Wednesday: Anti-Douchey Who: Sam and Anna Lauren When: Afternoon Where: a sidewalk cafe
With the rain cooling things off the day before, Sam decided to take advantage of the nicer weather to drag himself out of the house. He didn't have to work that evening, so he had all day to do... absolutely nothing. Since it felt like it had only reached the sixties, he pulled on a faded, worn track jacket over his t-shirt and without much thought, pulled on the jeans he'd worn the day before. His idea of combing his hair was running his fingers through it a few times, because honestly he had no one really to impress, did he?
He walked today, deciding not to waste the gas in his car when he had no real destination in mind. He knew there would be a bunch of stuff going on over on the mainland, since it was coming up on the Fourth of July, but Sam was still unsure about whether or not he'd take the ferry over to check it out. If the weather stayed decent, maybe.
In any case, Sam ended up in the book store, buying a Dean Koontz novel and the new Maxim. He thought about calling Kyle to meet him somewhere for a joint, but ultimately he found himself hungry and sitting outside of one of the cafes, scarfing down a burger and flipping through the Maxim on the table beside his elbow.
Anna Lauren had been poking around the Shoppes for a while, mostly because she was bored. She'd actually gone to get her nails done, something she didn't usually waste time with, because that would use up an hour or so. She didn't like long fake nails, so she'd had them French-manicure her own medium-length nails, and she thought it had turned out very nicely. She'd bought a couple of random pieces of jewelry that had been on sale at one of the boutiques, and she was wandering along trying to decide what to do next. Maybe she should call up Sam B. or Ava or one of the other people she hung out with occasionally; it was going to be a long afternoon if she had to spend it all by herself.
It was then that she noticed the other Sam, looking adorably disheveled, sitting at one of the cafe tables eating a burger. His attention seemed to be entirely on whatever he was looking at-- a book or magazine, she thought-- and she ducked inside the cafe itself. Should she go talk to him, or would he consider that an annoyance? She got into line while she thought about it, because she hadn't had lunch yet, and tried to scrutinize her reflection in the glass window next to her. Faded, ripped jeans, long-sleeved peach t-shirt with a v-neck, her hair down, her usual light makeup on. She thought she looked okay. Maybe she could pretend to be all casual about it, like she approached people every day and asked to sit with them at lunch. Well, she had, with M the other day. That seemed different, though.
She got up to the counter and ordered chicken salad and a croissant, which would be easier and less messy to eat than a burger. Once she had that and a bottle of water in hand, she made her way outside, putting a light, casual smile on her face as she approached his table. "Hey... can I join, or are you waiting for someone?"
Sam was washing down a bite of his burger with a gulp from his soda when the voice caught his attention. His gaze shifted upward where he saw Anna Lauren standing beside his table. For a second, he glanced behind her to see who she was with, but since she was asking to sit with him, he was guessing she was alone. Smiling, he straightened and used his foot under the table to push the chair across from him out for her. "Nah, I'm alone." He shut the Maxim since it would be rude to ogle scantily clad women while sitting with another girl. "How's it going?"
Anna Lauren noticed what he'd been looking at, of course, but she didn't comment beyond the tiniest smirk. Boys. She wondered if anyone published a Maxim-type magazine for girls, with pictures of hot guys. She'd look at that, for sure. "It's going," she said breezily, setting her stuff down, slinging her purse over the back of the chair and then sitting down. "I'm still waiting for someone to call me about a job, so I decided to go shopping!" She didn't mention being bored, because someone had once told her that only boring people were bored. While she wasn't sure she believed that entirely, she didn't want to give the impression of being a loser. "You?" She picked up her fork and dug into her chicken salad.
Sam grinned, since that seemed like the logical thing to do when you had no job. Shop. He hated shopping, personally. At least he hated the - let's go to the mall and browse kind of shopping. At her question, Sam picked up one of his fries to dip in the mountain of ketchup in the red plastic basket holding his food. "It's going all right. Obviously my social calendar is packed, which is why I'm sitting here eating lunch alone. Or, was," he corrected before shrugging. "Boring kind of day, I guess. Trying to decide if it's worth it to take a ferry over to Darkwater later for the music and shit."
Anna Lauren wasn't a hardcore shopper, but she did invest a bit of her time in it. She liked to look as if she at least made a casual effort to keep up with the latest trends. "Well, mine's packed, too," she told him. "Clearly, since I was walking around by myself." That was okay, though. She'd never been one of those people who had to have somebody else around all the time. She crossed her legs beneath the table, swinging a foot casually. "I forgot about that," she said when he mentioned the pre-Fourth of July party in Darkwater later. "I'm definitely going over. There'll be fireworks, too, I think." She broke off a piece of her croissant and popped it into her mouth.
"Look at us, the social butterflies we are," Sam said with a grin before popping the fry in his mouth. Sam had his own small group of friends, but he never felt the need to hang out with them twenty four seven. Sometimes he had a hell of a lot more fun on his own anyway. Swallowing, he reached for his drink, trying not to get annoyed when the breeze blew his unruly hair into his eyes. "You could see the fireworks from here, though, right? Though I'm guessing there'll be food stands and food stand food is usually fried and awesome. Might be worth the ferry trip."
Social butterfly? Not quite, but it amused Anna Lauren to hear him use that term in reference to himself, even if he was completely joking. "Right," she said, smirking back at him and hoping she didn't have anything in her teeth. That would suck. She opened her bottled water and took a few sips, just in case. "I dunno," she said when he asked if they'd be able to see fireworks from the mainland. "I kinda doubt it. There might be a glow in the sky, but--." She shrugged a shoulder. It was a thirty minute ferry ride over there, so she highly doubted any of it could be seen. "I bet there'll be funnel cakes," she said when he mentioned food stand food. Not that she needed any of that, but they smelled good, for sure.
"Funnel cakes? Then hell yeah, I'll probably make the trip. Can't remember the last time I had funnel cakes." His stomach would definitely appreciate a couple of those. Fried, powdery goodness. He sipped his soda, not wanting to gulp it down like a pig since he now had company at the table. Female company. Then Sam shrugged with a casual smile. "Maybe I'll see you over there. You'll probably find me near the food. Obviously."
Anna Lauren was eating her chicken salad, attempting to be as non-messy with it as possible, and she paused with her fork halfway to her mouth when he said she'd find him near the food. "Gotcha," she said. "If I need to find you, just head for the funnel cake stand. I bet they'll have those hot dogs, too... the ones that're so awesome but kill your stomach later." She snickered and then lifted the fork to her mouth. It was kind of hilarious to imagine hunting for Sam and staking out the food stands to do so. That started her thinking about what if she did see him over there? Would it seem stalky to go say hi, or was he hinting that it would be okay for her to say hi? He'd just said maybe I'll see you over there.
Sam's eyes rolled up and he brought his hand to his chest. "Oh god, yeah, the hot dogs. Damn. I'm going to be sick tomorrow, I know it. Fried food, hot dogs... cotton candy, maybe." What the hell was he doing, eating now? He had to save room for all the crap in Darkwater later that night. He set his soda down and picked up his burger again, glancing at her from underneath the hair still hanging in his eyes. "You probably won't need to find me for anything, but if you want to find me, yeah, definitely funnel cake stands. Or hot dog stands. Or, I'd be wherever there's cotton candy." He paused in his ramblings. "Or if you wanted, we could just go over together so I don't look like a douche who's pigging out alone."
Anna Lauren almost aspirated chicken salad at his little dramatic performance; luckily, she managed to save herself from that by covering her mouth and coughing until she'd cleared it. "Or you'll eat so much that the ferry'll sink on the way back to the island," she said, lifting her eyebrows and snickering. Sometimes she wondered how they didn't sink anyway, given the rough waters and crazy weather around here. She drank down some more of her water, pleased that she was managing to not be a complete dork. At least she didn't think she was. Usually her inner self-dorkiness radar was right on. Then he said they could go over together. "I guess we could," she replied, trying to be casual. "I'd hate for people to think you were a douche. Oops," she added sheepishly as the handle of her plastic fork snapped when she dug it into her plate again. So much for not being a dork.
"Maybe they can just put me in a life saving ring and let me ride behind the ferry in the water," Sam suggested. "Unless I'd be more like an anchor, then that wouldn't work." All joking aside, he had a pretty good metabolism. If not, with how much he ate daily, he'd probably weigh four hundred pounds. It helped that he was pretty active most days, rather than sitting on his ass playing video games like some of his friends. That thought alone sort of reminded him about Solana. And he ought to find her sometime. It'd been awhile, after all. He grinned at Anna Lauren, reaching over to pull her broken fork out of her chicken salad for her. "Want me to go in and get you another one? That'd be an anti-douchey move, right?"
"You'd definitely be an anchor," Anna Lauren said. "It'd be worse than the ferry that got stuck out in the middle of nowhere the other day." Right, like that would ever happen. From what she'd observed of Sam's body, he was seriously fit. A lot of boys were like that, she thought. They could eat their body weight in food per day and it didn't seem to affect them. That kind of sucked that most girls couldn't do the same. "That'd be really nice of you," she told him when he offered to go get her another fork. "Very anti-douchey." Not that she wasn't capable of getting up and walking in to get her own fork, but it was nice when a guy offered to do something like that. She gave him a warm, encouraging smile.
"Anti-douchey is what I aim for." Sam pushed his chair back, scraping it against the pavement before he stood. "Be right back." He went inside and grabbed a couple more plastic forks from the counter containing the condiments and plastic ware, and then returned outside to sit back down beside Anna Lauren. "Here." He handed her one fork before holding up the other. "I'll keep this one, just in case you break another. I didn't think it was so difficult to eat chicken salad," Seam teased. "You're gonna eat the fried food with me tonight, right? No forks allowed."
"Thank you," Anna Lauren said when he handed her the new fork. "Yeah, I might need another one, who knows? You just don't know me that well... I can make anything difficult!" He didn't know how true that was. Sometimes she thought she was one of the most awkward, most fumbly people in the world beneath the veneer of casual coolness she could put on. She scooped up another couple of bites, then pondered his question. "Sure. Fried food, nothing you have to eat with a fork. Sounds good." She'd been good today: fruit for breakfast, chicken salad and a croissant for lunch... she should be able to get away with having something with absolutely no nutritional value for dinner. Stupid blood sugar issues.
"Yeah. Clearly you've got issues with plastic forks. I'd hate to see what you'd do with a plastic knife," Sam said with a quick smirk before he bit into his burger again. He didn't see Anna Lauren as awkward or fumbly. Even if he did, he wouldn't have cared. He preferred girls who were real over girls who tried so hard to be perfect. Perfect hair, and skin and make up and all that. To Sam, that was boring. He liked girls who weren't afraid to be silly around him. Sam swallowed his food, thinking suddenly that it was kind of strange to be sitting there with someone who was a hell of a lot more liked than he was. She'd dated a jock after all. A douchey one, but the fact was, she and Sam never hung out, or were even friends with the same people. "It's kinda weird, huh?" he asked, after taking a drink of his soda that was now nearly gone. "You sure you wanna be seen with me over there?"
"You really don't wanna see that," Anna Lauren joked of her abilities with a plastic knife. "Good thing I don't have one." She was finishing up her chicken salad now, her mind already racing ahead to the fact that she was going over to Darkwater with Sam tonight. Should she wear something different, or would that look like she was making a big deal of it? Not like they were going on a date or anything. When he asked her if she was sure she wanted to be seen with him, Anna Lauren looked mildly perplexed. "Really? I can't believe you're asking me that." She wadded up one of the paper napkins that she'd picked up when she'd gotten her food and threw it at him. "Why would I not want to be seen with you? You might not wanna be seen with me." After all, she was psycho according to Darren and his friends; they hadn't lost any time talking trash about her pretty much the second after the breakup.
Sam tried to catch the napkin, but it bounced off his chest, into his hand and then his lap. He picked it up with a grin and set it down, rather than tossing it back at her. "C'mon... why wouldn't I wanna be seen with you? I'm a loser. You're at least... pretty. Which means you've got something going for you." He was just a semi-deaf stoner who worked at the gas station. Sam knew his place, and it didn't bother him any. Anna Lauren was different though. She was one of those 'out of Sam's league' girls. There were a lot of them.
"You're not a loser," Anna Lauren disagreed, making a face at him. "What makes someone a loser is if they treat people like crap, if they're like, mean and selfish--" She was describing her jock ex-boyfriend perfectly. "--you know? I don't know you that well but you don't seem to be like that." Her arguments helped distract her from the flush that was spreading over her cheeks when he said that she was pretty. A lot of days, she didn't feel pretty, but it was nice that he thought so. Darren had gone a long way toward ruining her self-esteem, really. Her foot swung beneath the table, as if she could channel her twitchiness that way, and she reached for her bottle of water, making a mental note to drink carefully so it wouldn't go down the wrong way. She could see that happening to her in front of someone.
"Oh. That's a loser," Sam said with an understanding nod. "Gotcha. See, I was always told a loser was someone with a shitty job, no money and a crappy fashion sense. I think we actually go to school with the kind of losers you're describing." He finished off his drink and set it down. Lifting a hand, he brushed his hair from his eyes again and looked at her. "Why wouldn't I wanna be seen with you, then? Since you're not a loser either, it doesn't make much sense."
"A job's a job," Anna Lauren pointed out. "My dad always told me that the job itself isn't what matters... it's how you do it. You could have the best job in the world and be a total slacker." She shrugged a little, then crumpled up her napkin and tossed it onto her plate with her (unbroken) fork. "And I'd have to laugh at you if you dressed like, say... Torin Spencer." She had to snicker at the thought of Sam wearing some preppy looking getup, or a blazer or something. When he asked why he wouldn't want to be seen with her, she held his gaze, even if her smile took on a slightly bitter cast. "You mean you haven't heard that I'm psycho? A life-ruiner? White trash that isn't even white? A stupid whore?" Her eyes dropped then, and she reached for her purse, thinking that maybe she'd said too much. Why would she want to remind him about all the horrible rumors that had been floating around about her for the better part of a year?
Sam didn't think there was much to working at a gas station. He did his best though, but working the night shift in the summer usually meant reading a lot of magazines, or making up games, or stacking the candy bars as high as he could. He wrinkled his nose at the mention of Torin Spencer. Sam didn't know the guy personally, but he didn't like him just from initial judgments. Cocking his head to the side, Sam sat back, stretching his legs out the best he could without knocking her under the table. "Well... yeah I've heard all that. Doesn't mean it's true. Besides, all the people I've heard that from are the ones you told me were losers anyway. I don't think you're psycho. You haven't ruined my life, or anyone else's that I've seen. And you're pretty smart and... uh, I may be overstepping my boundaries, but I don't think you're a whore either. Believe me, I've known whores, and you're not one."
"At least you're not one of those people who believes everything they hear," Anna Lauren said, setting her purse down on the table next to her and rummaging through it for her Chapstick. She hadn't necessarily thought Sam would be somebody who'd jump to snap judgments from hearing rumors, but it was nice to have things confirmed sometimes. She'd been burned too many times since she'd taken up with Darren and his crowd. Finding the tube of Chapstick, she smoothed some of it on, then said, "It'd be kinda tough to be a whore when you've only slept with one person ever, but some people like to exaggerate." She gave him a rueful smile and shrugged. Not only was he hot, but he was nice, too. That was pretty awesome.
"I'm one of those people who're telling other people not to believe everything they hear," Sam replied. He didn't really know what to say about the rumors regarding Anna Lauren. He'd heard them, and he hadn't necessarily believed them. She'd always seemed nice enough, even if they never really spoke outside of school. To Sam, she had always been kind of goofy and awkward. At least around him. Sam picked up a fry to munch on before he smiled at her. "Hey... if anyone is a whore at this table, it's me. And you know what? Even if you slept with ten guys, who cares? Sex is fun, and awesome. I sure as hell enjoy it." He nudged her foot teasingly under the table. "Don't listen to the douche bags."
"Is it whore if you're a guy?" Anna Lauren wanted to know. "Or would that be manslut?" She snickered. Actually, she'd care if she'd slept with ten guys, because she thought that'd make her feel icky, but she knew guys were different. In her experience, sex hadn't really been all that great, anyway. Sometimes it was pretty decent, but most times it was just okay. Whatever. Clearly, she could do without it, considering she hadn't had a boyfriend since she and Darren had called it quits. She poked his foot with hers and retorted, "'Course you enjoy it. Guys always get the happy ending." She made a face at him and then fished in her bag for her sunglasses. It wasn't overly warm out, but at least the sun had emerged.
"Manslut? Or manwhore. I suppose if you put man in the front of any derogatory term, it works," Sam said. He'd had his fair share of girls before, but mostly friends who were stoned or something. Sam couldn't remember sleeping with someone he really cared about. But he'd never had a girlfriend type girl, so that was probably why. Sam stared at Anna Lauren before he burst into laughter. "Wow. Yeah, I mean, I guess you're right. We do. But... why is that our fault? Girls ought to tell us what we're doing wrong instead of faking it, you know? That way we can learn." Sam grinned broadly, folding his arms against his chest. "Believe me, I'm all for learnin' new things when it comes to sex."
Anna Lauren unearthed her sunglasses and perched them on her nose, grateful for the small bit of camouflage given the turn the conversation had taken. She sat back in her chair, trying for a lofty air as she smiled slowly, amused by his laughter. "Maybe girls don't want to have to give instructions every time," she said. "That kinda kills the mood. You know, take some initiative." She wanted to roll her eyes and say that maybe she hadn't faked it, but the guy in question hadn't seemed that concerned with whether she got off or not... but that was more information that Sam really needed to have, she thought. Who really expected high school boys to be anything but quick and selfish when it came to sex, anyway? She was sure some of them weren't like that, but considering her limited experience, that was all she knew.
"Maybe girls should give guys instruction at least once, so they know," Sam pointed out. "Although I don't need instructions. This is all hypothetical." Just in case she was starting to doubt his own sexual abilities. Not that Anna Lauren was thinking about that at all, but no guy wanted a pretty girl to think he was inept in bed even if they weren't sleeping together. Sam shook his head. "How'd we get on this topic again?"
Anna Lauren started snickering when Sam said that he didn't need instructions. She couldn't help it. This conversation was becoming hilarious. Although, he probably didn't. To her, he looked like a guy who'd know what he was doing. That might just be because she thought he was hot, but anyway. "Because we started talking about whores, I think," she replied when he asked how they'd gotten on this topic. "You gotta love random conversations." She did, anyway, even if he didn't.
"Oh, right. Whores. I'd be a great whore," Sam boasted before laughing. "I think that's how we got to the topic of actual sex. Manwhores, sluts, all that. Great. We should probably steer clear of the topic of sex, otherwise my brain is going to drift off into extremely inappropriate fantasies and I doubt I'll be paying attention to anything else the rest of the afternoon." He tapped his shoe against the ground beneath the table. "What else is random? The weather? Baseball? Fried food? Oh wait, we did that one..."
"You're so silly," Anna Lauren told him, reaching over to poke him with her foot again. It was kind of cute when boys were blatantly boys like that, she thought. "The weather's never random around here, and we could talk about baseball... if you want me to fall asleep with my face in the leftover chicken salad." She giggled. She wasn't much of a baseball enthusiast. Football and basketball were okay, usually. "I should probably get going, anyway. Got stuff to do before we go over to Darkwater tonight." Things ran much more smoothly with her mom when she at least made an attempt to do the chores she requested, and she didn't want her mom to get in a snit and forbid her to leave the house, or anything.
Silly. Well, yeah, he could be silly sometimes. He wasn't all the time, but she seemed to bring it out in him. Sam straightened in his chair once Anna Lauren suggested she get going. He felt weirdly disappointed, but it wasn't too terrible. Not if they were going to the mainland later that night together. "All right. I guess I'll see you tonight then. Wanna just meet at the ferry? Or do you need a ride?" That might be easier, although Sam had just figured on taking the ferry without his car, since the so-called celebration would be right there.
"I'll meet you," Anna Lauren said, rising from her chair and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Six-thirty or seven?" She knew that the fireworks weren't until ten, although there'd be plenty to do until then, she imagined. Tons of people would be there, since well, there wasn't a ton to do in town most of the time. She didn't want to insist that Sam pick her up, because this was a casual thing. It was bad enough, in her own mind, that she sometimes stalked him in cat form without having him think she was making him her instant boyfriend, or something. She picked up her trash next, so she could toss it in the trashcan as she walked by.
"Eh, let's say seven." Sam didn't want to get over to the mainland too early. Chances were he'd end up making an idiot of himself before the fireworks anyway and at least he'd give her plenty of time to take off if she wanted. He stood up to gather his own trash, as well as his magazine and bag from the book shop. "Thanks for keepin' me company for lunch. Now I don't feel like such a loser for eating alone."
"Seven," Anna Lauren agreed. Hopefully things wouldn't get awkward, like they'd run out of stuff to talk about on the ferry. Most of the time she could talk to just about anyone, but Sam was different for some reason. She thought she'd done okay just now, at least. "You're welcome. I didn't have to feel like a loser, either." She smiled and gave him a little wave. "See you later." She'd best head on her way before she did something dumb and spend the afternoon doing her chores and obsessing about tonight. Good times.