***MEGAN'S POV***

I lied awake in Shawn's bed, realizing I hadn't slept in here in what felt like ages. I knew I needed to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible, especially after I had kissed Sam, again. I didn't know what had come over me, or why I showed and said all the things I did to Sam, but I did, and there was no taking it back. She was confused, and sad, and it was all my fault.

I had tried explaining to her, I had tried making her see what I saw, and to be honest, I saw a lot of my sister in Sam.

The drinking, the partying, the smoking and all of the reckless decisions, the only difference between them was that Sam had absolutely no idea that there was something wrong with her.

In a way it was better, because she had gotten so good at blocking out the pain that she no longer realized it was there. My sister, well, she had obviously been overtaken by her own depression and felt like taking her own life was the only way out.

I felt the familiar pain in my heart as I thought about Lacey, and God I missed her so much. No amount of anything in this world would be able to replace her or completely mend the wound in my heart she had made.

I felt this strong need somewhere inside me to protect Sam from herself, because as time went on and things got more complicated I noticed a change in her behavior. When I met her she hadn't smoked, well weed, but now she had gone from not at all to smoking almost a pack a day. Her drinking habits hadn't changed, but she would now drive under influence. She was sleeping around, a lot, but the most drastic change had been her anger.

She was always so quick to get aggressive.

I knew there was something wrong with her but trying to make her see that was like talking to a brick wall.

Now thinking about the kiss I had shared with her, well, I obviously felt bad for it. I knew somewhere deep inside Sam there was something for me, no matter how much we both tried to deny it. I knew kissing her was wrong, but in the moment of trying to make her see her problem and holding her so close to me... it just kind of happened.

Kissing Sam was confusing and exhilarating at the same time, and in moments like that I would forget that I would see her in class next Monday at school.

Living with her obviously had done a number on our relationship, which was why I was so set on getting out of here. Sam and I needed space from each other even though neither of us wanted it. I could read Sam like a book, mostly because she always spoke her mind, but I knew she didn't want me to leave.

Which was also a little flattering.

I remembered when I had moved in initially, and how upset she had been at first. I knew me moving in wasn't the best thing for either one of us, but at the time it had been my only choice.

Now I was moving out and somewhere deep inside me wished I didn't have to.

I looked at the door, wondering what exactly Sam was up to right now. I wasn't tired, and I was actually pretty restless because of the earlier events. A part of me wanted to check on her, mostly because of everything I had laid on her in the past few hours, but another sensible part of me refused.

Thinking about Sam confused me. My heart would get this weird beat to it, my thoughts would run wild and I would actually get nervous.

Sam Carson actually made me nervous.

I could hear shuffling around the kitchen, which I took to be Sam because I also heard the door open and close.

Did she leave?

I sat up in the bed, wondering what I should do. If Sam was leaving that meant she would be driving drunk, because she had had a few beers and driving at this time at night wouldn't end good.

Then again, I didn't want to chase her and give her the wrong idea. I didn't want to continue leading her on, because I honestly felt like that's what I was doing.

I didn't know Sam's thoughts on the kissing and the flirting with me, I just always thought she was trying to sleep with me. I still kind of thought that simply because I knew how Sam was, and she was a womanizer.

And thinking that I was just another challenge to Sam upset me, which made me want to distance myself even more from her. I didn't want to give in for multiple reasons, but letting Sam win was not going to happen on my watch.

But I couldn't keep myself in bed.

I walked out the room and quickly over to the door, hoping she wasn't already gone. I couldn't let her drive like that, and after the entire talk about my sister... well paranoia had eventually set in.

How would I ever live with myself if I let Sam do something stupid?

I opened the door quickly, and to my surprise there she was, leaning on the hand rail with a cigarette between her pink lips.

I must've startled her a little bit because she stood immediately; facing me and looking on the defense but then realizing it was just me. She sighed, sticking her cigarette back in her mouth and turning back towards the parking lot.

I walked over to her slowly, not saying anything until she addressed me because I honestly had no idea what to say to her.

She mumbled, "Do you like scaring the shit out of me?"

I smiled slightly, thanking God she wasn't upset with me, "No, I was just coming to check on you."

"That's a first."

I felt the underlying sadness in her voice, even though she was pretty good at hiding it from me. I knew she didn't want me to think she was weak, and I knew she didn't want me to think I had something over her. That's how Sam was, she was strong and guarded, and her best skill was hiding her true feelings from everyone.

Everyone except me.

I sighed, "I just didn't want you on the road... you were drinking and..."

She looked at me, letting me see her blonde tousled hair and her familiar haunting eyes as she stood, "Even if I did leave I would have no where's to go."

I questioned, "Emma's still not answering you?"

She shook her head, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. She faced me, "Nope, but I don't blame her. She deserves so much better than me."

I just looked at Sam, wondering if she was actually upset over the entire Emma situation. I continued, "Why'd you agree to date her in the first place?"

She leaned back on the rail and looked at me, shrugging, "I don't know, honestly. There was something there that was different but..."

She seemed to be thinking about something else as she explained, but she discontinued it as she let the sentence die before she finished. I wanted to know her reasoning for doing what she did, but I was afraid she wasn't going to tell me.

I asked, "But what?"

She looked at me, "But it's not the real thing, I guess."

Sam wasn't the kind of girl to reveal something like this, especially about her feelings and how her emotions were making her. She was secretive and mysterious, and hearing her say this to me shocked me.

I questioned, "How do you know what the real thing feels like?"

"Because I just have a gut feeling it's not Emma."

The cool night air was becoming cooler by the minute, causing me to shiver, "So I'm guessing you two won't be high school sweethearts."

She laughed, "That was never the case."

"What do you mean?"

She began, "Emma and I were never supposed to be a thing, it was only supposed to be sex. Then she grew feelings, and you made me feel like I should give it a try, but now I'm obviously regretting listening to you."

I felt bad for doing that to Sam, I was just hoping it would make her grow up. Then again, I never expected Sam to listen to me, but she had, and that had to prove something, right?

I sighed, "Whether it works out or not, I still think it was a good decision for you."

She shook her head, "How?"

"Because you figured out you didn't care about her emotionally, just sexually."

She laughed, "There's a difference?"

I shoved her, smiling, "Sam, yes there's a difference."

She continued to smile, and then asked, "How did you know you didn't love Nikki anymore?"

It had obviously caught me off guard, but I wasn't quite sure how to answer her. Before I had gotten to know Sam there was always that hope that Nikki would come back into my life, but now I could care less if she did. Was it because I felt something for Sam? And I had known that when I had agreed to have sex with Nikki for the last time?

I shrugged, "There wasn't anything there, just lust and old feelings I guess."

Sam studied me, "So there's absolutely nothing left for Nikki in your heart?"

I wondered why she cared all of a sudden, but I answered, "No."

She nodded, "Good."

I couldn't help but question, "Why good?"

"Because, Nikki's a snake, and she's the type of girl to drain the life out of someone until they're broken. She's not a good person, Megan, and I obviously think you deserve better than her."

I felt defensive with Sam saying that about Nikki, but deep down I knew she was right, even when she barely knew Nikki at all. I was just curious as to why she even cared whether or not Nikki was good enough for me.

Did that mean Sam actually cared about me and my emotions?

It was pretty hard to believe, but it seemed that way.

I stated, "Well you don't have to worry, Nikki isn't coming back into my life."

Then Sam completely changed subjects, "Are you sure moving out will be good for you? Considering your financial situation...?"

I smiled at the thought of knowing Sam didn't want me to leave, but I answered honestly, "It'll be rough but... I have to do it, you know that."

She shook her head, "I just don't want to get my hopes up and get you to finally leave, just for you to come back a month later."

I just looked at her, knowing she was just kidding with me but trying to piss me off. I sighed, "Don't worry, I'd rather go back to my parent's house before coming back here to you."

She smiled at my joke and then asked, "Speaking of, why didn't you just go back to your old home in the first place?"

I thought about my mom and dad, and how they were separated. I knew I couldn't go back simply because the memories of Lacey and her death would overcome me. Staying away from all of that mess was better for me, which was also the only reason I moved into Shawn's place instead of back with my mom.

Going back just didn't feel right for me.

I answered, "Because it would be like going back in time and having to relive my sister's death, and I can't do that yet."

She nodded, seeming to understand completely and refusing to ask anything further on the subject. It felt weird, opening up to Sam about everything, but it also had a good feeling to it. I didn't mind telling her the truth, mostly because I knew she wouldn't judge me rather than understand my situation.

She continued the conversation, "Well what are you going to do for Thanksgiving?"

I realized Thanksgiving was in fact two days away, and I was supposed to spend it with my mom's side for lunch and my father's side for dinner.

I groaned, "All day thing. It sucks having divorced parents."

She just looked at me, and suddenly I realized that Sam hadn't seen her parents in years. She turned away, as if she was refusing me to see how my response affected her.

She shook her head, "Yea well, I haven't seen or spoken to mine in two years."

I felt my heart ache at her response, wondering how she had managed to do that for so long. I knew she felt pain and anger towards her parents, especially her mom, but not even speaking to them? Has Shawn done the same thing? Or was it only just Sam and her stubborn ways?

I leaned closer to her to give her a sense of comfort but knowing there wasn't much I could do for her, "Are you going to have Thanksgiving with them?"

She shrugged indifferently, "They invite us every year but I usually just stay home and drink until I pass out."

I just studied her, thinking of something to say to that, "You should go this year, you're a lot stronger than you were. You need to face them, Sam."

She took in a deep breath, "As much as I wish it was that easy, it's not. My family... well my mom... I just don't know... I wouldn't know what to do."

I just watched her struggle with this thought, as if she was actually torn between going and not going. I knew going would be painful for her, but it would give her an opportunity to talk to her mom and possibly forgive her for what she's done to Sam. Sam needed that more than anything. She just didn't realize how much her parents, especially her mom, had really damaged her.

I looked at her, "Maybe trying to talk to her would be a good idea, and maybe it'll help you forgive her for what she's done to you."

Her sad blue eyes looked at me, as if she trusted my word but knew it was going to be easier said than done. I didn't know Sam's mom, but from what I've heard she isn't as open-minded and accepting as Sam needed from her. She was set in her ways and there was no room for change, and that scared me knowing Sam would be in the same room as that woman if she decided to go on Thursday.

After all, her mom did throw her through a glass table.

I watched Sam struggle with the thoughts of her parents, as if she was trying not to break down in front of me. I knew she had to miss them, I mean they were her parents, but after everything they had done to her she was having the hardest time thinking about even seeing them.

But she needed it, because it was one of the few ways to finally heal herself and the plague that had overtaken her heart.

She refused to speak about them, but I could tell she was getting more and more upset as the time passed.

I questioned, "Do you miss them?"

She looked down then, away from my eyes and to the concrete ground. She had her hands interlocked, and I could tell she was battling something really strong by her body language.

She shook her head, "More than anything."

She was crying, I knew she was crying by the tone in her voice and the struggling to not sniff her tears away. It was the absolute first time Sam had genuinely opened up to me and allowed herself to become vulnerable, besides all the kissing, but this was obviously much different.

She finally dropped her head and allowed herself to break, and I finally knew what Sam was missing. She was missing the acceptance from her parents, the craving she had for finally being able to open up to them and be herself. She was a typical kid trying to please her parents, but after years of being abused and told no she finally gave up and accepted her fate.

But she still wanted it, because that's what every child wants. All they really want is the love they can't find in anyone but their own parents.

I didn't know what to do, mostly because I was more shocked that Sam was actually crying and I never thought she would ever do that.

But without really thinking any of my actions through, I pulled her into me, knowing this was probably the only logical-slash-illogical thing to do on my part. I wrapped my arms around her neck, feeling the dampness of her tears soak into my shirt as she just stood there, probably shocked that I was actually hugging her.

She refused to bring her arms around me, probably because she didn't want to seem completely broken in front of me, but she just didn't know that I wanted her to cry. I wanted her to feel safe in my arms, as weird as that may sound on my part. I wanted her to feel comfortable enough to open up and cry in front of me, because I knew Sam had suppressed her emotions for so long that it was finally tearing her apart.

I didn't know where to go from here, but oddly enough I didn't feel uncomfortable holding her. It was like a natural feeling, like when we kissed. It didn't feel forced or uncomfortable, it just felt like the right thing to do, which confused me because we all knew it wasn't.

If an outsider looked at us it would look wrong. A teacher, who was almost twenty-four years old, hugging her crying nineteen year old student would just seem bad.

But no one understood the relationship Sam and I had, hell, even I didn't understand it most of the time, but it didn't feel wrong. It only felt wrong whenever I saw her sitting in my classroom, outside of school everything felt like it was the right thing to do, as if there wasn't any other way for us.

She pulled away after a tiny amount of time of actually crying, as if she had come to terms of what she was doing and immediately stopped. She wiped her face and stepped away from me, shaking her head in the process, "I'm sorry."

I stepped closer to her without realizing it, as if I didn't want to be away from her, at least not right now. I grabbed her shoulders, shaking my head, "No, please don't be sorry Sam..."

She dropped her head again, as if she was embarrassed for what she had done, as if she was a child who had broken something important on accident.

She mumbled, "You're the only one besides Blair who has seen me cry."

I smiled at knowing that, already figuring it out because Sam was a secretive one. I knew Blair was her best friend for a reason, and that was probably because Sam felt ultimate comfort with her.

Which meant she now felt that with me, whether she liked it or not.

I responded softly, "Well, at least you're not ugly when you cry."

She lifted her head, "I'm never ugly, bitch."

I laughed at her, realizing I had the old sarcastic Sam back with me after her episode. I dropped my hands from her shoulders and just looked at her, not sure how to continue this conversation. I was confused and relived and all kinds of different feelings because she had finally come to terms with her emotions.

Well, specifically her emotions towards her parents, not really anything else, but we were taking baby steps.

I nodded my head in response to her comment, "You're right."

She seemed to smile at this, even if it was a tiny one. She leaned back on the railing and studied me, "You just called me pretty, I think."

I tilted my head, "You probably hear that all the time."

She shook her head, "Nope, I usually hear 'you're fine!' or 'damn girl, you're sexy as hell', nothing like beautiful or pretty."

I knew Sam was telling the truth even though she had kind of made her own bed in that department. She made her image into this major sex-appealed lesbian, and her sexual reputation definitely didn't help that situation with all of the girls she had slept with. She was wild and untamable, someone every girl fell for hoping that maybe they could finally tie down and keep for a while.

But knowing Emma was in a relationship with Sam but has never called her something like beautiful or pretty was a bit depressing to me.

I shrugged as I responded, "Well, you're welcome, for finally giving you your first real compliment."

She smiled, "I mean, you didn't really call me pretty..."

I knew what she was hinting at, and I couldn't help but feel myself blush under her gaze. She waited patiently, and I knew what she wanted to hear from me, but saying it would feel a little odd.

But who cares?

I shrugged, "I guess you're pretty."

She narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms, "Well that was a mood killer."

I held up my hands, "I wasn't trying to set a mood, Samantha."

She frowned, giving me the best fake sad face she could manage and actually managing to make me feel bad. I rolled my eyes, "You're pretty."

"Thank you."

I watched her glow in the moonlight, knowing it was pretty late now and we were still awake talking to each other like the day wasn't coming to an end. Miraculously the day had passed fairly quickly, which saddened me because it only meant the rest of the week would disappear as well.

And moving out would come soon.

She shook her head, "You make me feel so weird Megan."

I just looked at her, moving closer because the wind had picked up and it was getting more and more chilly the longer we stayed out here.

I questioned, "What do you mean?"

She sighed, "Like, no matter how many times you piss me off or upset me, or force me to remember the things I want to forget, I just can't hate you. No matter how many times I tell myself that you should be the last person I should want to open up to, I can't help but open up to you."

I smiled, thanking the Lord that it was too dark for her to see the redness on my cheeks, "Yea well, I have that effect on people."

"To piss people off easily?"

I frowned, "No, to make people want to open up to me."

She smiled, "So why in the hell are you a history teacher?"

I laughed, "Because I can barely deal with one Sam Carson, much less multiple Sam Carson's."

She nodded, "Touché."

It fell silent, but as usual it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just a random silence of thinking. It felt good being on good terms with Sam, and I felt closer to her than I ever have since meeting her. I knew she felt the same, even though she didn't quite like it because she wasn't familiar with the feeling. Not to mention that it was in fact with her American History teacher, but that's beside the point.

Then she spoke, "You're gonna miss this, being able to torture me at home all the time."

I smiled, "You're right, I love making you cry."

"God you're so evil."

I looked at her, "You know I'm kidding."

"I'm not."

I frowned, "You're gonna miss me too, don't lie."

"Trust me, the only thing I'm gonna miss is having a sexy as teacher to look at first thing in the morning. Oh and hearing you sing in the shower, I'll miss that too."

I rolled my eyes at her response, "God you sure now how to flatter a girl."

"Is that sarcasm I hear? I think I'm finally rubbing off on you."

I nodded, "Yea well, that's the only way you're going to rub off on me."

I hadn't realized what I had said until it had already came out of my mouth, and I knew when I saw Sam's mouth hanging open I had made a mistake.

She laughed, "Oh my God, was that a sexual joke?"

I turned on my heels knowing that this conversation was over and that we should both just go to bed. I went to push open the door but to my surprise it was locked, and the harder I turned the knob the more I realized we were locked out the apartment.

"Megan did you really just say that?

I ignored her, still trying to open the door but not having any luck.

"Megan Adams."

I turned around, "It wasn't meant to be taken like that, now open up this door."

Sam walked up behind me and asked, "Tell me you didn't lock us out."

I looked at her, throwing up my hands, "I didn't lock the damn door!"

She laughed, tugging on the door and proving that we were in fact locked out of the apartment. She shook her head, "Good job, now I'm gonna have to break into my own house."

I groaned, "It wasn't my fault!"

Then she stepped closer to me, and for some reason it made my heart stop right in my chest. She put her hand into my hair, as if she was going to pull me into her but instead she removed a bobby-pin form my hair and smiled.

I watched her bend it and kneel down next to the door, shoving the bobby-pin into the lock and working her illegal magic.

Then to my surprise the door opened.

She stood, handing me my bent bobby-pin and smiled, "Thank God for Sam."

I shook my head, "You know how to pick locks, that's not something to be proud of Samantha."

She smiled, "I also know how to hot-wire a car, remove the clothing censors, and where to get a fake I.D."

I groaned, "I live with a fucking criminal."

She turned around, almost causing me to run into her, "At least you're moving out soon right? Because I'm sure living with a criminal is worse than kissing the criminal who also so happens to be your student, right Miss Adams?"

I didn't really know what to say.

She sighed, "So technically... you're also a criminal, which kind of makes us like Thelma and Louise."

I was instantly confused, "Who?"

"Famous female duo known for fucking shit up?"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes, "It's a movie, idiot. Did you have a childhood?"

"Sam... shut up."

She laughed, "I'm your jailbait."

I shoved her, "Go to bed, Sam."

She gave me the fake sad face and then responded, "Will you join me?"

Even though I knew she was joking I still felt the want to agree, and I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Instead of answering her I just began turning on my heels to head back to Shawn's room, but a hand caught mine and spun me back around.

And I was kissing Sam again.

It lasted only a moment but then she pulled away, "Sorry, I just think you owe me one after you made me cry."

All I could do was look at her in silence.

But instead of lingering she smiled, "Good night Megan."

And then she disappeared into her room.