Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Forty Three

Sam

I sighed as I fiddled with my guitar, plucking the strings to Oasis until my fingers were raw. Sometimes it was the way I preferred to play, the pain easily bringing me back down to earth. It was something I took great solace in but usually ended up regretting several hours later when I had to carry out menial tasks like washing the dishes. Not fun.

I paused for a moment, before playing the opening of 'Your Song' subconsciously and let out a groan, ceasing my strumming. It was like there was nothing I could do to escape Rory, escape my mistakes. She was constantly there at the back of my head. Every trip to the bar I made after work, her voice would be there reprimanding me. My trips to the beach were haunted by memories of us, so much so that I stopped going altogether.

It had been three and a half weeks now. Nineteen days of being broken up, of not speaking to each other at all, not that I was keeping count but it was the longest I'd gone without seeing or speaking to her in over a year and a half. It didn't feel natural. My hand constantly twitched towards my phone, to call her when something happened. But I couldn't. Because I had fucked up so badly, she probably never wanted to talk to me again. So, I called Dean instead. It took him a while to agree to speak to me after our argument. He didn't understand, per se, but I was his best friend, even if he didn't agree with my actions.

"Hello," he answered.

"Alreet, Deano?" I spoke with liveliness. "What ya up to?"

"Who is it?" It was three words that knocked the air out of my lungs, not because of what they were but because of who had spoken them.

There was a moment of silence, followed by a shuffling sound, Dean returning a moment later. "I'm out," he told me nonchalantly.

"With who?" I faltered, clearing my throat loudly in an attempt to shift the pain I felt in my chest.

"Hurry up, Dean!" Was that Tom?

"Dean?" I warned.

"Harls, Jess, Rory and Tom," he muttered with a sigh, causing me to take a sharp breath. I didn't know what I was expecting, Rory was their friend too. I should have known things wouldn't be the same. "Listen, Sam, we're just trying to help Rory out, she's not been reet-"

"I don't need to know," I cut him off, cringing at the forcefulness of my tone.

"Don't be like that," he sighed.

"I'm not being like anything," I grumbled. "Rory's none of my concern anymore."

"Sam," he scolded.

"She's not. I was gan ask ya to do sommat, but you're clearly busy, so I'll just ask Joe and Drew," I huffed, ending the call before he could even respond and throwing my phone on the bed beside me. I stared at it resentfully, my jaw clenching in anger.

I knew I had no right to feel like this, obviously, there were times Rory was going to hang out with Tom and Dean, they were her friends, but I couldn't help but feel a deep, burning jealousy at the pit of my stomach. Part of me felt like the little, fat kid in primary school once more who no one wanted to play with. The one who was always chosen last for anything and everything.

Aurora

"Who is it?" I asked Dean with a curious frown. Dean, Tom, Jess and Harlow had practically dragged me out of my house, Harlow, Jess and I were currently sitting on the grass of the local park, Tom about a metre away doing keepy-ups with the football he'd brought out, waiting for Dean to finish to continue with their game.

I saw him purse his lips uncomfortably as he considered telling me for a moment, raising a hand to cover the speaker before he spoke, "It's Sam."

"Oh," I replied, feeling as though all the air had been knocked from my lungs. I knew Harlow and Jess were staring at me, I didn't have to look at them to feel their piercing gaze.

"Hurry up, Dean!" Tom groaned as he missed the ball for the fifth time.

"Harls, Jess, Rory and Tom," he muttered with a sigh. It was pathetic, but my heart actually dropped for Sam. He probably felt like shit knowing all his friends were out without him, but there was a small part of me that didn't care. It was his fault we were in this situation in the first place. But it was a minuscule voice that was defeated by my feelings for my ex-boyfriend and best friend. "Listen, Sam, we're just trying to help Rory out, she's not been reet-"

I shifted uncomfortably on the grass, curling my arms around my knees and resting my chin on them, avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Don't be like that," he sighed. "Sam... Sam! For fuck's sake."

"Just leave him be, Dean," Harlow told him. "This is his fault, he made his bed, he can't have a hissy fit because he's got to lie in it now."

"Harlow," I mumbled scoldingly, a deep frown etched on my face.

"Rory, why are ya defending him? He's a cunt!" she growled, although I knew her anger was directed towards Sam.

"Maybe 'cause no matter how much he's hurt us, I still love him!" I blurted, my tone firm and unwavering. Tom paused his game, letting the ball bounce to a stop as he joined Dean, Harlow and Jess in staring at me. "Can ya stop staring at me please?" My words were unsure and shy, the complete opposite of just a few moments ago.

Dean cleared his voice before speaking, "How's about we all go to the Low Lights on Saturday? I dunna about yous, but I fancy a drink."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Dean," Tom pointed out. "Unless ya've forgotten, Sam works there."

"Oh, yeah," he muttered.

"Forget about that, let's go," I told them with a small smile. "I can't keep avoiding him forever, besides, a drink sounds lush to me."

"Are ya sure, pet?" Harlow asked, sending me a look of uncertainty.

"Yeah!" I shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?" Instantaneously, a number of worst-case scenarios plagued the forefront of my thoughts but I pushed them away. I felt guilty, I was lying to them in a way, yearning to see Sam, even if it resulted in another argument, but these last three weeks had been almost unbearable without him. Besides, I was wanting him to regret breaking things off, a plan I was well aware could blow up in my face, but I didn't care.