Sam lay curled up on her bed. She didn’t want to get up. Some part of her didn’t want to face the reality that awaited her. (Surely I dreamed what happened last night) she told herself solemnly. (Brooke didn’t kiss me, twice. My fragile, tiny little mind has finally snapped and I’ve lost it) She pulled her knees even closer to her body and pulled the covers over her head. (Or, if she did kiss me, she’s going to realize she made a horrible mistake and blame the whole thing on me and blab all over school that I’m gay) Tears started anew. (My life is over)

Meanwhile, across the bathroom and in Brooke’s room, Brooke was pacing like a caged animal. (What was I thinking? It seemed like the right idea at the time!) she told herself. Panic was the emotion of the morning. (Now what do I do? What if she thinks I was just playing? I can’t just let her think that) Deciding she needed to talk to Sam, Brooke marched into the bathroom to Sam’s door and was surprised to find it locked.

"Sam? Sam you in there?" She was greeted by silence. She left the bathroom, went out through her room into the hallway and tried Sam’s hall door. It was locked too. Now she was pretty sure Sam was in the room.

"Sam, open the door, we need to talk," she asked. Still Sam didn’t answer her. She thanked God both their parents weren’t home. It’d be hard to explain why she was outside Sam’s room begging to be let in.

"Sam, damn it, open the freaking door!" she yelled.

"Go away!" the anguish-ridden voice surprised Brooke. (Why is she upset? I thought.I thought.Jesus, I don’t know what to think anymore) Brooke sighed. She knew Sam was in love with her, she had heard the words from Sam’s own mouth, and she knew she felt something for Sam as well. Whether or not it was love, Brooke couldn’t be sure but it was strong and overwhelming and couldn’t be ignored anymore. (But) she conceeded (maybe kissing her and walking away last night wasn’t the wisest course of action. God, she’s probably tied up on knots trying to figure out what’s going on)