Shopping or Something

Bridget walked through the isles of the small music shop, looking for new guitar strings. Hers had broken. Again. "Dammit" She turned around, looking for her best friend. She sighed loudly, turning to go down another isle. Who knew it would be so hard to find guitar strings. For a second she wished she was at her favorite music shop, back in Windsor. It was really the only thing she liked about the tiny town. One of the few things that kept her there. She groaned in protest as she reached the end of yet another isle, and started down the next one. She rolled her eyes and turned back around only to run into her favorite brunette.

It was their bi-weekly shopping trip. Sam always had to practically drag Bridget to even the music store. It had been so different since they got to Vermont. She didn't want to go anywhere anymore, which worried Sam slightly.

He'd wanted to get out of Windsor, she'd wanted to stay. It made no sense.

He walked toward her, stopping right behind her, when she turned around and ran into him. "You know, London Bridge, you should really stop breaking your guitar strings. They're expensive and you break them like...at least once a month," he teased.

"Maybe" She said, lightly punching him "The non-cheap ones will be more resistant to my 'playing.' now help me find some so we can go home. Or to the art store and then home" She grabbed his hand and dragged him down the isle, where low and behold, there were Guitar strings. "Which ones should I get, Sammy?" She asked

She examined the guitar strings and thought, it was so different in Vermont. Sam always wanted to go places, while she had no problem staying on the School Campus. He'd always been like that, in a way, always wanting to go. But he waited for her, still, even though he wanted to leave. There was a reason she loved him.

Sam poked her in retaliation to her punching him. "The non-cheap ones are still really expensive. We don't have a whole lot of money to waste. And you don't play. You attack. We'll go to the art store just because I like torturing you." He rolled his eyes as Bridget grabbed his hand and dragged him to the guitar strings. "Get the cheapish ones."

He watched as she examined the guitar strings closely. She was so cute when she was focused.

Not that he'd let her know, of course.

She bit her lip and picked up two different packages "These" she held up the cheaper ones, "Or these" she asked him, and then frowned at his comment "I wouldn't be so bad if you were a better teacher." She said, hitting him again, as he poked her.

"I need paint anyway," she said, "Need anything else from this place?"

He pointed to the cheaper package. "Get those. We're going to need money if we're going to the art store, silly." He rolled his eyes and dodged the blow. "You wound me, Bridget Elizabeth. And anyway, I'm a great teacher. The kids love me. You just can't learn," he said, patting Bridget's head.

"I need to get a flute for- Oh god I forget who for. I think it was one of the Lockes or Donovans. I'm not sure."

She stuck her tongue out at him "Money, money." she said, rolling her eyes "We're going to have more now, you know. Actual jobs that aren't minimum wage." she said.

"Uhg how to I tolerate you" She said, shoving him. "I learned Piano fine, why do you think I teach it?" She nodded "It's you."

"They're all related. Well not all of them. But if they aren't they're dating. It's insane" she said, shaking her head "So much drama"

"Let's get food after that. I'm bored of the weird food there" she said, figuring it would make him happy. He'd been bugging her about getting out recently.

"Money money money, always sunny, in a rich man's world..." he muttered under his breath. His mom always played ABBA when she cleaned- which was almost every minute of the day. "I know that, but I don't want to take the chance. Remember those jobs we had at 7-Eleven? I never want to go back to that again."

Sam grinned at Bridget and poked her in the shoulder. "Because you love me, obviously. Yeah, but that's piano. It's a completely different instrument."

He nodded. "They're teenagers- well, we're barely adults, so... I don't know. It's just weird.

"Alright then. Let's go pay for this shit and I'll get the flute some other time. Where d'you want to go?" he asked, letting her choose.

Whoever said chivalry was dead?

"Stop singing" She said "We won't though" She said, "Promise. I don't think we can get fired without doing something pretty terrible." she said with an eye roll.

"Yes. Sure. go with that" She said, dropping the that topic quickly. "Yeah well they both have strings. And I can play other, random instruments. Like the kazoo" She said, crossing her arms.

"Well we were teenagers, back in Windsor. And we weren't NEARLY that bad. I mean the only person who slept around was that Ysandra girl. And only the pot heads slept with her. And the jocks." She pointed out.

"Pay for shit. Right." She said with a nod. "Come on then" She said, heading towards the front, "Um. I'm bad at this. Man I don't know. Anywhere. And we can actually go to bars now. I'm legal." She grinned.

"No. I refuse to stop singing. MY HEART'S A STEREO, IT BEATS FOR YOU SO LISTEN CLOSE, HEAR MY THOUGHTS IN EVERY NO-O-O-TE," he practically screamed, catching the attention of the manager, who gave him a slight evil eye. He grinned back at the man sheepishly. "Like what, pray tell? Attacking students with a giant snake? Sure, okay."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, say it. Say you love me. Go on. I know you can do it," he teased her. "So can I. I've only been taking lessons for practically every instrument ever since I was three."

He shuddered at the thought of Ysandra. "God, don't remind me. She tried to get me in bed with her at least five times," Sam replied, his face contorted in disgust.

He stuck out his hand for Bridget to give him her half when they got to the front. He took out his half and counted it up. "Okay, that should be enough." He grinned back at his best friend. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Some random bar then?"

"Oh my god I hate you" She said laughing and ducking her head. "I don't know you. Who are you and why are you following me. I think I should call the cops" She said. "I think that would do it. Keep you're giant snake on a short leash." She said, rolling her eyes.

"You're such a dork, you know that?" She teased back "How could I ever love someone as dorky as you?" She stuck her tongue out at him. "Yeah you know what that makes you?" She asked, then whispered "An instrument whore. I only play three or four instruments. Five if you include the Kazoo." She said.

"It's because you're so fine" She said jokingly "And you look like a jock. Or maybe a pot head. Both, you look like a pot head jock and she thought you were meant to be" She said, dropping the guitar strings on the counter.

"Forgetting my age. Humph. just like you. what are you now? 30?" She said, watching him count. "Maybe we should just go to Denny's. You can get the Senior discount and I can get the kids menu"

He laughed too and said, "Hey, I could have started singing Sexy And I Know It. Oh, we're strangers now? Okay. Let's start over." He offered Bridget his hand. "I'm Sam Ibarra. What might your name be?" Sam pouted. "Aww, my poor basilisk won't like that. Can I put him in a chamber instead?" he teased.

"Because I'm adorkable! I'd rather be an instrument whore than a whore whore. Well then, you can start teaching the kazoo too."

Sam ran a hand down his hair and winked. "Oh, I know that already. I don't look like a jock. I'm too skinny, as the football coach so eloquently put it in freshman year. Hey, I'm not a pothead!" He laughed sarcastically. "Oh haha, you're so funny."

He grabbed her half of the costs and handed it to the cashier. Soon after he got the bag. He grabbed Bridget's hand and took her to their car. "Oh, hahahahahaha. No, I'm five hundred, for your information." He got into the car and put the keys in the ignition. "Nope. We're going to the bar," he said with a grin.

"Haha Sammy. Funny." She said, bumping him with her hip, "Yes, chamber. Sure. Just away from the kids." she said with an exaggerated sigh. "You're like a child. A really old child"

"Adorkable. Sure. Creative aren't you? Yeah I guess it's better. As long as you don't tell band camp jokes. Again." She said, shuddering at the memory.

"It's your fault! you tried out! See I don't bend to peer preasure. Della told me to try out for cheerleading and I didn't. It was awesome. Plus who wants to be a cheerleader. No one. Well. almost no one." She poked him "You are a pothead." She grinned.

"Oh yeah sure. Get drunk, die in a car crash. That, will get us fired." She said, climbing in the car. "And no olives. I do not want a replay of my birthday. That was the longest I have ever spent in a hospital, INCLUDING the time I cracked my rib because I 'fell' off the top of the jungle gym"

"I know I'm funny, London Bridge. I've always been funny," he replied, bumping her back. "Cool. I'll need a ton, a real ton, of stone and some water for a moat." He laughed. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

Sam grinned. "You know it. Creativity's part of my job, ain't it?" His grin got even wider as Bridget mentioned band camp jokes. "Y'see, that wasn't my fault," he said, feigning innocence. "You were the one who mentioned Band Camp 2005 and I just remembered shit. So it's really you who's to blame."

He rolled his eyes and mimicked her talking. "I don't think I would have been able to play football without quitting band. Oh please, you know you wanted to be a cheerleader at one point. Remember Halloween way back when? You dressed up as a cheerleader, pom poms and all?" He punched her lightly on the arm. "I am not. I only tried it once or twice. Not a big deal."

He chuckled. "We can't really get fired if we're dead. And anyway, I'm not planning on getting drunk. I'm planning on having a drink or two and then leaving." He turned the key and started the car after he buckled up. "I know, I know. I wasn't pushing you, I was trying to stop you from falling...and you fell anyway."

"Well you'd know where to get a ton of stone in Vermont, right? Because I do not." She informed him "And it wasn't a compliment"

"You're a music teacher, not an art teacher." She grinned at the mention of Band Camp "At least I didn't play flute" She said, laughing, "That's the only one that never gets old." She said, glancing at him and grinning.

"Poor Sammy. Can't play football with the big kids. And yes, I wanted to be a cheerleader in Third grade. And I don't want to here about you drug escapades." She said with mock glare.

"Well if you die, I'd quit, that way they don't have to fire me! I'm so nice, I know" She grinned, "That's what you said last time Sammy. Do you remember last time?" She asked, crossing her arms. "Trying to keep me fro falling by telling me to let go. Sure. Sure Sam. I believe you"

Sam put a finger up to Bridget's lips. "Do me a favor. Be quiet for once," he teased. "We'll find stone somehow." He ran a hand through his hair and said, "Oh, okay. I see how it is."

He rolled his eyes. "Doesn't mean I can't be creative. Music's a form of art, m'dear." He grinned back at her. "Good times, good times."

He glared at her. "Funny, Bridget. So very funny. It's not my fault that I'm so...lanky? Still, you wanted to be a cheerleader," he said with a large grin on his face. "Okay, sure, I won't talk about it with you. You're so virtuous and pure that I won't even mention it at all.

"But you'd probably die with me." He sighed. "Let's just not talk about this right now. I hate the idea of you dying. Or me dying. You know. How could I forget? You keep reminding me about it. I was drunker than frickin' Haymitch Abernathy, I know." He laughed. "Well, we were kids. I didn't know any better."

Bridget stuck her tongue out and licked his finger. "I will NOT be silenced!" She shouted, then laughed "But I will, because you're driving and all" She grinned "As you should, sir!" She said.

"But it's not tangible. Unless you've been writing music again. On paper. Just coming up with things doesn't count. Writing music, on paper." She said "You cannot create things from clay or paint or Oh stop that" She said, shooting him a mock glare.

"Lanky? No you're just a 'bean sprout' as my mom used to say. Really tall and really skinny. And I'm just short and... well you know" She said, looking away from him at the end. It wasn't really a secret that she wished she was skinnier. What girl DIDN'T want to be skinny? "And I am oh so pure!" She said, changing the topic, and grinning "The purest"

"Sure. Kids. You were like 10. My dad still blames you for that, you know." she grinned "Whenever I bring it up he's all like 'That was Sam's fault not yours!'' she said, mimicking her fathers deep voice. "Mom says it was my fault though, because I was stupid. Man I love my family"

Sam contorted his face in disgust and pulled his finger away from Bridget's lips. He laughed and teased her, saying, "God, you're disgusting! You sure you're a girl?

"Who says I haven't been writing music? I can make things out of clay for your information! They're just misshapen blobs, but they're things! And I've written a song, lyrics and everything. Maybe, just maybe I'll show you later. Stop what? Calling you dear?" he asked. "Dear dear dear dear dear dear, oh look it's a deer!" he said, grabbing her shoulders and pointing outside.

"I thought the term was 'bean pole.'" He rolled his eyes. "Goddammit Bridget, I've told you millions of times, you're not fat. You're normal sized. I'm just going to go ahead and say this. You're perfect just the way you are, you have been since I've met you." He was kind of grateful when Bridget changed the subject. "I bask in the glory of your purity."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I know. Well, that's because you are stupid, London Bridge," he said with a large grin.

"Gee thanks, Sam. Love you too" She said, with mock anger, and then laughed. "Just kidding. I don't love you at all you're much too mean"

"Oh god don't tell me you're going through another music writing phase! I barely survived the last one!" She said with a shudder "They aren't even blobs. They make blobs look like artwork. Stop! No! Don't write music! Just play guitar! Stick with what you're good at, Sam!" She pleaded. "I don't want to have to drive you to therapy again because no one likes you're music!" She laughed, "No stop. Drive. Harass me when we're not in a two ton vehicle"

"What ever. Bean pole, too skinny freak" She said "Yeah, whatever" She said, dropping the topic. It was something they fought about a lot, her and how she saw herself. She was glad when he started talking again "I'm just surprised that you haven't corrupted me yet" She said with a grin "I'm so corrupt-able"

Bridget was just about to say something about Sam and his lack of intellect when something slammed into the car...

Sam just rolled his eyes as Bridget said she didn't love him. "Right. Don't love you either. At all. You suck."

It actually hurt when Bridget said his music was no good. He just stayed silent. Bitch bitch bitch bitch biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch.

"You're not corrupt-able. You're corrupted and don't realize it, duh."

The light was green. It was definitely green. But all of a sudden, some SUV rammed into the drivers' side of the car. Time stopped.

Sam could see the glass shatter before his very eyes. He could also see the blood. His eyes closed and all he could see was white.

Am- am I dead or something?

Bridget rolled her eyes when he got all quiet "Jeeze Sam! I'm kidding! Mostly. You're music is fine" She said, shoving him lightly "Seriously. If I had a favorite artist, it would totally be you. Mostly because you walk around the house singing and I guess I've gotten used to it or something..." She grinned

"I am not. We've been through this. I am the purest of the pure. The most pure." She said, laughing "But not really. Y'know, not really at all"

Then everything was twisted, at least, that's how she remembered it. She had been looking at Sam, and then there was glass everywhere and her arm hurt. A lot. and there was blood and then, everything was still. Eerily still. And she couldn't move much, her seatbelt had her locked into place.

She could however, turn her head, and she saw Sam. She would have screamed, if she had the time, but when she saw him, blood all over his face and glass and all, she fainted.

Sam grinned back. "Okay, okay. Oh you know I'm a good singer- especially when I sing the Bed Intruder Song," he teased Bridget.

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yeah yeah yeah, I know."

...

He could see. He was in what looked like a hospital room or something like that. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't feel anything. But he could see and hear.

Beepbeepbeepbeep beep beep beep. And then there was a long one.

"Is the patient breathing?" asked a shocked voice.

"No!" He could see a woman panicking. "I'm going to perform CPR!"

What the hell are they talking about? I'm breathing! I'm fine!

Everything went black for a minute.

And then he took a deep breath. His ribs hurt like a motherfucker.

They wouldn't let her come into the room. The ER or whatever. No. After she'd woken up with her arm all bandaged up, in a cast, she had begged the nurse to let her see Sam. She told Bridget that he was in surgery or some bullshit and then she found herself here. In the waiting room.

She had been in the boring as hell white walled and stiff wooden chair filled room for an hour nearly. She hadn't really been sitting for much of it, mostly pacing, and crying for awhile. She was sitting now though, glaring at the door and waiting for it to open, while guessing it never would. So she was surprised when it did.

"Um... Are you with Samuel Ibarra?" Asked a nervous looking man, probably in his early 30's.

"Yeah" She said, standing up quickly, "Is he alright?"

"How are you related to him?" The man asked, ignoring her question.

"I'm not, I'm his best friend. I was in the car with him. Just tell me if he's alright!" She said, growing slightly frantic.

"Well, He's alive, and it looks like he's going to stay that way-" the man started to say something else, but she cut him off.

"Can I see him?" She asked.

"Only for a few minutes"

She thought the walk would never end, so when they came to a small room at the end of a very long hallway, she nearly ran it.

He was sleeping, or knocked out and hooked up to a bunch of machines. It scared her slightly... "Sam?" She said, her voice quiet "Can you hear me?" She asked then knelt on the ground, her head by his "Sam don't leave me okay? Not ever. I can't..." She took a shaky breath "Sam I love you, alright. Not like I always tell you, but like," she swallowed, and found his hand that wasn't all attached to wires and tubes and whatnot, and held it in her own "Like love Sammy. Like love"

The man didn't make her leave. He said, since she was staying at the hospital, it didn't matter, so she ended up falling asleep in a chair that she dragged over to be by Sam's bed. Not the most comfortable option, but better then being on the other side of the hospital again.

Okay, Sam had had enough of this. He tried moving his toes. Didn't work. Same went for his feet and legs in general. He could barely move his fingers. He couldn't see anything- his eyes had been shut for whatever reason. But he could hear.

He could hear Bridget saying his name quietly. He tried to open his eyes to see her, but it still wouldn't work.

I don't want to leave...

He felt her grab his hand and tell him she loved him- like, actually loved him. Not brother-sister love, romantic love, the whole shebang. He tried to say "What?" but it came out as a garble. His mind was racing.

I don't know what to say- well I can't say anything. But- Oh god... I think- I think I'm in love with my best friend! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

He squeezed his eyes further shut and breathed deeply, trying to sleep.

The next morning, he could open his eyes.

He looked over at his best friend. "Bridget," he said, his voice groggy and hardly understandable.

She woke up countless times that night. Every time the beeping changed on Sam's machine, she woke up, and the nurse would come in and give him more drugs and changed the settings and everything. She asked each time when he'd wake up, but the nurse would just tut and say something like "when he's ready"

She was sleeping again when he woke though, somehow. Probably because she was really tired. She had been up only an hour before talking to James on the phone, because Rachel wasn't in. He promised to tell her, and then she'd fallen back asleep, curled up in her chair with an extra blanket.

She heard sort of a mumble, but it was better than the lack of noise he'd been making earlier. She sat up, rubbing her eyes "Sammy?" She asked, her voice quiet "It's me. It's Bridget" She said, taking his hand again, "Can you hear me?" she asked, he was moving his head. She moved some hair off of his face.