Naivete

A/N: I just reread this story. It's been almost two years since I've even really thought about it, and I now seriously regret at least one of the following two things: 1) not finishing the damn story, and 2) not ending the story sooner. But I'm going to leave it as it stands and do my best to actually finish it. Then, perhaps, there will be room for more stories. I have lots of ideas, and I hate writing multiple stories at once. Please bear with me - I haven't seriously written anything in a long time.







15. What were you expecting?





Saturday mornings were always bliss. Sleeping in, lazing around in pajamas, eating a bad-for-you breakfast. In fact, from the second she felt her body rise into wakefulness, Sam knew that the only thing bad about today was the hangover. But hey, what's a hangover except an annoying little reminder of a good time? Opening her eyes to see her teenage sister fast asleep in Sarah's bed only made the morning sweeter. She hadn't seen her sister in a few months, but it might as well have been years. She'd always admired Jordan, for her strength and her stubbornness. Even as the older sibling, Sam had always wished for the cajones her sister seemed to possess.



Rolling onto her back, Sam stared at the ceiling, lazily trying to decide if she was going to be getting up or not. She reflected upon the night she'd had with Jordan and Mike. It had taken some serious research, but Sam had managed to find the only standing honky-tonk in the whole of New England. It was hokey and cheesy, and nobody there knew what the hell they were doing, but it was as close as they were going to get to the real thing. Sam grinned suddenly thinking of Mike standing there, pork pie hat askew on his head, trying very hard not to look uncomfortable. She also felt a little stab of guilt, however. Even though she'd informed him that it wasn't his scene, she'd never really seen him look so out-of-place before. He always seemed so...adaptable. But he'd been decidedly stiff for most of the night. In fact, she realized with a tiny frown, he'd been decidedly stiff for a couple of weeks now. Ever since their last encounter with Brent, in fact, Mike had seemed slightly more protective of Sam, which was nice, but also unsettling.



It was as if he was handling her now, gently, like a Fabrige egg. Cupping her in his hands, trying to carry her around in a velvet box. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that extreme, but compared to the brash, forward, spare-no-words Mike she'd known for all these months, she felt like she was dealing with a completely different person. The longer she thought about it, the more anxious she became. He hadn't said one harsh word to her in over two weeks. Her anxiety began to turn into panic. He hadn't even given her his opinion in over two weeks.



Sam suddenly felt like crying as she realized how much she'd depended on the very thing he'd always promised her: that he would always be that asshole who gave it to her straight. Of course, it occurred to her that maybe she simply wasn't doing anything that warranted that kind of attention from him, and of course it occurred to her that perhaps she was overreacting. Even if he was changing, it didn't necessarily mean the end of their relationship.



But it might mean the end of the Mike she fell in love with.



"Are you okay?" The sleep-ridden, husky voice of her teenage sister made her jump guiltily. She hated being caught in the middle of a mental crisis.



"Yeah, why?" she responded unconvincingly. Jordan sat up wearily and glared at her sister with heavy eyes.



"You look like you're going to have a melt-down. Anything you need to talk about?"



Sam twisted her face into some semblance of a smile. Shaking her head, she only sighed before sitting up herself and stretching like a kitten. "No, no. I'm just driving myself crazy, that's all."



"Oh," Jordan replied casually, padding across the floor toward the bathroom. "Is that all?"



Sam sighed again and stared at the floor, patiently awaiting her turn. There was probably nothing to worry about. She frequently had to remind herself that he was new at this kind of thing. Maybe he was just afraid of making a mistake. But that didn't sound right either...she'd never known Mike to be afraid.



It was all very strange.



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Jordan's art of choice was unsurprisingly drama, so Sam had arranged for Jordan to visit the auditorium during the final dress rehearsal of West Side Story with Sarah. That way, Jordan could really explore the opportunities the school held for her, and Sam could spend a few hours with her study group preparing for their finals - still over a month away, but looming rather ominously on the horizon nonetheless.



After walking Jordan to the stage, Sam doubled back and headed toward Paul's apartment. The air was "brisk," which was this funny word that Northeasterners used for "cold as fuck," so Sam walked as quickly as possible without looking like a complete idiot. When she approached the front steps of the building, she saw a very familiar figure standing near the door, looking around anxiously. Sam cocked her head as she approached Mike, smiling inwardly as she always did at his hat and trench coat. He saw her and furrowed his eyebrows, taking her gently by the upper arm and leading her away quickly.



"Wha? Where are we going? I thought we had study group today."



"Eh, no," Mike said distractedly. His face looked pained as he struggled to find the right explanation. "Lover's quarrel," he said finally, gesturing with his chin toward the apartment window.



Sam stopped, her jaw dropping in shock. "Again? Are you kidding? We can't keep putting this off just because they can't keep their hands from each other's throats!"



Mike slowed his pace and released her arm, wincing a little as he reflected upon what he'd just witnessed upstairs. "Well...it's pretty bad." He looked at her with a look of utter sincerity and concern, which was kind of annoying. He'd been expressing a great deal of sincerity and concern lately. "There were tears," he added.



Sam smirked a little. "Karen cried?" she asked dubiously, raising an eyebrow at the prospect.



"No," Mike replied hastily, his eyes wide. "I did. She's so mean, Sam!" His voice cracked with feigned rejection. Sam smiled fully this time, looping her arm through his. This was a little more like it.



"So what now then?"



"Now..." Mike said, quickening his steps again and glancing at the sky apprehensively. Sam looked up as well and saw nothing interesting except a blanket of low, gray clouds. "Now," Mike said again, stopping firmly in the middle of the grass and tilting his head back as far as it would go. Sam looked at him in complete and utter confusion. She was about to say something rude and snippy when he said the word again.



"Now! Tongue!" And he promptly stuck out his tongue. Surprising herself, Sam imitated Mike's posture immediately, though she still had no idea why. Her tongue began to feel very cold.



"Juth wait," Mike said, as seriously as a grown man could while standing in the cold with his tongue hanging out. She didn't have to wait long. It felt like a needle at first, a tiny, narrow syringe injecting her tongue with ice. She almost gasped, and lowered her head quickly, wondering what the hell had just happened to her mouth. The cold feeling went away fairly quickly, and she was left with an unusual taste in her mouth. Looking at Mike, she furrowed her eyebrows again. It was only a moment later, as she saw the snowflakes collecting on his coat, did she realize what was going on here.



"Oh my god," she murmured. "Do people actually do this?" She'd seen it in movies, but Central Texas saw very little in the way of snow. She didn't have a whole lot of personal experience with snow-related customs.



It was silly, but she suddenly felt like a little girl. It was snow! Was there anything as magical as snow? Her face broke out into a grin as the tiny flakes fell more rapidly and fervently than before. They swirled around in a dance Sam had never witnessed before. She had never actually seen snow in her life, and she was as mesmerized as a child. Grinning and not caring a bit who saw her, she threw her head back and began to spin in circles, arms wide as she watched the snow descend from the sky.



This went on for another few moments before she felt Mike's hand grab her by the wrist. He pulled her close to him, so their bodies were touching, and gently stroked her hair. The tip of his nose was red, and his eyes looked glassy as he smiled down at her. She smiled back. She loved him. She was just about to tell him as much when the smile faded from his lips. He broke eye contact, looking down and taking a deep, preparatory breath. Sam held hers. When Mike looked nervous, it meant there was something to be nervous about.



"Listen," he began haltingly. "Sam. I know I'm not very good at this."



"Not very good at what?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat and reassuring.



Mike dropped his hands and took a step back, making Sam's heartbeat quicken in anticipation. "At...at this, this you and me, more-than-friends...thing," he finished lamely, rolling his eyes at his own inability to complete a real sentence. Sam waited a moment as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts, terrified at what the next words from his mouth would be. He was going to break up with her. They hadn't even really gotten anywhere yet, and he was going to ruin both the possibility of a serious relationship, and their existing friendship. She tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in the back of her throat.



His face was showing a side of him she'd never seen, and she wasn't sure she liked it. He appeared...insecure, vulnerable. Not the usual silly, witty, brutally intelligent man she'd fallen in love with. In fact, right at this moment, he looked like a totally different person. She was beginning to feel very confused, and a little afraid of what this meant. Finally, he spoke.



"I just don't know how to give you what you want, Sam."



Sam shook her head incredulously and stepped toward him. "Mike, there's nothing I want that you're not giving me," she said firmly. He looked at her doubtfully, with one eyebrow raised. She laughed in spite of herself. "Okay, except maybe that. But that can wait. I'm not in any kind of rush here."



She stepped forward again, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something too," she said almost without thinking. "I've been noticing how...different you've been lately. All I want is for you to be yourself."



Mike shook his head a little, all insecurity vanishing from his face as he smiled down at her. "I don't know what's been going on, but I don't like it either. I've just never been here with anyone before. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."



Sam frowned at him crossly. "Now, don't you start getting hung up on 'supposed to,'" she scolded, and he laughed a little. "You just do what comes naturally to you."



Mike gave her a happy half-smile and started to rock her back and forth. "You mean, act like an asshole, make obnoxious comments about other people's sex lives, and strut around like I hold the key to the universe in my trendy fifth pocket?"



Sam smiled and slapped him smartly on the shoulder. "Exactly!"



Mike nodded slowly, as though turning the idea over and over in his mind. "I think I can do that," he said slowly before bending down to kiss her sweetly on the mouth. He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. That was much more like it.



"Come home with me for Christmas," he murmured then, so quietly she almost didn't hear him. Furrowing her eyebrows, Sam felt a tingle go down through her arms. Meeting the family already? Staying with the family?



"I don't know, Mike...you're going to be with your family."



"And you're not going to be with yours," he pursued earnestly. "It's just going to be me and my mom anyway...and a few other people," he added, waving his hand vaguely. Sam laughed out loud, mulling it over in her head.



"Well, I don't know...I was planning on spending the whole break locked up in my dorm room reading sexy novels and eating bonbons."



Mike nodded grimly. "Okay, yeah, you're coming with me. If you're going to get fat and stupid, it's damn well going to be due to my mother's apple pie and taped reruns of Dawson's Creek."



"Your mother does not watch Dawson's Creek!"



He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "It's a flaw," he muttered.



"Hey!"



The voice was sharp and rang out clear over the courtyard. Turning their heads, they saw Karen standing on the balcony a few buildings down. "Are you guys coming in or not?" She looked irritated.



Mike turned and held his hands to his mouth like a megaphone. "Are you done fucking yet?" he yelled at the top of his voice. Sam collapsed into giggles as three people walking by stopped and stared in horror.



She may have been far away, but Karen's gesture was unmistakable. There was a dull thud as the sliding glass door was slammed behind her.



Mike sighed, looking defeated. "It's so demoralizing. No matter how hard I try, she always outsmarts me in the end."



With that, he began to amble toward the building happily, whistling a little as he walked. For the first time since they'd started dating, he just walked away, not looking back, not slowing so she could catch up. Sam smiled. She'd always loved that about him.



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The rest of the semester flew by in a frenzy of studying, rehearsing, and strongly caffeinated beverages. Not only did all four of them have performance finals to worry about, but their academic courses had been sufficiently kicking their collective ass lately. They even made a friendly study-group pact in which they all reluctantly agreed to put aside their current relationship issues and focus instead on preparing for finals. Surprisingly enough, it had been Karen's suggestion. Like Sam, she was there on scholarship, and was in real danger of having to play on the streets for money if she lost it. So they all continued much as they had in the beginning of their friendship, meeting almost every day and hitting the books hard.



By the first week of December, Sam felt like she had musical theory dripping out of her every orifice and utopian and dystopian literature written on the inside of her eyelids. There was no way she would fail - she couldn't have been more prepared if she'd been born that way. Due to the study group pact, she and Mike had determined it would be best if they just didn't spend any alone time together before finals. They'd have plenty of time to make up for it over the holidays, and neither could afford the chance of failing. When they met, it was in public, and they kept it casual. It was so casual, in fact, that it felt a great deal to both of them like it had been before - good friends, nothing more. And although there was something bittersweet about not kissing him whenever she wanted, Sam realized that this was totally acceptable. Their friendship still grew stronger every day.



It was Monday morning, and it was freezing outside. Mike, as usual, donned his pork pie hat and long green trench coat. Sam, as usual, was wearing at least six layers to keep her warm. Mike smiled when he saw her come in, shaking like a lamb.



"Still not used to the cold yet, huh?" he asked as she sat in the booth across from him.



"It's inhuman," she muttered, picking up a menu and browsing it, even though she knew she would be ordering the same as usual.



"You ready?" Mike asked then, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. It was a question they'd been asking themselves and one another for a couple of days now. Saturday night had been their last study group, and all four had taken Sunday to themselves, to relax and get some sleep before the onslaught. It was now day one of the academic finals, and it was going to be a grueling week.



"How could I not be?" Sam asked, nodding as the waitress filled her coffee cup with strong, black coffee. A quick glance around the room showed a number of other students there, also ingesting their very strong coffee before the exams. "We've only been going at it like rabbits for the last month."



"If rabbits studied, of course," Mike returned, grinning wryly.



"Of course," she said, looking at him innocently. "What did you think I meant?"



Mike shook his head slowly, giving her a look of warning. "You are such a bitch," he said. "Just wait until I get you alone on Friday. All bets will be off."



Sam narrowed her eyes at him in challenge. "Come now, Mike. You know my kung fu is best."



His eyebrows shot up. "Oh...oh, it's ON, little lady."



"Nobody's turning 'on' until the fat professor sings," Paul said dully as he slid into the booth next to Sam.



"Paul!" Mike said, looking wounded. "Get your mind out of the gutter! There are ladies present."



"Oh? Where?" Karen asked, slouching in next to Mike. "I don't see any fucking ladies around here."



"Yeah, me either," Mike grumbled. "In case you hadn't noticed, that's been the unfortunate result of our little agreement."



"Hey, you're ready for your tests, right?" Karen shot back.



"Speaking of which," Paul interrupted, looking at his watch and standing. "My first one is in fifteen minutes. Just came by to wish you guys luck."



"Good luck, Paul, you'll do great," Sam said encouragingly. Mike and Karen merely waved him off, grunting.



Looking at her own watch, Sam's stomach lurched. The first of no fewer than six exams was occurring in half an hour. She kicked Mike gently in the shin under the table, and he winced before looking at her inquisitively.



"I'll see you Friday," she said softly, lifting an eyebrow suggestively. Mike growled. Karen rolled her eyes,



Sam left to seal her academic fate.









A/N: Okay, so I have this unusual feeling that this chapter sucked, but cut me a little slack if you will...I haven't written so much as a grocery list in at least a year. I'm just trying to get my chops back. Please comment, let me know people are out there reading. As usual, I feed upon the support and suggestions of my audience!