Girlfriends and Boyfriends-The Lost Episode: What If…
Summery: What if…what if Nick really had made a move instead of singing to Lindsay? What if Sam had ended up as Cindy's partner instead of Bill? Would things have ended up different? Chalk full of surprises, miscommunication, crashed loves and angst, welcome to the life of our two favorite Wiers…
All commentary and constructive criticism welcome. (Reviews + Love of writing = Future Chapters!)
Disclaimer: Not mine (sigh), everything belongs to whoever made the show, I take no credit.
Prologue: Welcome to hell-high, please check any remains of your self-esteem at the door and proceed to the next line. Thank you, and have a nice day!
Her footsteps were lost among the noise and chatter of hallway 101, the most challenging obstacle course since military camp was invented. Dodging prattling people, obtrusive backpacks, and the occasional falling book or swinging locker door, Lindsay finally made it to her destination--the burnout patio.
Pulling a strand of hair back behind her ear as she always did when slightly nervous, she looked up and spotted her friends, aka: the freaks, gathered in their usual spot. Ken sat staring bitterly at nothing as he always did, as Daniel and Kim went through their daily make-out routine. Then there was Nick. Sweet, adorable, Nick, whom she had kissed the day before in a rush of passion and pity. Needless to say there was a slight reason to be nervous.
He waved, grinned, and stood up to greet her. She smiled back at him somewhat shyly; after all, this guy had given her well, her first real kiss. (She didn't count her father's friend's twenty-year-old nephew on leave from the Marines visiting at Christmas, who after one too many spiked-egg-nogg planted a wet sloppy one right on her lips under the mistletoe.) She caught no trace of nervousness or apprehensive from him however, other than a slightly excessive amount of thigh slapping, as if he was hitting an invisible drum. He gestured to a seat next to him, as Kim stopped playing tonsil hokey with Daniel long enough to shoot them both a weird look. Nick just kept on smiling. He smiled all through the day at her, and eventually she lost her apprehension. After all, it was just one silly little kiss, and he was still her friend. But god he was cute when he smiled at her like that.
It wasn't long before a relationship evolved from that one kiss. Well, as much of a relationship that can evolve over a few days. They were teased unmercifully by their friends, especially Kim, who seemed to find the entire situation hilarious. But Lindsay was happy. Or so she thought. Sure she had liked Daniel…but Nick was great too. He was cute, and sweet, and musically talented, well ok, more like musically lacking…but the point was he tried his hardest. And it wasn't like he was just second best, it wasn't as if she was only dating him because she couldn't have Daniel…yet the vague sense of guilt refused to leave her, and that might possibly could have contributed to the mess she had gotten herself in…
"And now you will be assigned lab partners," everyone perked up in their seats at these all-important words. Lab partners were one of the few things that excited the students in the classroom. For these few simple words were filled with endless possibilities, from extreme luck, to extreme horror. The best and worse case scenarios ranged from being partnered with your crush, to be partnered with the class-geek, voted most unpopular…or most smelly. And today came the trial, in all its glory and splendor, the assigning of lab-partners.
"Ah, let's see…Bill, who should I partner you with?" Bill stared off into space, mouth hung slightly open, wearing the same dopey expression on his face he always wore. "Neal, Sam? No, I think it would be nice to be partnered with someone who isn't really a friend, so you can meet new people. Ah, how about Gordon Crisp? Yes, Bill and Gordon, you two are partners."
From the look of it, it didn't appeared Bill cared much either way, but a look of slight disgust actually crossed his face when Gordon plopped down next to him, books, pencils, stench and all.
"And Sam…Sam and…" Please oh please, Sam whispered reverently, even holding his hands together underneath his desk in prayer formation. "Cindy Saunders!" Cindy? Could it really be the Cindy, his Cindy, smart and nice and SO beautiful…perfect Cindy? And yes! Score! There she was taking the seat next to him! This was his lucky day! Or so he thought…
Ch.1 -Sometimes Intuition is Right…and always avoid the back of the fridge.
"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!" Lindsay said with a flourishing half-sigh. She tossed the brush onto her bed and glanced at the clock. It was almost time to leave for Nick's, for their first official date. She had been nervous all day, more than nervous actually. For some strange reason the absolutely insane, utterly absurd notion that he might want to have sex with her tonight had entered her head and despite her best efforts, refused to leave. And of course, her business was never her own, and everyone had managed to put in a good opinion. Between Mr. Rosso's usual non-helpful, not to mention slightly traumatizing, advice, and Millie's god-fearing sermon, along with her own parents over-sharing hour, Linsdey felt as if she was being torn limb from limb by a pack of rabid jackals. Her parents, God, her old goodie-two-shoes life was about to crash headlong into her new, wild, what-in-the-hell-happens-now life, and all she knew was that disastrous consequences were bound to follow.
Throwing on her sweater for the final look (and something she vaguely noted was much harder to get on than a jacket) and muttering under her breath, "Korean prostitute, for Christsakes," she left her nice, safe, secure bedroom, and entered a world filled with possibilities, and peril.
Sam nervously appraised himself in the mirror. Did this shirt look all right? Did he look fat in it? Uck, better change it quick before--DING DONG--too late! The shirt would just have to do; Cindy was here, at his house. Cindy was at his house. The thought gave him the goosebumps. The good kind though.
"SA-AM!" His mother called from downstairs, "YOUR LITTLE FRIEND CINDY'S HERE!" Note to self; never, ever let your mother answer the door for you. Nonetheless Sam bolted out his room, down the hall, through the doorway, and slowed to a sudden stop. He didn't want her to think he was too eager or anything, cause, like, he wasn't, seriously.
"Oh hey Sam," she smiled at him, "nice shirt." Hear that? She said he had a nice shirt! That translated to she thought he was a good dresser, which translated to he was cool, which translated to she perhaps just possibly maybe might like him…
"Oh, ah, thanks." Then remembering that he didn't want to make it so obvious he liked her, and remembering some old John Travolta movies his mother had made him watch as she oohed and awed at John's tight black T-shirt, he added a, "what this old thing?"
She laughed her beautiful tinkling laugh that always managed to turn Sam into a mold of jelly…
"Um, so you want something to drink?"
"Actually I was thinking we should start on this science project right away…it'll take awhile to complete."
"Oh, oh yea, good idea, um, my rooms down the hall if you want to study in there (now his palms were sweating SO bad…Cindy…in his bedroom…) or, um, the kitchen works too I guess." Why was he so awkward? It's just a girl, he told himself, just a girl, just a girl, just a GODDESS!
"On second thought, could we maybe have some carrot sticks and celery? I'm so bad, I just can't get started without a snack!"
Sam smiled. This was going to be a beautiful night.
OK, it was official, now she was nervous. No, make that panicked. She was alone, in a basement, with a guy she hardly knew (now that she really thought about it), with no chance of emergency rescue. And he was smiling! Smiling a carefree, happy smile. So ok, what did she do? Right, well, to avoid any 'awkward' situations, always trying instituting the conversation!
"You wanna make-out or something?" Stupid thing to say, very stupid. Of course he'd say yes, what guy in his right mind would turn down a free make-out session.
"Well…I was gonna sing you this song, but ok let's make-out instead." Uh-oh. While she personally had nothing against kissing, she had a) never really done it before except that one time she 'jumped him' (as Kim called it) b) therefore didn't really know how…c) Millie's voice played in her head like a record, "who will buy the cow if they can get the milk for free?"
He moved closer, still grinning, and encircled his arms around her waist. She felt herself lightly pressing against him as he began to kiss her gently, then more passionately. She fell into the kiss with something akin to excitement and dread. His tongue explored her mouth as she felt a sudden rush of grossness, yet strangely mingled with pleasure. And then he started exploring with his hands, and she let him. She was too nervous and too shy to say no. And he was SO cute…and he obviously liked her--a lot. How would he feel if she suddenly pulled away? Besides it was just second base, no harm, she could live with that…
Ten minutes later her all her clothes were scattered across the room, and a tiny shocked voice was inside her head screaming, "Oh my GOD!--What have I done?!?!?"
Sam tried unsuccessfully to cover a yawn; it was 9:27, twenty-seven minutes past his bedtime. But then again, John Travolta didn't need a bedtime…so neither did he.
"Yea, I'm tired too," Cindy agreed with his silent sign of exhaustion. "But we got a lot done, I really think we work together well."
Sam glowed inside; he was pleased. This entire night had gone smoothly…Cindy was a goddess, no doubt. Of course, they had spent most of their time researching, reading, and writing, so it wasn't exactly like a date (not that Sam knew what exactly one did on a real date) but still; it was quality time spent with his beloved.
"I don't know about you, but I could sure use a break."
"Oh yea, me too, um how bout a snack?" He offered.
"Sure, then afterwards I can call my parents to come pick me up."
The two wandered into the kitchen, waving to Mrs. Wier as she finished her milk and left for bed with a "hope you're almost done, kids."
A small blast of chilly air met him as he opened the refrigerator door. "We can have grape juice and cookies? My mom kinda finished off the milk."
"Hey works for me, I'll get the cookies."
"Um, let's see…where is the juice…juice…ah-ha! Here in the way back, that's weird. Oh well, hey Cindy can ya grab some cups too?"
"Sure." Sam tipped an imaginary bowler on his head and played the role of gentleman, "care for some juice madam?" Cindy laughed at his antics and sipped from her cup. "Hey this is really good juice…it's a lot more tangy than the kind my mom buys."
"Well we shop at a health store so y'know."
Ten minutes later…
"Ay sssay Cindy m'dear, care fer s'more jerce?"
She threw her head back and roared with laughter, as if Sam was the funniest guy in the world, "dun mind fer 'nutter glasssss er twe meself!"
The two were unknowingly drunk as hell. Hey, well, that's wine! I mean, erm, life…that's life…
Lindsay woke up the next morning and yawned lazily, her eyes still closed. Upon opening them and realizing her surroundings, she sat up with a gasp, clutching the sheets to her bare body. Her mouth was still hanging open when the guy lying next to her stirred and awoke.
"Hey beautiful," he smiled at her. Rubbing his eyes and he sat up and planted a kiss on her cheek, "told ya you'd have fun with me."
She didn't respond to that last comment. She was still in minor shock. Thoughts were racing through her head fast as wildfire…and none of them seemed to make any sense at all. However one thought stuck out of them all, a thought so horrible, so grim, so death-defyingly awful, she visibly paled. Her PARENTS!
With that one and only omnipotent thought to guide her she quickly leapt out from beneath the covers and snatched her clothes off the floor. She was dimly conscious of Nick's eyes on her exposed back as she struggled into her pants (never had the zipper been harder to zip. Stupid ice-cream cake at her sixteenth birthday.)
"I've just gotta go before my parents kill me," she muttered quickly, diving for her bra, which to her great embarrassment was sitting atop a lava lamp. Pushing humiliation aside for later (ie: a very tearful reunion with her diary) she snatched her sweater and shoes.
"Hey just chill Linds, it's gonna be alright." He tried vainly to reassure her.
"But you don't know my parents," she said worriedly, "they still believe that sex comes with marriage. God they're gonna kill me!" It was then panic hit her in a full tidal wave surge, as she closed her eyes and wished she were anywhere from where she was. Anywhere. That includes Antarctica, and Christmas shopping at the mall with her mom, who went racing from store to store waving coupons in the air and shouting at inept incompetent salespeople who wouldn't mark off three dollars for the hole in the red cardigan.
Nick put one foot into his pants as Lindsay guilty looked away. "Well I'll give you a ride and we can just explain that…um…we fell asleep listening to music or something."
"It'll never work," She said bitterly, holding a hand to her head. He didn't seem to be very worried…compared to her, whose heart was about to explode due to anxiety attack. How old did you have to be to have an aneurysm?
"Sure it will, he said optimistically, now let's go."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! SAMUAL WIER! WHAT IN THE WORLD!"
"HUH? Wha-?" Sam's head snapped up off the brown tile floor by a sudden jerk. Some cookie crumbs littered his forehead, and a faint purple mustache rimmed his mouth.
Cindy's head, also be-crumbled and grapeified, followed shortly thereafter. And her scream was definitely worthy competition for Mrs. Wier's. Sam was curled in a ball, encircled in Cindy's arms on the Wier kitchen floor. Things did not look good…
"Oh my, oh my, HAROLD! Get in here! NOW!"
Mr. Wier entered the kitchen bleary-eyed and decked out in a classic red old man's bathrobe, muttering and rubbing his face, "for the love of god woman, what could possibly be so important to drag me out of bed at the ungodly hour of-what in the bloody-"
Mrs. Wier was just about hyperventilating by now, as Sam and Cindy leapt to their feet, stuttering and trying to explain their 'awkward' situation.
It was by pure luck or pure accident that Lindsay and Nick happened to have the worst, or best, timing in the world. Whispering to Nick that'd it probably be best if her parents didn't lay eyes on him right now (as Mr. Wier might get the notion into his head to chop up Nick with a pickaxe), Lindsay stepped into the already chaotic kitchen.
"Sam, I want an explanation right now, and OH! LINSDAY! Where have you been?" Mrs. Wier was not above shrieking at this point, and already it looked as if she'd burst into tears any moment.
Sam blinked at Lindsay. Lindsay blinked at Sam. Cindy fainted.
"Oh dear, now the girl's gone and fainted!"
"I think she's dead," Mr. Wier grumbled, "Something like this happened at my high-school to a bunch of kids, and want to know what happened to them? They DIED!"
"She's not dead Harold, just get me a cold cloth for her head. Their now, she'll be awake in no time--oh my. Samuel, why are their empty wine bottles on the floor?!"
"W-w-wine?" Sam stuttered and gasped.
"Hey way to go Sammy my man, you got wasted!" Nick, once again, had impeccable timing. He just had to stick his head through the kitchen door and cause even more problems.
"WHO IS THIS GUY?!?" Mr. Wier roared, spinning on his heel to face him.
"Nick Andopolis at your service sir, and might I say, you're looking quite well this morning."
"Flattery is not going to work, boy, what have you done with MY daughter?!"
"Annapolis, what kind of name is that? I thought that was a city," Sam wondered aloud.
Harold Wier gasped and pointed his index finger at Nick, who merely grinned back at him. Jean Wier franticly tried to wake Cindy Saunders, who wasn't much help in the regain-consciousness-mission. Sam stared at a pile of empty wine bottles, which were just simply lying there. And Lindsay slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation. Welcome to her life. Pure and utter chaos.