[a/n] just a little foreword, there’s been a bit of confusion about where vienna’s going and I think I’ve accidentally said san Francisco but its actually los angeles. Sorry for the confusion.
Samantha is on the side; portrayed by Shelley Hennig.
Song on the side is "Lay me Down (Acoustic)" by Sam Smith. I thought it fitted.
- - -
Elliot hadn’t spoken a word to me ever since I talked to him and that was over three hours ago. Not like anyone was keeping record or anything, but that was by far the longest we’d gone without speaking to each other while we were both awake. All throughout the ride, whenever I wove in and out of a broken sleep, my words just kept echoing in my head. What I said changed everything, and knowing it was my fault, that it was because of no one else but me, made me want to hurl myself out of the car into I-15.
This was honestly ripping me apart from the inside, making me question if I was right to do it or not. Maybe making a heroic decision wasn’t for me. I wasn’t a hero. Now it was 3:16 AM, it was dark and starry outside, and the pickup truck was making groaning noises that resembled how I felt. Elliot was looking straight ahead, never once breaking his gaze off the road, and sure, maybe that was what he was supposed to do being the designated driver, but for once, I just wanted him to turn and look at me.
He didn’t.
The radio’s volume was on high, but I noticed he had turned it down a notch after I slept. Or maybe it was just my imagination.
As I slumped against the cold, frosted window, I saw the green blur of a road sign, quickly reading that we were crossing into West Covina, just miles from Los Angeles. I didn’t know if Elliot was going to drop me off at my house, or stop at his, or go directly to the hospital. Maybe he would ask where I preferred to go, maybe he would actually speak a word or maybe even a grunt, if I was lucky.
The Ford suddenly became too cranky, and Elliot started to exit the interstate silently, pulling into the nearest Shell gas station. It was relatively empty, except for the cashier inside the store, and thankfully, there were no corn stalks in sight.
Elliot started to get out of the car, digging into his pocket with what little left we had of Uncle Terrence’s borrowed cash. It shouldn’t have been that much, considering we were less than thirty miles away from both Bell Gardens and Los Angeles. This trip would be ending soon, and by the looks of it, I wouldn’t get the happy ending that every road trip deserved.
I stayed in the car, looking away as Elliot pumped gas into the truck. He opened the driver’s door to turn off the car, and I could feel his eyes on me.
“I gotta make a phone call, I’ll be right back,” he suddenly burst out. I was so surprised, I flinched at his voice. I’d forgotten how raspy, how longing it sounded. I only nodded, and he closed the passenger door, his words being temporary and weightless.
I already know it was to call Samantha. I just didn’t think it would’ve bothered me.
Of course he’s going back to her. I hurt him. Why would he ever stay with someone he can barely stand to talk to? I thought bitterly, biting my lip in frustration.
I watched him walk around the front of the car, the headlights illuminating the hollowness of his eyes. I had completely forgotten to ask if he had wanted to switch drivers, but he would probably have just ignored me anyway. As I watched him cross over to the telephone booth near the entrance of the gas station store, I almost felt a sense of anger rush through my veins.
How could he be so childish? Why couldn’t he say anything? I know that I had hurt him, and I already told him that it killed me inside, and yet, he offered me nothing. Not even an argument for me to work with. I thought he was better than that, but maybe I was wrong. Either way, I was desperate for him to say something.
I could feel him slipping away from me, bit by bit, little by little.
Suddenly, I saw Elliot break into a sprint, dropping the telephone and letting it dangle by its cord. He ran across the car and quickly got into the truck, a flushed and horrified look in his eyes.
“Elliot? Elliot, what’s wrong?” I sat up straighter, as he jammed the keys into the ignition and started the car fast.
“We’ve got to get to the hospital,” he said, his voice trembling. His hands were shaking, and he couldn’t get a firm grip on the wheel.
“Why? Did something happen?” My stomach instantly sank right down to my toes. I twisted around so that I could look at him fully, ignoring the way the seatbelt dug uncomfortably into my skin.
Elliot shook his head, and in the process of pulling out of the gas station, he almost ran over a newspaper stand.
“It’s her, it’s S-Samantha. Her mom said she’s doing a lot worse.” Elliot’s breathing became staggered, pressing down hard on the accelerator. We were flying down the backroads at fifty when it was only supposed to be thirty.
“No,” I whispered. “But y-you said she was doing better—“
"Well now she’s not."
"But her mom said so. When we were on the phone, she told me she was al--" I stopped in my tracks, because I knew it wasn't true. Back in that gas station in Las Vegas, when Elliot had asked me to phone Samantha's mom, the call had gotten cut off, because the pay phone needed another quarter. Her mother could've said anything about Sam. Whether she had gotten better, or worse.
"What? Vienna, what were you going to say?" Elliot stared at me as long as being the driver allowed.
I shut my mouth, "Nothing."
"Vienna, tell me," he demanded quietly. "Did Sam's mom say anything to you about her condition?"
For the sake of Elliot, I couldn't tell him. I just couldn't. Shaking my head, I said, "Samantha's mom said she hadn't changed."
"Damn it," Elliot cursed, shaking his head, and slamming a fist into the steering wheel.
His tone was angry, full of rage and regret. He was back to being the sobbing mess that I had stumbled upon in that hotel hallway, what seemed like eons ago. He became the boy who broke down in that FedEx truck, unable to control himself.
And honestly, I hated this Elliot.
“Elliot, you need to calm down,” I said, as gently as I possibly could. “And you need to slow down, unless you have the cash to pay for a ticket.”
Elliot glanced down at the meter and slowed down, but once we got back on the interstate, he bobbed and weaved through the cars and sped down the lanes like a madman. I knew for sure we were going to get pulled over, once again. But miraculously, no police sirens came to pursuit us, even if Elliot was going fifteen miles over the limit.
“We should never have stopped in Vegas,” I could hear Elliot muttering. “What a waste of time.”
“A waste?” I echoed, trying hard to push away the wounded feelings, but it was difficult. It was so easy for him to push it all away, it seemed. And that hurt like hell.
Elliot’s face softened, but he whispered, “Yeah. A waste."
I could feel the backs of my eyes starting to burn, and I turned away, feeling weightless as we sped through the night, towards Elliot's dying firstlove, towards the end of our road trip.
* * *
We arrived at the hospital in about ten minutes, when it should've taken us normally about thirty.
Once we got there, Elliot nearly jumped out of the car, and I could only do so much to keep up with his long strides. With every step, my confusion increased and I feared for the worst. Even if I wanted to have Elliot, I wouldn’t want his first love to die. Maybe she wasn’t innocent to Elliot, but she did mean a lot to him. I didn’t think I could stand to see Elliot so devastated. Not again. Just because I would never have him, it didn’t mean I would ever stop caring about him.
When we entered the hospital, I was slapped with the overwhelming scent of antiseptic. This wasn’t like the time I went to the hospital with Eli to see his mother. This time, I was frantic, and just struggling to keep Elliot from collapsing on himself. The sense of panic was increasing within me, just reminding me even more of how much I despised hospitals.
Elliot guided me through the lobby and promptly asked Samantha’s room at the front desk. The lady seemed to read between the lines of emotion and horror in Elliot’s eyes and quickly gave him the room number without all the hassle of questions or paperwork.
“Come on,” Elliot urged me, as he guided me to the elevator. “Maybe we’re not too late.”
“We won’t be,” I touched his shoulder, trying to muster up any sort of bravery I could. But I wasn’t a hero. Never was, never would be.
He just looked straight ahead at the silver doors, willing them to open, willing Samantha to pull through. He closed his eyes, and looking down, I saw that his knuckles were bare white with how tight he was clenching them.
We'd been in elevators together numerous times during this trip, and the moments have always been memorable. But not like this.
I was baffled at how confusing this boy was. Guys say girls are confusing? Elliot puts those girls to shame. At one point, he was kissing me in a Vegas casino; another he was pissed to hell at me, giving me the cold shoulder plus the silent treatment; and now he’s about to break down over his cheating girlfriend.
But instead of raging about him, I tried to see it in his perspective.
He’s loved Samantha for years, through thick and thin, and all she’s given him is unfaithfulness and more reasons to doubt their relationship. Why is so hooked on her if all she’s done is hurt him?
Without thinking, I slipped my fingers through his. At the touch of my hands, I could feel him flinching, but he unclenched his fists, letting me slip my hand in his. As I held his hand, looking straight ahead at the silver doors, I instinctively squeezed it promptly. I tried to ignore the small current of electricity that ran through my fingers when we touched.
“Just because of what I said in the truck, it doesn’t mean I won’t…,” I faltered, grasping at the words but only feeling them slip away, “—I won’t, uh…”
“I know,” Elliot whispered, threads of hurt and contentment hidden in his voice. “I know.”
Maybe I wasn’t brave or heroic or daring, but this one time, I allowed myself to be and looked up, only to find him already looking down at me with those grey-green eyes that grew on me while we were together this week. They held a certain amount of bitter sadness that I couldn’t take away. I would never be able to; hell, I just added more. I felt the redness come flourishing up to my cheeks and instinctively looked down, just as the elevator opened with a ding! at the sixth floor.
It opened to a small waiting room, where a lone woman was sitting down in a chair, wringing her hands.
“Mrs. Marshall,” Elliot called out, and sensing that this had to be Samantha’s mother, I quickly let go of Elliot’s hand.
The woman looked like she’d been here a long while. Her hair, previously in a bun, was strewn around her hair like a chestnut halo, and as we approached her, I saw that her clothes were wrinkled and her eyes were bloodshot.
Just with a one look, I could tell something went wrong.
“Elliot!” Mrs. Marshall brightened, and stood up, embracing Elliot like it was the end of the world. Her tiny, skinny figure gave the effect that she hadn’t eaten for days. “Thank God you came!”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Marshall, I would’ve been here in a day, but there were just some detours along the way,” Elliot apologized politely.
Yeah, one of them was running into me, I thought.
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters, to me and most importantly to Samantha,” Mrs. Marshall said, her eyes shaking. She clung onto Elliot’s arms for dear life, as if any second now, she would fall to the floor in fatigue. In a sudden, she looked past Elliot and saw me. “Oh, who’s this?”
Elliot turned around to me, and his eyes weren’t as warm as I remembered. They were empty. “This is Vienna… one of my friends.”
“Hi,” I politely waved, offering her my hand.
"Hello," Mrs. Marshall greeted flatly, her eyes flickering warily between Elliot and I. Instantly, she turned her attention to Elliot. "Do you want to see her? She's been waiting for you, and I know you two aren't on the best of terms right now, but you should go see her."
They weren't on the best of terms?
Elliot nodded vigorously, "Of course."
He turned to me, obviously wondering where he should put his charity case, now that he's back into his regular life. But I was already shaking my head, "Go. I'll stay here and wait for you."
His gaze lingered on mine for what felt like years, before he shook head and surged forward. "No, come with me."
"Elliot," I whispered, looking to Mrs. Marshall.
"No, I need you for this," he whispered, dead serious and looking straight at me. How is it that a pair of grey green eyes had the dominant power to make my legs turn to mush? It was supernatural.
"U-Uh, okay. Okay," I stammered, nodding. "I'm here for you."
I let him lead me to Samantha's room, with Mrs. Marshall offering me a small, stagnant smile. "She's a bit weak, but I'm sure she'd love to meet you too, Vienna."
I could only offer a weak smile, knowing how wrong she would be. In fact, I almost feared meeting the ever-mysterious Samantha. Did I really have the honor to meet the very girl that brought Elliot to a near mental breakdown?
But the door to her room was opening before I could change my mind, and Elliot went in first, so I had no choice but to follow.
The only thing that stood out other than the thirty-two pink "Get Well Soon" balloons and the garden of flower bouquets was the girl sitting in the hospital bed. Her eyes were closed, her head bandaged, and her brunette locks seemed to be perfectly arranged in precision around her porcelain face. She would've been the perfect Sleeping Beauty. Even asleep and damaged, she gave off that aura that told anyone that she was irreplaceable.
When Elliot's footsteps came into the room, her eyes opened as she took him in. She took in a little gasp of air, before she started crying. No warning, no preparation; just straight up sobbing.
Elliot surged forward and instantly embraced her, and her weak arms enveloped him, her sobs growing louder by the second.
"Elliot, I'm so sorry, I'm really really sorry, for everything I've ever done to you," she sobbed into his shirt, repeating the same montage of the same words. It was all so sudden and overwhelming, and it was hard to image what it was like for Elliot. I was alone in the edge of the room, feeling like an outsider, someone looking in. I swallowed, feeling a strong urge to get out but an even stronger one to stay.
What the hell was Elliot thinking, bringing me here? Was this a form of torture, his way of getting back at me for what happened in the Lotus Casino? Because watching the boy you loved reunited with the girl he loved was killing me inside, ripping me apart gut by gut.
I had to look away, fixing my gaze on a helium balloon in the corner of the room.
"I forgive you, I forgive you," Elliot muttered, threading his fingers into her hair.
"I've been horrible to you," I could hear Sam say. "I've acted like a complete btch."
Elliot started hushing her, and the pair fell into a silence before Samantha's eyes wandered off into the unfortunate corner to where I was residing. She jumped a little bit, and tapped Elliot twice on the shoulder.
"Who's she?" she asked, partly with curiosity and mostly with animosity towards the person who shattered her reunion with her boyfriend.
It took all of my willpower, or what was left, to pull on a smile.
"Hi," I said quietly. "I'm Vienna -- Vienna Dawson."
Elliot pulled away from Sam's tight grip, wiping his eyes quickly with his sleeve before turning to me. "Uh, Samantha, you know how I've been on a road trip to reach you? From North Carolina?"
Samantha's head turned from me to Elliot, and she nodded small.
"Well, I ran into a really good friend of mine there, and we go way back. Like, elementary school, way back," Elliot let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes torn between which girl to look to. "And she was in need, so I drove her out here to meet you, and so she could get back to her gradation on time."
Samantha took this in, turning her gaze to me with a straight face that made it difficult to tell whether or not she wanted to kill me or be my friend.
"Hello, Vienna," Samantha said softly, weakly. She laid back on the bed, bringing a hand to her bandaged head and groaning softly, before saying, "It's nice to finally meet you."
I stepped forward, taking cautious steps. "Finally?"
"Elliot's talked about you a lot on the phone, back when they said I was well enough to walk around and talk on the phone and such," Samantha said, trying to smile. "I guess I just forgot. But how could I forget, you know? Vienna's such a pretty name. You never hear it around here. It's very pretty."
Samantha, I had thought days ago, what a pretty name.
She was warm and inviting, and that was only my first impression of her. She tried to smile despite the fact that she was pale enough to match the white bedsheets, and I wondered if this was the same girl who cheated on Elliot three times. She seemed too... kind.
Elliot smiled, adding, "Vienna's come through for me, a lot. She's the one who helped me get to you. I really do owe her."
I locked glances with him for a few seconds, but being unable to quell the overwhelming urge to cry, I had to look away at the numerous balloons lining the wall. It would be foolish of me to think that Samantha didn't see that. And of course she saw it.
Would she ever know about our kiss?
Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted when Samantha started coughing. And then she started to sound like she was choking, hacking uncontrollably. Elliot immediately surged forward, rubbing her back and already looking panicked.
"Sam? Sam," he kept on saying.
She waved him off, still smiling. "I-I'm fine, just a couple of coughs. But I am a little thirsty."
Before I could volunteer to get out of the room, where I felt more and more like a stranger each second, Elliot beat me to the punch. "I'll go and get you some water, alright? I'll be right back," he glanced at Samantha and then locking his eyes with mine, as if pleading me to keep Sam company. His eyes becoming an all too familiar sight, it would be hard to forget them.
Samantha and I were alone in the congested, slowly-suffocating room, and I itched to get out. It wasn't like I was welcome here. I practically encouraged Elliot to cheat on her, and I wasn't proud of it, not at all. But she, of all people, would understand -- right?
"Please, sit," Samantha croaked faintly. She gestured towards the chair beside her bed, and wordlessly, I did what she asked. She tilted her head towards me, taking in the sight of my secondhand clothes and dry hair.
"So, how was it, Vienna?" she asked me suddenly, her big wide brown eyes allusive and almost accusing.
"H-how was what?" Kissing your boyfriend? Fantastic, just dandy.
"The road trip with Elliot, of course. Was it fun? I've always wanted to go on a road trip with him," she looked down at her cotton bedsheets, letting the silence tell me that I should probably answer her.
"It was fine, it was nice to be able to finally see Elliot again," I answered truthfully, staring at my hands, turning them over.
"You lived my dream, then," she said suddenly. "I've always wanted to travel with Elliot."
"Um, pardon me for asking, but why... why didn't you?"
She frowned, "There was never enough time."
Never enough time. How true that was.
After a stretched, rather uncomfortable silence, Samantha sighed. It wasn't like a sigh of boredom or content or even one traced with disappointment. It was a sigh that sounded like it came from a person who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"I wish I could start over with Elliot, honestly," she burst out. "Anything to erase my mistakes."
Her mistakes. Meaning, never cheating on Elliot in the first, second, and third times.
"Samantha?" I asked.
She turned towards me, and she really was gorgeous, enough to be envious.
"Why did you do it?" I asked boldly, feeling partly brave and kind of rude. But I couldn't take it back now.
Samantha sighed again, running her fingers on the blanket before turning away. "I assume he's told you then? About what I've done to him?"
"Once or twice," I shrugged faintly, biting my lip. I was a horrid, horrid person to be talking like this to her, especially since I didn't deserve to know. But there was an even stronger urge to know, before I left both her and Elliot.
Samantha shook her head. "I was a stupid high schooler who didn't know the difference between someone who wanted you or someone who wanted you to stay. I took advantage of the only person who would ever treat me like a real person -- like a real lady, even if I didn't deserve it You know those kinds of people, right? The ones that are so annoyingly hopeful that you think there's something wrong with them?"
"That's Elliot," I chuckled softly. "Annoyingly hopeful."
"Right... well, I guess... I just thought it was boring to be with someone like him. I guess I was just a thrillseeker, or maybe I was afraid that I couldn't be as committed to him? I don't know, honestly -- I-I just don't know. He offered some kind of peace, but I couldn't handle that. I wanted more. So I betrayed him, more than once, by being with other guys. And I'd always come back to him, and he would always accept me."
I hadn't noticed, but Sam was silently crying. I silently cursed, knowing what Elliot might think if he walked on his girlfriend crying.
"Samantha...," I tried. "Please, don't cry."
"I-I'm sorry for acting like this--" she apologized, wiping away her cheeks. My eyes grazed on her arms, which were purple and bruised in spots.
She took the SUV headon, I remember Elliot saying to me.
"No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have pried like that, it's not any of my business," I interjected, and I really did mean it.
Samantha gave me a teary smile. "It's okay. It's not like it's a big secret, how I hurt him... But do me a favor, Vienna?"
I blinked, "O-Of course. What is it?"
"Don't wait for a second chance, alright? Because sometimes, once you a lose a person, they don't come back. Never again," she said sadly.
"I-I wont," I replied shakily.
"If only he knew how sorry I am. I don't think he'll ever know, even if I say it or put it on a billboard or drill it into the moon. I took advantage of such a good person... and no one deserves that," Samantha said, her voice lowering softly, faintly.
I looked down at my hands, feeling the backs of my eyes start to burn. How could I have been wanting Elliot when Samantha was such a kind person? Elliot made her out to be some betrayer, some traitor. And maybe she was, a long time ago. But she was also a human being.
My mother was also human.
Sometimes humans make mistakes, but if you don't forgive them... then how much better are you?
Silence soon blanketed the room like wet wool, falling thickly upon us. I couldn't even hear the faint patterned breathing of Sam's crying.
Wait a minute.
My head shot up fast, and I saw that Sam was turned away from me, her eyes closed. Her hands had fallen to her side, unmoving.
"Samantha? Sam!" I hissed frantically. My eyes veered to the heart monitor, and as if on cue, the sharp rise and fall of her heartbeat started lowering, with a sharp beeping noise emanating from the machine.
"No, no," I whispered. I grasped Sam's hand, patting it, trying to get her to wake. She had to wake up. "Samantha, can you hear me? Sam!"
Her eyes wouldn't open. Her chest wouldn't move. How could she be gone that easily?
Suddenly, the door crashed open, and nurses in white scrubs started filing in, with the doctor coming in last, his eyes wide with panic. Without even asking me to leave, one of the nurses started grabbing me and thrusting me out the door, apologizing and saying something about family only.
"What? No, wait! What's going to happen to her? Is she gonna be alright?" I stammered, my heart threatening to break through my rib cage at how fast it was going. She just couldn't be gone. We were having a conversation!
"She's losing her pulse," I could hear the doctor say stoicly.
But before getting an answer, I got the door slammed in my face. It didn't take me long to realize I was already crying. Never in my life had I been so attached to a person I had just met in minutes, and never before had they left me so quickly.
In seconds, Elliot started bounding through the halls, a horrified look in his darkening eyes.
"Vienna? What the hell is going on!" he started screaming. "Why are you crying?"
"S-Sam...Samantha..." was all I had to stutter before Mrs. Marshall came from the hall, breathing erratically, her hands shaking, like she anticipated this moment.
"My baby!" she screamed so pitifully, that it only made me cry harder. Nothing stopped Mrs. Marshall from going in the door, with Elliot following, his bloodshot eyes filling with terror at the idea of losing someone he loved. I couldn't bring myself to go in. I didn't deserve to. Instead, I waited in the lobby, flooded with the overwhelming urge to punch the window.
How could I have ever loathed the idea of a person so nice as Samantha? How could I have wished her out of the equation when she was just a girl who made mistakes? The guilt flooded me with tears and I collapsed in a chair, my face in my hands. She was such a gorgeous girl, obviously loved by so many people.
She couldn't die. Elliot needed her. If I couldn't have Elliot, someone had to. He needed to have someone.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, I heard the faint shuffle of footsteps. Lifting my eyes, I saw Elliot stumbling over, looking dazed and zombie-like. His usually vibrant and inviting eyes were removed of all sense and feeling. They were like rocks; stoic, empty. Broken.
He didn’t move from the door. I closed the distance between us as I walked towards him.
"Elliot?" I asked, shaking. I had to hold myself from falling.
He shook his head softly, before prying his hands off his face, leaving me to take in his reddened eyes and his damp cheeks.
“She’s gone,” was all he said.
I dropped the plastic cup of water that I had gotten without meaning to, and it felt as if time had turned to slush and I watched the cup fall to the ground noiselessly in super slow motion. My ears started pounding with blood.
“No,” I whispered. “She-she can’t be.”
“She’s dead. They couldn’t bring her back.”
The wind was knocked out of my lungs. I couldn’t even comprehend what he was going through. Had he even gotten the chance to speak to her?
“Elliot…” I reached hesitantly for his shoulder, curling my fingers. “Elliot, I’m really sorry—“
“Just... stop talking, please,” Elliot cut me off, standing up, moving away from me. “I just want you to leave.”
“...What?”
“I want you to go. Vienna, please just go home. Take the truck, take the bus, it doesn't matter, just please leave,” his voice trembled and shook, and he turned away from me, his back shaking.
My breath caught in my throat. “Elliot, I don't understand.”
“Just leave.” His voice rises with aggravation. “Her mom told me that when you called her, she remembered telling you that Samantha was doing worse. She told me that she called you at that gas station in Vegas. Why didn't you tell me, Vienna?"
No. It couldn't be.
"T-The call... it got cut off -- I couldn't hear her. The payphone stopped working when she was talking," I protested.
"Well, if only we had known." Elliot shook his head, breathing hard. "If we had known, we would've been here sooner. If only we hadn’t been to that casino, if only I hadn’t stayed in those hotels, if only I hadn’t met you, I would’ve been here quicker. I would've got to say a lot more, I could've spent more time... more time...Just go away, Vienna. Go home!”
"Fine. Fine I'll -- I'll go... if that's what you want." I whispered.
I turned around on my heels, accidentally stepping on the Styrofoam cup that was still on the floor. It flattened and became dented, lead to a deformity, resembling how I felt inside, how my heart would’ve probably looked like.
I got inside the elevator quick, feeling myself tremble. The elevator doors closed and my last glimpse was of Elliot collapsing on a chair, face in his hands, silently sobbing and my last thoughts being, "my fault."
*
[a/n] sorry :( but pls don't hate on elliot it hurts me when you do
and i wrote samantha's story like this because i was sick of the stories that portray the "other girl" of the main male character as slutty and malicious and unforgivable, and i hope samantha breaks that, and proves that there's always two sides to every story, that people can change. :)
[ this chapter has been edited and added to, so there's probably some stuff that wasn't there when it was originally posted :) ]