Guilty Little Pleasure
A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, I can't believe it's been eight months :/ It's really a bad habit of mine that I swear to break.
Forgiveness was only the start to what would be our relationship. Not a very happy one, mind you. Not the kind of relationship with Sam that I wanted since the age of fifteen. It was our first semester in college and Sam was my roommate. I asked her if she was okay with this countless times, of course I tried to be sensitive that Sam probably wasn't completely comfortable around me yet, but she insisted that she was fine with it. I was grateful she wasn't treating me any differently than before, but still I didn't completely have my friend back...
"Sam," I said, as I stared at my sullen reflection in the bathroom mirror in our dorm room. "Do you think I'm weird?"
Sam, who was getting dressed in the bedroom came into the bathroom, now fully dressed and joined me in front of the mirror. She gave me a funny look.
"I mean... do I seem... I don't know - average?"
Sam looked on the verge of laughter. I was insulted. She could obviously tell because she forced herself to look serious.
"Average like boring. Normal. Just another face on in the crowd."
"What kind of question is this?"
"Just answer me," I cried frustrated, running my hands through my already-messy hair. I put my face closer to the mirror and poked at my stomach.
"Look I'm too skinny. I'm not tight muscled like you." I was immediately embarrassed by what I said, but Sam didn't seem to notice or care.
She just shrugged. "Join a gym."
I glared at her, turning to the side. "I'm so flat chested," I complained, cupping the tiny buds of my breasts."I'm eighteen years old and I have the body of a twelve-year old."
"You could always get plastic surgery," She joked. I ignored her. "What's wrong with me? Why am I so plain looking?"
"Okay hold on there. You are so not plain looking," Sam said seriously. "Who cares if you don't have boobs or...muscle tone? There are plenty of other beautiful things about you. Nobody else has your creamy flawless skin-"
"Which totally needs a tan," I interrupted.
"- Or your model cheekbones."
"I guess..." I said, just a little flattered.
"And I like your small boobs-" She stopped. I know she didn't mean it the way she said it, but I blushed all the same."I mean, I think they suite you. You've always been the sweet little innocent one and a smaller chest makes you look that way."
"But I wish I looked like you," I sighed. "Sporty and sexy." Again, I felt stupid for saying such things aloud, and again Sam didn't seem to notice.
"Who wants to look like me?" She approached her own reflection in the mirror."I hate my hair." I turned away from her reflection and faced the real Sam behind me, stunned.
"Your hair is perfect! Do you know how much trouble I go through to make mine bounce? Yours is naturally curly. Mines all straight and limp. And it's so...brown. Brown is boring like mud."
"I've always wanted darker hair," Sam said, tugging an golden curl and letting it flop back down to her head. "I think darker suites me better. It's more...laid back, nonchalant, you know? Plus, brown's the color of gravy."
"No way!" I interrupted."You wouldn't be the same without your wild blond locks! You look absolutely beautiful even when you just roll out of bed. I have to spend half the morning making myself look all 'perfect' so that girls will even bother to look at me."
Sam gave me a disbelieving look.
"I'm serious! If I didn't straighten my hair and put on loads of make up I wouldn't get a second glance."
"Don't say that," Sam said quietly. "You are so perfect just the way you are, you have no idea." I felt tears forming in my eyes. I stared at Sam. "Do you really mean that?" She smiled.
"Yes I do. I'd trade bodies with you any day."
I snorted. "I doubt it. You're perfect."
"Far from perfect, Cupcake," She assured me."Now why don't we go on to class?"
"If we leave now, we'll be early. You've never been early for a class. Ever." I reminded her.
"First time for everything," She shrugged.
"But I haven't done anything to my hair yet." I fretted.
"Oh, who cares. I haven't touched mine either. I'd say we both look okay."
I sighed, turning to the side once again, cupping my breasts.
"Would you stop with that?" Sam sounded annoyed now. "You're boobs are nice."
I couldn't help my eyes averting to her chest. Plump, large, and perfect underneath her t-shirt. Sam looked down at herself folding her arms over her breasts.
"Stop comparing yourself to me. They're not much bigger than yours."
I sighed again and cupped my chest harder. Maybe it wasn't too late for them to grow?
"Oh, God." Sam threw her hands up in frustrated. "You just won't listen to me will you." She moved to stand behind me.
"Take off your shirt." She commanded.
I froze, stunned. 'Take off your shirt,' she'd said.
Sam had said it. She had said it to me. I could hardly keep my breath steady and my heart from racing as I obeyed. I had no idea what she had in mind. Just that Sam Puckett wanted my shirt off and I wasn't going to argue.
I carefully lifted my shirt over my head and held it against my pale stomach. Sam's eyes raked my chest and I felt goosebumps start to rise on my arms and torso.
Heat rushed to my face and I raised my eyebrows at my friend. "Well?" I asked finally, beginning to feel a bit insecure. I folded my arms over my chest (which she was still studying) and that got her attention.
"What!" I gasped. My face undoubtedly red now.
"Take off your bra."
In one swift movement, she had wrestled me to the ground, turned me over, and undid the clasp of my bra.
I had my bare chest against the bathroom tile. I looked up at her, eyes wide as she held up my tiny black bra with a look of gleeful victory.
"What the hell, Sam!" I yelled, too embarrassed to get up.
"I have an idea. You know my mom's fake boobs?"
"Sam, I don't need fake boobs to get attention," I said, insulted.
"Well, just a second ago you said you hated yours!"
"Yeah, but that was before! I don't wanna go around with plastic giggling around in my bra."
Sam cracked up at that one. "Ha ha, giggling plastic. Can plastic giggle anyway, Carls?"
I rolled my eyes and got up off the floor, snatching my bra from Sam's hands.
I ignored the fact that I was standing there, bare chested in front of the girl I was in love with. She didn't feel the same way about me anyway and she wasn't even a lesbian. She didn't even give my chest a measly glance. She just laughed at me as I put my bra back on.
"This might be fun for you..." I grumbled.
I reached my arm back to do my bra clasp and gasped when I felt Sam's fingers meet mine. Heat rushed to my face and I let my hair fall forward to cover my intense blush.
"I got it," She said.
"Thanks." I said when I could finally breathe again. When Sam finished, I slipped my shirt back over my head and gazed at myself in the mirror.
"Do you really think I look okay?"
"Let's just go to class already!"
We met Freddie and Gibby (who were roommates in the same building as us) for lunch that afternoon. Sam wanted to go for ribs and when Sam's in the mood for ribs, there's no changing her mind, though I was sort of in the mood for a salad.
I sat across from her, beside Gibby, as I watched her eat. At eighteen years of age, Sam was still the same old Sam. She had barbecue sauce on her face as she sloppily chowed down. I winced as I watched her.
"Sam, can I get you a napkin?" I offered.
"Nah, I'm good." She smirked, rubbing her hands on Freddie's polo.
He just rolled his eyes and continued eating. I was shocked. I thought he would have yelled at her at least.
"These ribs are sooo good!" Sam groaned.
Freddie looked at her with a smile. "You have some sauce-" He lifted a finger to swipe the bit of barbecue off the corner of her mouth. "Right there..." He turned away as he licked the sauce off his finger.
I glared at him, but he didn't seem to see me. I raised my glass of water to my lips with shaking hands.
That was nothing, I told myself. Freddie can't like Sam. She's always mean to him. He was just wiping sauce off her face, that's all.
"I didn't notice how late it was!" Gibby suddenly exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. "I have to go. Tasha and I are supposed to hit the movies. Later my peeps!"
"See ya, Gibs!" I waved.
"Can you believe Gibby and Tasha are still dating after all these years?" Sam said once Gibby was gone.
"Come on, Gibby's nice. And sweet, and..." Sam and Freddie glared at me and I shut up.
"So, uh, what about you guys?" Freddie asked, suddenly not looking at us.
"What?" I questioned.
"We're freshmen in college! You've got to be thinking about getting boyfriends, aren't you?"
He looked slowly at Sam, who was still focused on her ribs.
I still hadn't told Freddie that I was a lesbian. It's not that I felt he wasn't trustworthy, it's just that I felt I wasn't ready for him to know yet.
Freddie was still eying Sam and I was beginning to get a little more suspicious.
"Uh, no. Not me. You know me- I'm all about the schoolwork my first year here," I said quickly.
"I could care less about schoolwork. When Mama finds the right man, I'm all for dating instead of studying."
"Cool." He grinned at her before returning to his lunch.
I stared at Freddie with a raised eyebrow. Now I know something's up...
A/N: Okay, so I know this was short, but I just wanted to hurry up and update this. It's been to long and I want you guys to know that I haven't forgotten this story. In fact, I have major plans for it. It's going to be very, very drama filled, that's for sure. As I said before, this is NOT a Seddie story. This is strictly Cam.
But there is definitely something going on and it seems like Freddie may have feelings for Sam which is seriously pissing off Carly. Hmm...what will happen next? Review and tell me what you're thinking. I promise the next chapter will be up WAY sooner than this was.