Re: Quicklog: Vegas, Sam & Mere
[Sam wasn't alone.
Cris had insisted he come, and it was probably good, yeah? Because she didn't know the door thing good, and she didn't know Vegas. She'd never been out of Jersey, and this place was nothing like Jersey. It was hot in October, for starters, and Sam was warm in a borrowed hoodie over gray shirt and colorful leggings. Everything in the city was spread out, too, not crammed in together like home. And she'd never been to any kind of halfway house, not for disabled people, not rehab, not for nutjobs, nothing like that.
She looked at the green house curious, and she was there for reasons other than altruism, because she was curious about this woman. She knew Meredith had stolen this Neil guy. Or maybe she'd stolen Neil from Meredith. And she knew Meredith had got it on with Cris in a dream, which made her frown just because Cris sounded so upset about it. But Sam, this age, she didn't know how it felt to be forced like that, and it wasn't the same as the empathy that would come later.
Hair in messy pigtails, lips still kiss-swollen, she smiled nice at the guy in the crutches, and she stopped outside the door he indicated. Cris was right there, behind her, and Sam stopped before reaching for the doorknob. She wasn't scared about seeing Meredith or anything, even though no one had told her specific what had happened to the woman. Stubborn, she blocked the door before Cris could get near it.] You stay here, ok? I don't want you getting upset or anything.