the other seven she brought a scrapbook she'd been making to document the memories of her first time having a life of her own. It was full of pictures that Sam wasn't even sure how El got. Some were when the original Party was young — really young. It was back when Sam wore bows in her hair every day; Dustin didn't have any teeth; Lucas was going through his phase where he refused to smile in pictures because Sam claimed it was "pretty;" Mike's hair was still being straightened by his mother; and the fringe of Will's bowl cut hung in his eyes.
Some pictures El, Corey, and Max were present for, though. Like the picture Stephanie had taken of Sam, Max, and El cuddling during that one sleepover over the summer against their knowledge. Sam had the same picture framed in her room. There was another picture of Corey reacting to a horrible joke Sam had made by throwing her into the community pool — Will had taken that one, so Sam assumed that he handed it over to her.
There was a picture of the Party on the night of Lucas's fourteenth in this very basement. Mike and Corey had been forced to sit beside each other on the couch while Will held a hand over Lucas's eyes and gestured for Sam and Dustin to bring out the collection of Atari games and Lakers tickets they had all chipped in to get him per Sam's request. Max was caught taking a finger dip of the frosting on Lucas's cake before they sang happy birthday to him.
They skimmed through the rest of the handcrafted booklet of memories — Sam and Mike covered in paint after a paint war Sam started on the last day of art class, Max laughing at Dustin busting his ass on her skateboard, Will posing with one hand holding a Sharpie and the other holding up a peace sign next to a sleeping Corey who had a mustache and glasses drawn on his face, Lucas trying to fit on El's pink dress she wore when they were twelve.
There was a candid picture — which Sam had never seen before — of Lucas trying to braid Sam's hair. The key word was trying, and Sam-in-the-picture was giggling because she didn't even have to look to know how bad of a job Lucas had done. She had smiled in remembrance of that day, but her entire expression dropped when she noted the ♡s drawn all around it.
Sam and Lucas stiffened, pointedly looking away from each other for a good bit.
There were much more pictures for them to look through, some not even including the Party. There was Jonathan and Joyce and Hopper (which Sam distinctly refused to look at) and Steve and Robin and Erica included here and there. The Party didn't stop until they came to the heart-wrenching end.
It was called 'Familey.' The word was written in big lettering that stretched across the last two pages of the scrapbook and it was misspelled, the pages were bordered with colorful little doodles.
When the scrapbook was done, it finally made Sam realized that their time together was coming to an unwilling, devastating end. She had burst out into tears, which made Dustin burst out into tears, and soon enough they were all crying. Even Corey, who avoided all emotion besides anger as much as he could.
To try and cheer themselves up, the gang put E.T. the Extra Terrestrial on Mike's dingy little television he kept in his basement. Unfortunately, though, no one got to see the end of the movie. All of them ended up falling asleep tangled in each other; a pleasant surprise to Karen Wheeler who took a picture before waking them up the next morning.
Lucas and Mike — the psychopaths they were — had fallen asleep sitting straight up on the couch. Lucas had a blanket draped over himself while Mike just let himself freeze. Although there was more room on the sofa, Sam was the only other one on the cushions. She had laid down onto the couch and fallen asleep with her head in Lucas's lap. Corey hadn't meant to fall asleep sitting next to Mike on the arm of the couch, but he had, and in the picture, he was curling up inches away from brushing against Mike. Max and Will both slept on the group with their heads using either side of Lucas's legs as a pillow, and El was lying across both of their laps. Dustin's entire body, somehow, was lying on top the back of the couch, sprawled out with one arm dangling on Sam.
It would be the last picture the eight of them ever got for a while.
One sleepover, and now they were all forced to face the inevitable.
Sam wished they had a million sleepovers, because now, she was helping pack the entire Byers household into one, simple U Haul truck. Years and years of memories into a puny vehicle that was driving thirty-three hours to California.
She was sat on the floor of the now-empty living room next to Lucas. There was a wall with cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other, and Max and Dustin were all the way in what used to be the dining room separated by more cardboard boxes. The four friends had volunteered to pack up everything that was left that didn't belong to Will, El, Jonathan, or Joyce personally.
"Oh, my god," Sam laughed as she picked up a small, square cassette tape that was scribbled on in her handwriting.
"What is it?" Lucas asked, trying to peer into Sam's side and read what she was looking at.
Sam shouldered him away with a mock-annoyed look before she explained, "One of my mixtapes. I must've left it here the last time we hung out at Will's."
"Let me guess," mocked Max. "Fleetwood Mac, Fleetwood Mac, Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, ABBA, Fleetwood Mac..."
Sam peered over a box to glare half-heartedly at Max.
"Since you love my music taste so much, Fleetwood Max, you can keep the mixtape," Sam said, and despite the awful pun for a nickname, she genuinely meant it.
Max pulled a disgusted face at the nickname while Lucas and Dustin cackled.
"Fleetwood Max," Dustin barked out a laugh. "I'm stealing that, Specks."
"If you do, Henderson, I will pluck out all of your curls individually."
"You didn't threaten Sam!"
"That's 'cause I'm her favorite," Sam grinned. Then, "Here."
She threw Max the mixtape, accidentally hitting Max in the shoulder rather than aiming it to her awaiting hands. Max fumbled to grasp it a little, but when she did, Max examined the songs Sam had written down onto the plastic.
"Huh," Max hummed. "Kate Bush. I'm impressed, Hughes."
Sam smiled at her with a smart-ass look. "And it's not all Fleetwood Mac. So, hah."
"You sure you don't want this?" she checked, raising an eyebrow.
Sam shrugged, going back to packing more items back into boxes. "Nah, I have enough of my own, anyways. You'll probably make better use of it than I did."
"That wouldn't be hard, you literally forgot it here," quipped Lucas.
Dustin snorted, and Sam looked back up from the current box she and Lucas were packing to shoot a challenging look towards Dustin.
"Something funny over there in the dining room, Henderson?"
"Just your music snob self, Specks."
Sam's brow lifted, and she snorted before she could even continue speaking. "You would know all about music, wouldn't you, Dustin?"
Sam got told all about Dustin and Suzie's little duet that happened when she was stuck in Starcourt Mall. It was something Dustin got made for constantly by the Party, so if Sam wasn't in the know right now, she'd have to be completely dense.
"Please don't," Dustin begged frantically as he knew where this was going.
Sam shared a look with Lucas. The boy next to her glanced back over at Dustin mischievous.
"Could you tell us all more about your music knowledge? We'd love to hear all about the never-ending story," Lucas put on a mock-genuine demeanor.
"Guys, I swear to g—"
"Turn around!" Sam and Lucas broke out into song. "Look at what you seeee...! In her face, the mirror of your dreeeeams...!"
Max broke out into laughter, as the joke never seemed to get old. She watched Dustin's miserable face with glee as Sam and Lucas sung together in the living room.
"Rhymes that keep their secrets — will unfold behind the clouds!"
"Wait—" Sam stopped them. Teasing Dustin, she asked, "Did we get that verse right? It's 'unfold behind the clouds'?"
Dustin deadpanned, "Yeah, but you're butchering it, so could you please stop?"
"So then join in, Dusty-bun," Lucas crooned, blowing Dustin a kiss.
Sam put her hands over her heart, pretending to swoon at Dustin. "Yeah, come on, Dusty-bun. Why don't you join us?"
"You guys are so funny," Dustin snarked in a monotone voice, "you should be on Carson."
"I, for one, think their performance is incredible," said Max, before she sent Dustin a wondering look. "Unless you think you could top that?"
"Shut up, Max."
"Can't we just hear your rendition?" Max asked.
"No."
"Please? Just one verse?"
Sam added, "Max and I missed it the first time. Come on, Dustin!"
"No!" said Dustin, thoroughly on his last straw. "No way. It's reserved for Suzie's ears and Suzie's ears alone."
Sam, Lucas, and Max shared amused eye contact.
Then—
"Turn around!" Sam, Lucas, and Max sang, changing the duet into a trio. "Look at what you seeee...!"
Dustin shot all of them the middle finger as Sam began adding claps, Lucas shimmied dramatically, and Max swayed annoyingly into Dustin's side.
"In her face, the mirror of your dreeeeams...!"
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"Shut up, guys!"
"RHYMES THAT KEEP THEIR SECRETS!" Sam, Lucas, and Max sang for the nth time. "WILL UNFOLD BEHIND THE CLOUDS!"
"STOP, GUYS! I'M SERIOUS — SHUT UP!"
Mike walked back into the Byers' bathroom, catching Corey's attention. He had left packing up the bathroom with Corey to go and chat with Will — the bond of the two best friends had been repaired and even strengthened after Mike apologized to him in the ambulance after they were escorted out of a burning Starcourt. Now that Mike wasn't pretending to be someone he was not, all of his relationships had improved, and he was resorting back to the good, loyal friend he used to be.
Corey knew Mike was going to miss Will (and El) more than he was letting on. Mike was like Corey in that department — like Sam said, they were both horrible at showing their true feelings. So when Mike panicked when he saw Will walk down the hall with the intention of bringing his D&D set to the donation box, Corey told him to go and talk to Will.
Mike sniffled when he came back, and Corey knew he wouldn't want to talk about it.
"How many more times do you think they're gonna sing that awful song?" Corey asked, trying to change the subject for Mike.
He smiled gratefully at Corey, despondent mood instantly brightening at the sound of Corey's voice. Corey tried not to blush.
"Until Dustin finally sings for them," Mike snorted.
Mike resumed helping Corey pack up what should be the last box of the bathroom supplies.
"So never," answered Corey for himself with a huff.
"Ever ending story," Mike added, because the inside joke was hilarious to everyone but Corey and Dustin.
Corey rolled his eyes, hands gripping either side of the sink. Shaking his head, he claimed, "You're so annoying."
"Yeah, but you like it," teased Mike, before he could stop himself.
Both boys stiffened. The bathroom fell into a silence.
Mike watched Corey's hands flex, gripping the ceramic sink tighter. He was going to try and save himself until he saw Corey opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to say something.
"What is it?" Mike whispered.
He set the cardboard box down onto the floor so he could take a step closer to Corey, and the gentleness of it all had Corey's entire heart melting.
"I..." his eyebrows pinched together slowly. "I'm waiting for you to realize you didn't mean any of what you said."
Mike's heart plummeted.
Corey cursed, backing away from the sink like he was in horror of what he'd done. "Shit — Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to — I don't know why I said that—"
"Why," Mike broke him off, taking a sad step closer, "Why are you always somewhere else? Why can't you just be here?"
A breath filled the tense silence ringing in the air. Mike was getting closer and closer and if he were to lean towards the magnetic pull, he could capture Corey's lips and let the temptation run through their dwindling inhibition, no mention of the summer, the past, the pool, or the rain. Desperation stirred in his chest until Corey's voice returned.
"Maybe I don't know how."
"You know how," said Mike, always talking like he knew Corey better than Corey did. "You're the one who kissed me first, Core. That has to count for something."
Corey muttered, "What if it just means I wasn't thinking?"
Mike took a final step forward, then grabbed Corey's hand in his. Corey's breath caught in his throat, feeling Mike running his soft thumb across Corey's rough knuckles. Both of them looked down at their intertwined hands.
"Are you thinking now?" he asked
"Yes."
"About this not being real?"
Corey looked back up at Mike in shock to find him already looking at Corey. His voice faltered with, "Yes."
A heavy exhale left Mike's lips with the staggered fall of his shoulders. His body deflated, but it still rendered him much-too tall. Corey was tall himself, probably second or third tallest — he didn't know, he and Lucas were around the same height — but compared to Mike he might as well be a goddamn gnome. Mike had sprouted up as they finished their last few months of middle school, and ever since then, he'd held it above their heads (literally) how much he towered over everyone.
Mike broke Corey out of his thoughts by squeezing Corey's hand.
"Does this always feel like that to you?" he questioned. "You're never happy, it's always... one more thing to be ruined like everything else?"
Corey pulled back from their contact to meet Mike's exhausted eyes with a look of despair. "That's not it at all. I promise you, knowing you has meant everything to me so far."
Everything.
The word returned, and echoed, and Mike searched his face candidly.
"You promise?"
"I promise," Corey said.
"Then prove it," he murmured.
Corey's eyes widen. "You can't be serious." His gaze rises up briefly. "Are—are you serious?"
Mike's eyes said that he was.
"What if I am?"
Corey began to lean way, always running away. "Then you're ridiculous. Now, Mike? Now? Why would I — What did you — Did you listen at all to what I said in that pool shed?"
Mike's eyes passed over him in slow consideration, and Corey's incredulousness was seen exactly for what it actually was. His chest rose and fell in shadowed rhythm with Corey. Closeness became of them again for a hot-breathed moment, almost obtainable, almost fracturing the calculated guard that covered Corey's face from the pinch of his brows to the set of his jaw.
"Stop thinking about El," Mike said, trying to dislodge the lump building in his throat. "You're not her. And I'm sorry for what I did to her, but I'm not sorry for what I said to you. Because I meant all of it. I'm not going to sit here and be miserable for the rest of our lives, pretending I don't have feelings for you, because I do."
A flighty rush escaped Corey as Mike seemed like he was being liberated by the release of words. Mike's breath picked up in a pattern of wingbeats that matched the cage in Corey's chest.
"God, I do," Mike sighed in relief, getting distracted in his own words. "And you — you keep pulling on me, and reaching for me. Even though you're telling yourself it's wrong, part of you wants to let this happen. I know it. I felt it. You kissed me with so much in you."
The stern edge of Corey's shoulders relaxed, and the tip of his brows softened his face all the same. Mike took both of Corey's hands in his own this time and tangled their fingers together, locking tight.
"So go ahead and push me," he breathed. "Push me all you want, Corey. I'm not going anywhere."
The rise and fall of Corey's short exhales blanketed the resounding silence. Corey's hand trembled, slipping from their shared hold, and light fingertips touched Mike's jaw.
"For now," Corey whispered.
"Yeah," Mike tilted his head into the tentative touch. "For now." And Corey's expression crumbled further. "But what if we can be happy here, and just be ourselves, see where it goes, even if this only lasts for a little while?"
In a clipped breath, Corey said, "It's not going to change anything."
"It's going to hurt us more if we don't try," Mike countered gently, and his hand is clamped down upon with unwavering force as Corey's eyes shut.
"You're too important to lose," is all Corey offered back in weak protest.
The words are soft, and they made warmth bloom in Mike's chest. He'd never been more determined to keep a person right here in front of him forever. Mike lifted Corey's hand and pressed a kiss of searing relief to his knuckles.
Against Corey's fingers, he mumbled, "Then don't lost me."
Corey's breath caught quietly. Mike lowered his hands down to gaze at the thawing struggle on Corey's face. Give in, a voice inside of Corey willed — it could be Sam's or Stephanie's or his own, but it was scary and it was raw.
"How?" Corey asked.
Mike breathed, "All you have to do is trust me."
"I do trust you."
Mike leaned back, increasing the distance. "You don't."
"I do," Corey repeated, gripping Mike's forearms to keep him close.
Mike let Corey keep him close, a softened smile lifting on his face. "Say it again."
Corey's eyes dropped to Mike's smile. "I do," he said again.
"You trust me?" Mike pushed.
"I—" Corey's voice wavered. "I trust you."
"I'll believe it when you mean it," Mike murmured. "So trust me, Core."
A stuttered breath was let out of Corey's lips, and he had never felt so frozen in place, so stared at. Corey always preferred hiding himself off, letting these parts of him go hidden from everyone's eyes. But here, right now with Mike, there was a burning desire in the pit of his stomach that wanted to show himself to Mike. He wanted Mike to see every part of him.
You're amazing for who you are, and you shouldn't ever want to hide it, and it devastates me that anyone has ever made you feel any different.
Sam. That little shit was in his head again.
"Trust me," Mike said one final time. "That's all we need to make this work."
Corey breathed in. He said, "Mike Wheeler," then breathed out. He continued, "I trust you."
He'd never seen Mike smile so bright. It was just as heart-warming as it was overwhelming. A part of Corey feared he was going to pass out on the bathroom floor.
"Right, well—" Corey pointedly looked away from Mike, trying to look for ways to escape the situation. "Now that we've both said what we've wanted to say—"
"I haven't said everything I want to say," Mike corrected him in a low voice.
Corey furrowed his eyebrows, "What else do you want to say?"
"I really want to kiss you."
Something swelled inside of Corey. It was better than anger and stronger than fear.
"Then kiss me," Corey breathed.
All thoughts flushed out of Corey's brain when Mike tugged him closer by the hold of their hands and placed a desperate kiss on Corey's lips. Their hands let go almost immediately, Corey clutching at his shoulders as Mike tilted Corey's head up with his hands on the sides of Corey's neck.
Soon enough, they fell into a rhythm of desperate passion. Mike's hands were trying to pull Corey closer, as close as he could, because they'd been staying away for long enough, and Corey's fingers smoothed up Mike's shoulders to run through his mess of raven hair. It was something he'd always wanted to do, even on the first day Corey met Mike — run his fingers through Mike's hair.
What was he ever afraid of in the first place? This was Mike, probably the second one to believe in him. Mike just — treated Corey like another person. That meant more to Corey than Mike would ever know.
Corey kissed him harder and thought You have my heart. You have my whole heart.
They lost track of time and eventually Mike had taken to being held against the wall—
"HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS SACRED!"
They sprung apart to find Dustin standing outside the doorway, gaping at them. Corey tried to hide his flustered face in Mike's shoulder, but it was no use.
"THEY'RE SUCKING FACE!" said Dustin loudly, turning away and streaking down the hallway. "THEY'RE SUCKING FACE, GODDAMMIT!"
Corey and Mike shared terrified eyes, because this was it. This was where it all came crumbling down around them. They would fall into nothing but cruel words and lonely lives and—
"DID YOU HEAR ME? THEY GOT TOGETHER!" Dustin was yelling as they heard his footsteps trample throughout the house — followed by a loud crash. "SAMANTHA, YOUR COUSIN IS PINNING YOUR BEST FRIEND AGAINST THE WALL!"
Another crash.
"GODDAMMIT!" cursed El.
And another crash.
"I WANT MY MONEY!" Sam shouted. "YOU ALL OWE ME TEN BUCKS!"
And another crash.
"SERIOUSLY, GUYS?" yelled Will. "YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED A WEEK TO GET TOGETHER?"
Corey and Mike slowly looked to eachother. Wait...?
"I CAN'T BELIVE I'M LOSING THIS BET TO SAM!" Max complained.
Oh, my god. Corey couldn't belive it.
"WHO LET THEM PACK UP THE BATHROOM TOGETHER?" yelled Lucas.
"ME!" yelled Sam.
"WHY ON EARTH—"
"YOUNG LOVE!"
The pair slowly exited the bathroom and the hallway to find Sam happily accepting everyone's money. It was absolutely mortifying. Corey had expected this devastation to come from being outed and bad reactions. He had not expected for all of his and Mike's friends to have been placing bets on when they would get together.
Sam winked at the two boys who were red in the face as she stuffed the money in her back pocket.
She was never going to let them live this down.
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No one was happy, anymore. As angry as Sam's friends acted when she won the bet, it was all light-hearted fun that not even Corey and Mike had gotten pissed about.
But now the U Haul van was packed up.
Will, El, Jonathan, and Nancy were leaving.
To California.
2,274 miles.
Sam was pretty sure she was crying harder than anyone.
"Don't leave," Sam begged through a sob, hugging Will as hard as she could. "Don't leave, Will, please. J-Just switch out with Corey. I have no issue sending him off to California."
Will choked out a dry laugh, hugging Sam tighter as he cried. "You know I have to, Sammy."
Sammy.
Sam cried harder.
Will was about to leave her. Her first friend Will, Will the Wise, sensitive Will, Will that took his shoes off at the front door even when no one was home to berate him, Will that loved the arts just as much as Sam did, her best friend Will.
"I don't want to say goodbye," Sam cried, refusing to let him go.
She didn't know when Will got so tall. When they were younger, everyone had towered over him. Now, Sam was the smallest of the bunch, and Will taller than her. He was so old.
They weren't kids anymore.
"You don't have to," he rubbed a hand up and down her back. "We're gonna see each other again. And I'm gonna write, okay?"
Sam broke out into crying coughs. She sniffled and pulled away.
"I'm expecting a monthly drawing, all right, Byers?"
"Then I'm expecting a monthly mix-tape."
Sam couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her face. This was so hard.
"Just — J-Just..." she tried to stop her face screwing up like she was in pain, but it do so against her own accord. "If one of your teachers mistakes one of your girl classmates for a boy... Please don't befriend her."
Will smiled, a broken wobbly thing. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"I love you," Sam sobbed, and she threw her arms around Will's neck all over again.
She could feel Will's body shaking underneath her hold. Will croaked, "I love you, too." Then, "But you're breaking my ribs."
"Good," she cried. "Then we'd rush you to the hospital and you couldn't leave."
"Sam, you've gotta let go."
But she didn't want to.
Then someone was tapping Sam on the back, and she glanced behind herself to see El waiting to say her last goodbye — Sam had been hogging Will for so long she hadn't gotten the chance to.
Sam cried harder.
She whimpered like she was in pain, removing her arms from Will and hooking them underneath El's arms. Sam buried her face into El's neck like she was the steady rock in the middle of a storm.
"I'll miss you," El muttered, voice broken and teary.
Sam's sobbing increased, and holy fuck, this was so embarrassing. "You don't have to leave," she offered. "Just switch out with Corey. I'll give him away for free."
"I don't think you can do that."
Sam continued bawling.
"No, I can't," she whined.
Will was her first friend, and El was her first girl friend. How was Sam supposed to cope with that? She had grown accustomed to seeing them both on the regular. Sam couldn't even a fathom a universe where she couldn't take a pit stop at Will's when he commed her saying his mom was making pancakes, or not being able to stop by for an entire weekend at El's after a long week of tortuous school.
"I'm gonna call you so much that your phone bill will be so expensive that Ms. Byers can't afford rent and you'll all be forced to move back home."
Home. Will and El were leaving their home. They were leaving Sam.
"I like that plan," El cried.
Sam let out a watery laugh, squeezing El impossibly harder.
Then, El admitted, "You're my favorite," and she had Sam breaking out into unintelligible sobs even more.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," Sam muttered continuously, definitely soaking the oversized flannel El wore that belonged to Joyce.
El sobbed, "I love you, Sam."
This was awful. This was probably one of the worst feelings Sam had ever experienced in her life, and she's been near-death multiple times. She had to continuously tell herself that this was for the better — this was for El's good. They needed the safety of California.
But in the process, Sam would be losing the safety of them.
"All right, it's time to go," Jonathan said, not knowing how to pry Sam away.
Sam whimpered, forcing Jonathan into a tearful hug before the teenager could do anything about it. Joyce had already gotten a ten-minute long hug, along with as many thanks as Sam could come up with in the time she had left.
Everything was going to change — she knew that in the cold silence that lingered as the remaining friends said the rest of their goodbyes. She knew that in the blank stares as they watched the U Haul drive away. She knew that in the empty quiet that passed between Sam and Corey, neither having a word to say to the other.
Everything was going to change.
The reckoning was coming, and they would all soon find that fate had a very twisted sense of humor.
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this was such a bittersweet chapter OOO LORD. maybe one of my favorites
it started off so light-hearted and then got. not lighthearted.
where do i even begin?
THE PARTY HAVING ONE BIG SLEEPOVER BEFORE THE MOVE. PERSONAL HEADCANON MADE CANON!
the scrapbook ;( 'familey' ;( everyone in the party being shippers of hughclair and sam is somehow STILL oblivious ;( them cuddling together on the couch ;(
SAM GIVNG MAX THE MIXTAPE AND KATE BUSH BEING ON IT I AM ILLLLLLLL. THE FORESHADOWING.
sam, lucas, and max singing the duet to dustin LMAO they're like a personal favorite trio of mine. can't wait to see more of them next season >:)
colorwheel getting together officially?? that was so pure of them. i don't want to see "they were out of character" the whole point of the softness was that they're developing and changing the less they try to hide from who they are!!! this is a good thing!!
but then dustin catching them LMAOO!?!??! the whole party running a bet on when they would get together AND OFC SAM WON THE BET BYE. she's like basically the reason they got together, and no, she is NOT going to let them live it down
but then they said goodbye :(
honestly picturing sam as a sobbing mess was lowk so funny but that's lowk exactly how i imagined she'd react in that situation. will was her first friend and el was her first girl friend. she's too emotional and has too many attachment issues for this shit
she even hugged jonathan BYE i bet he was confused
the last line tho... uh oh...
now we're onto season 4....
"NO JAYSAM BREAKUP THIS SEASON???" um. sorry. i told you s3 was not hughclair's season.
BUT!! I HAVE A REASON!! and i wil tell u it's because s3 there was so much chaotic upside down plot i couldn't fit in sam giving jay an ACTUAL good break up. bc (spoilers) when they do break up he WILL get what he deserves. and i tmay be happening sooner than u think.
s3 was not hughclair's season but s4 may be :))))
you'll just have to wait and see!!
now for the tweets:
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i've run out of tweets to add though OOPS should i make more??
also, please dont be a ghost reader!!
what'd you think?