Michael hesitated before he knocked on Sam's door. He waited and listened for any sign of life inside the home. While waiting he reflected on the past couple of weeks.
After the 'email incident' at school, Sam had stormed off and didn't come back. No doubt he needed to cool off, and Michael had let him go, figuring he needed space to escape further taunting. Apparently, he had misunderstood who Sam wanted space from, as it turns out, it was Michael.
Sam didn't respond to any texts, and when Michael drove to pick him up the next day, he'd already left for school on foot. Michael offered a lift to the girls and noticed their hesitancy before they accepted. It prompted him to ask them a few careful questions during the journey to try and establish where Sam's headspace was at. They didn't give much away, and from his continuous glances in the rear-view mirror, he could see their gazes were each cast to the side or down in their laps whenever they answered. They were evading him, even Jess.
After he dropped them off, his mind analysed the prior day frame by frame, word by word, starting from the moment he picked Sam up and ending when he watched him leave the school. Why was he being ignored?
School cemented Michael's suspicions. Sam avoided him all day. When it came to lunch, Michael went to approach him on the field, but when their eyes connected, Sam immediately looked away. Utter dismissal. Michael switched off from that point on, his shell ate lunch, sat in class and wrote notes, but his consciousness retreated deep into his thoughts.
At the end of the day, he returned home and took a seat on the balcony. He stayed there for hours, looking across the lake at the Hanz household. Elsie came out to check on him but left him to it when she noticed the pot of red lollipops next to his chair. They were a tell-tale sign he was in one of his brooding moods. He didn't react to Elsie's presence in the slightest, his eyes were fixated across the lake, even after dark.
His initial reaction was irritation over the fact Sam had pushed him away without having the courtesy to confirm why. Michael assumed it had something to do with the emails, perhaps Sam was ashamed they'd been linked romantically. Michael never took Sam as being insecure about his sexuality, in fact, ordinarily, he oozed confidence. Sam teased Michael before by suggesting he fancied him and wore glitter in the past like war paint around his sisters. The more Michael thought about it, the more confident he felt that Sam wasn't the sort of guy to care about being labelled as gay, it wasn't an insult. So what then? The teasing had frustrated Sam, but what about it made him turn away from Michael. His irritation developed into full-blown frustration when he failed to come to a satisfying conclusion.
After a day or so of the same behaviour, Michael stopped looking for Sam at school and didn't drive round to pick him up. If Sam was determined to ignore him, Michael would beat him at his own game, he was the definition of tenaciousness. Michael could play the long game, he'd spent most of his life being ignored, Sam would come back to him eventually or he wouldn't, either way, Michael refused to chase him.
The door to Sam's home opened.
At least, he tried not to chase him. When the Christmas holidays came, and they still hadn't spoken, Michael's resolve began to crack. It wasn't just Sam. Even though it hadn't been all that long, Michael's life had become intertwined with the Hanz family. It was difficult to picture what Michael did before he met them. When he thought of Sam's family, he found noise, laughter, warmth, blonde hair and bronzed skin. When he tried to picture life before them, it was quiet and bland, at least it had been for a long time. When Sam went away, it all went away.
Milly stood in the doorway, smiling politely at him.
"Michael, nice to see you" she greeted. Her hand subtly pulled the door close to her body. "Sam's not here I'm afraid" she added without prompting.
It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. He didn't move and glimpsed towards Sam's bedroom window. He was in there alright. Where else would he be?
"I'll let him know you came over," Milly offered when Michael didn't immediately provide a habitual response. "You'll have to come over for tea again soon."
Michael couldn't bring himself to challenge her. He must have looked momentarily defeated for Milly's expression softened, and her smile became genuine.
She glanced over her left shoulder, and Michael heard a poorly attempted whisper from one of the girls. Milly looked over her other shoulder furtively before she mumbled 'not now.'
"Sorry, Michael," she said, theatrically loud, "you'll have to come back another time."
While doing this, one of her hands shooed Jess into the doorway, and the little girl quickly placed a Tupperware box on the doorstep. Milly gave Michael a quick smile and closed the door.
He knelt down to retrieve the box and looked up. The netting in one of the windows moved, and Jess pressed her face against the glass and waved at him. He waved back before returning to his car. Looking down at the Tupperware box in his lap, he popped off the lid. Inside was a folded up drawing of a dark-haired blob next to what could be a castle, he suspected it was meant to be him. Additionally, there were two decorated cupcakes.
Michael slowly rested his head back against his seat.
***
Curled up on the armchair with her legs tucked beneath her, Hadie listened to the front door close and lowered her phone. "When are you going to talk to him again?" She sighed.
Sam, who lounged ungracefully across the three seated sofa in jogging bottoms, gave a grunt. Hadie observed him with raised eyebrows. With his head propped up by a pillow, Sam unflatteringly rested his chin on his collarbone. A little further down rested a mixing bowl full of mini sausage rolls. He stared glumly at the TV, periodically filling his face, while channel hopping every few seconds.
Hadie huffed and tried to concentrate on her phone but lowered it again.
"What's this even about?"
Sam shoved another sausage roll in his mouth. "Shut up" he mumbled.
Tammy came to perch on the armchair beside Hadie. "Leave him alone, can't you see he's preparing to play Santa Claus." She earnt a sideways glance from Sam and puffed her cheeks and belly out in response.
Sam smiled sarcastically, his mouth full of half-eaten pastry.
"I'm sad" Jess called tearfully from the kitchen. She buried her face in her mother's legs while Milly tried to sort the washing out.
"Oh sweetheart, why are you crying?" Milly chuckled gently while patting the back of Jess's head.
Sam tried to ignore the loaded looks he quickly received from his other sisters.
Another knock came at the door and Sam sighed.
"If it's him again, tell him to stop being a stalker or we'll call the cops" Sam mumbled nonchalantly.
Milly sent a stern look towards her son, not that he saw it. "Why don't you answer the door yourself, I kind of have my hands full" she chastised, despite already moving towards the door with a tearful Jess in tow.
The door opened.
"Oh, Amelia. My, haven't you grown."
Sam sat upright and quickly brushed away the collection of crumbs on his face and chest. Hadie rolled her eyes and returned to her phone. He stood up and caught his mum glance at him hesitantly. He moved over to the door, relieving her of guard duty.
He did another conscious wipe around his mouth to remove any excess crumbs and cleared his throat.
"What's up?"
Amelia hunched her shoulders and glanced down. His blasé greeting irritated her. "Can we talk? I mean, we could have spoken on the phone but you haven't exactly answered any of my calls or texts."
The reality of Amelia's visit dawned on Sam. He had been so preoccupied with Michael he'd forgotten about her and it hadn't gone unnoticed. It was cold outside. He knew he should invite her in but she seemed to have a bone to pick. He didn't want to fight with her.
Amelia realised he wasn't going to let her in and that cemented the tone of the following conversation.
"You haven't spoken to me in a while, figured the only way we could sort this out is if I came here," Amelia began. "If you even want to sort things out that is."
Sam gave a long exhale through his nose and leant against the doorframe.
"I don't know what you're talking about. What's to sort out?" He mumbled.
Amelia's expression grew irritable and she became more like Charlie in appearance than ever.
"You've been avoiding me ever since the party, how many times do I have to tell you its okay?"
"Funnily enough, you saying it's okay doesn't automatically make things okay" He retorted.
She didn't like that. "What do you want from me?"
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. I want nothing. I haven't asked for anything. I wouldn't mind a little space."
Amelia frowned before a nervous smile lingered on her lips. "Space? Don't you think you've had enough of that? Any more space and we might as well not be friends anymore."
The statement hung awkwardly in the air between them. Amelia abandoned her smile.
Sam scratched behind one of his ears and gave a subtle glance towards the living room. He was acutely aware that their conversation was hardly private.
"It's not as simple as you make it out to be Amelia, it never is" he eventually said.
Amelia looked exasperated. "I just want things to be good between us again. To go back to how things were, I miss how things were." She reached out to brush his arm. "Like before Michael."
Sam shook his head once and shrugged off her touch.
"Forget Michael" he snapped, abandoning all attempt to avoid conflict. He didn't want to hurt her but the more she said, the less he cared. "Things were never good before Michael. Our problems have nothing to do with him."
"That's not what I meant." She exclaimed.
"I don't care" he erupted. "Look, I'm done with you saying it's okay. It's not okay. It's not just the party. Every day something happens, not to you, not to Michael but to me. I'm the one with a target on my back thanks to your family. So don't tell me its okay, you haven't got a fucking clue."
"Sam, stop" she gasped, her tone half shocked, half warning him to say no more.
He retreated back from the doorway and grabbed the door.
"Please, I haven't done anything wrong" she added. Her lips were down-turned and her eyes began to shimmer. "Can we fix this?"
Sam looked away. "There's nothing to fix, this is the way things are."
The door closed and Amelia turned her back on the Hanz household. She took a deep breath until the swamp of emotions in her chest grew stagnant.
It was like Sam said, he needed space. Amelia fidgeted with her scarf. Sam wasn't really turning his back on her, he just needed time. Charlie hadn't let go of what happened at Halloween. He never needed much fuel to hate Sam but now he had a valid reason he waved it around like a banner. The way he reacted meant he truly believed it and there was little she could do about that. Sam was feeling the brunt of the accusations even if she didn't endorse them.
She left the Hanz household and began idly walking down the street to where she chained up her bike.
Amelia couldn't really remember that night. All she had were conflicting stories. Sam hadn't really defended himself much and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She knew he wasn't the sort, it was obvious from the way he acted around his sisters. Not only that, she never got that vibe from him. He always seemed so thoughtful and honest to her, without any ulterior motives. The thought of him touching her gave her a mixture of feelings. The general idea made her blush but when she really thought about the perverseness of it, she felt a little sick.
Why would someone make something like that up? Charlie wouldn't say who told him, but it must have come from somewhere.
She freed her bike and straddled the seat. It felt like her responsibility to clear things up, to make things right. If she hadn't of drunk so much she'd be able to remember. Amelia knew that sounded a lot like victim-blaming, but she couldn't help her self-anger. She never normally drank alcohol but Violet kept supplying the drinks and before she knew it the world was askew.
Amelia leant down and rested her arms and head on the handlebars of her bike. There was only one other person who could get through to Sam. She had never visited his house before but everyone knew where it was, in fact, if she stood on the sandbank in Sam's back garden she could see it. She sucked in a deep breath and began riding for Michael's house.
***
An older woman in a conservative black dress opened the door. They stared at one another for a moment. She had lovely olive skin and thick, jet black hair, far too exotic to be a relative.
"Excuse me, is Michael in?" Amelia asked, feeling a tad shy under the stern gaze of the woman.
She didn't respond immediately and left Amelia feeling like she needed to expand.
"I'm Amelia, we're...friends. School friends. Also, our parents are kind of dating."
This gained a reaction. The woman's eyes widened minutely before she developed an odd smile on her lips as if something Amelia said was amusing.
"Wait for one moment" she murmured before pushing the door almost closed.
Amelia listened to her bustle away and after a seconds hesitation, poked the door further ajar to peer inside. She didn't realise it would be a challenge to get inside the Wilton household. From the gap in the door, she caught sight of lavish furniture and beautiful flooring. She could smell wood polish from where she stood.
Amelia quickly retreated back a few steps when she heard the woman returning. She opened the door wider and threw on a superficial smile.
"Come in, but please take your shoes off, I've not long cleaned the floor."
Amelia entered cautiously, quickly slipping her trainers off as instructed. The woman collected her shoes and placed them on a rack. Amelia went to shrug off her coat.
"Keep your coat on, he's outside on the balcony. Would you like a blanket?"
Amelia dutiful followed the woman through the house, quickly taking in the sights before she was ejected back into the cold. She never considered how odd it would feel being in Michael's space, seeing him in his natural habitat. Due to its large windows, the house was full of light and yet the dark furniture gave it a gloomy quality. The tidiness made it seem like a show home.
She stepped out onto the balcony carefully. The fact Michael hadn't moved made her feel like an intruder. He sat on a comfortable chair, overlooking the lake with a book in hand. A grey blanket covered him up to his waist while his upper half donned a warm jumper. He glanced over at her and didn't offer any form of welcome.
He looked like an intellectual enjoying a peaceful afternoon. Amelia pulled the blanket she was given tighter around her, concealing her goofy, teenage outfit.
"Elsie, would you care to sit with us?" Michael asked nonchalantly.
The woman, who was stood behind her, smiled. "No, but I'll go make some warm drinks."
Amelia turned to faintly thank her for the trouble, but she was already bustling away. She turned back to Michael who gestured to a nearby chair with the nod of his head. She pulled it closer to him and sat down. Now she was there, she wasn't sure what to say.
"Most people call first you know" he muttered while propping his book back up as if to resume reading.
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. He was always so difficult.
"I didn't exactly plan on coming over, it sort of, just happened" she replied, aiming for the same level of nonchalance he displayed.
She looked out across the lake. There really was a perfect view of the back of Sam's home from there. She envied their proximity.
"What are you reading?" She asked after a side glance at his book.
Michael revealed the cover to her. "Paradise Lost, for English. What do you think of it?"
Amelia smiled grimly. "I haven't read it, must only be for the brainiacs."
Michael pursed his lips thoughtfully before turning back to it. "Hm."
Elsie brought out two steaming drinks on a tray and Amelia gratefully took hers to warm up her hands. They sat in silence while Amelia decided on what she wanted to say and how to say it.
Michael lowered his book and his steely eyes drifted over to her. "So does this, sort of, just happened visit have a purpose?"
Amelia slurped up some of the hot tea Elsie had given her while maintaining eye contact. "It's about Sam."
The book shut with a loud clap. Michael's lips developed into a firm line. He repositioned himself to face her. "What about him?"
Amelia lowered her drink and realised she had a million things she wanted to ask Michael. She wanted to know how Sam had been? What they'd been doing? Why she wasn't included. Had anything funny happened that she'd missed? Anything sad? She wanted to be included so desperately.
"I spoke to him and he doesn't seem to be in the best of moods. I thought, maybe you could help me out with him?"
With one glance from Michael, Amelia realised she'd kicked a hornet's nest. Her grip on her hot drink tightened until it began to burn her skin.
"What do you expect me to do" he snapped, "you're the one he's talking to, apparently."
Amelia shifted in her seat uneasily. "Yes, well not really, but-"
"He won't answer the door to me" Michael interrupted, his words stiff. "I've been shut out, ever since your brother posted those emails all over school."
Amelia felt the daggers in his tone. Clearly it had been a mistake turning to Michael for help.
"I didn't realise" she murmured. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Perhaps he needs space?"
Her suggestion only seemed to annoy him more.
"Why would he need space from me? I'm not the one causing him all the trouble" he sniped.
Amelia cocked her head to the side and found herself grinning at his blunt, accusational tone.
"I can't control Charlie, and I can't control what other people tell him. I've said a million times that nothing happened to me at the Halloween party but he won't drop it."
Michael's eyes widened minutely. He held his drink to his lips. "What would you know. You were passed out."
Amelia stared at him, caught off guard by the suggestion hidden in his response. "But nothing did happen" she repeated firmly.
Michael looked away and took a long sip from his drink.
Amelia decided to move on, doing her best to ignore the swell of nausea in the pit of her stomach.
"It's a shame your last year of school is full of so much drama. I bet you regret moving here" she exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood.
Michael smirked and accepted the slight topic change.
"Life is drama, it only stops when you die" he muttered.
"So dark" Amelia murmured into her own drink.
Michael's smirk widened. "What I meant is, there's drama no matter where I go."
Amelia raised her eyebrows. "Ever thought about what the common denominator is if that's the case?"
She received a sidewards glance. "Let's not play the blame game."
They made small talk for a little while longer, at least until Amelia finished her drink. She decided to leave when the evening quickly drew in. She considered herself lucky that Michael was so civil after their initial encounter, it was nice to talk to someone outside of her usual circle again.
Michael saw her to the door and she paused on the porch to thank him for the tea before turning to leave.
"Amelia," he said, observing her thoughtfully. "Something did happen to you."
It took a minute for her to realise what he was saying.
"Pay attention to who you're alone with. Sam won't always be there to protect you."
Her heartbeat quickened. What did he say? What was he saying!
Amelia barely formed the words "who" before he closed the door. Her hands grew clammy and she forgot how to breathe. She hurriedly knocked on the door.
"Michael? Tell me who? Michael, who was it? Michael!"
The door remained closed. Amelia sat on the front porch and steadied herself. She had convinced herself it was just a silly rumour, an implication because Sam helped her to bed when she'd had too much to drink. If someone really did do something to her while she was passed out, why wouldn't Michael tell her who? What did he mean by Sam protecting her, did he see something and if he did, why hadn't he told her about it?
Amelia pulled the zip on her coat up higher and tightened her scarf. She felt so vulnerable and open all of a sudden as if all this time someone had been watching her and no-one bothered to warn her. She moved towards her bike, eager to get home to the safety of her room. One question repeated itself over and over in her mind.
Who.