Chapter 2: Strained Ties
Final year in high school was a whirlwind, a chaotic balancing act that left little room for breath. Between exams, college applications, and the relentless countdown to adulthood, Sam could barely keep her head above water. The pressure was suffocating, and she often felt like she was running on fumes.
That's why Saturday mornings were sacred. They were her brief reprieve, the only time she could linger in bed and let her mind wander. But as Sam cracked open one bleary eye, her heart sank.
Amber stood at the foot of her bed, hands on her hips, an all-too-familiar gleam in her eye.
"Get up, lazybones," Amber chirped, yanking the duvet off her.
"Amber, it's Saturday," Sam groaned, clutching at her pillow. "Can't I just have a few hours to myself?"
"Nope. You've been avoiding me all week, so today, you're mine. Get dressed—we're going shopping."
Sam opened her mouth to protest, but Amber was already rifling through her wardrobe, tossing rejected clothes onto the floor. Resigned, Sam rolled out of bed and muttered, "Fine. But I'm not buying anything."
"We'll see about that," Amber said with a wink.
---
The day spiraled into a blur of boutiques, shoe stores, and fitting rooms. Amber was in her element, twirling in front of mirrors and critiquing every outfit with a flair that Sam could only admire from afar. Sam, on the other hand, felt like she was drowning in a sea of fabric and fluorescent lights.
"You'd look amazing in this," Amber said, holding up a sleek black dress.
Sam wrinkled her nose. "Too tight. And where would I even wear it?"
"To a party! Or a date! Come on, Sam, live a little."
Sam sighed, reluctantly taking the dress to try on. She knew Amber meant well, but all she wanted was to go home, curl up with her sketchbook, and lose herself in her art.
By the time they left the last store, the sun was setting, and Sam was ready to collapse. "Finally," she muttered, stretching as they walked to Amber's car.
But Amber wasn't done.
"Tyler just texted," Amber said, sliding into the driver's seat. "He got us tickets to that new action movie. Starts in thirty minutes."
Sam froze. "Wait, us? As in, you and me?"
Amber grinned. "And Tyler, of course."
"You said yes?"
"Why not? You never do anything fun, and Tyler practically begged. Besides, it'll be great! Popcorn, big screen, explosions—what's not to love?"
Sam clenched her jaw, her fatigue morphing into irritation. She had so much on her plate—assignments to finish, sketches to complete, not to mention the mental drain of the day. Now she had to sit through two hours of a genre she didn't even like, all because Amber couldn't say no.
---
The movie was as loud and over-the-top as Sam had feared. Tyler seemed to enjoy it, his arm draped casually around her shoulders as he whispered comments about the stunts. Amber, on her other side, laughed at every joke, blissfully unaware of Sam's mounting frustration.
Sam sat stiffly, her thoughts miles away. She could feel the weight of her unfinished tasks pressing down on her, each passing minute at the theater stealing time she didn't have.
When the credits finally rolled, Amber turned to her with a beaming smile. "Wasn't that awesome?"
Sam snapped. "No, it wasn't. And maybe next time, you could ask me before agreeing to plans I don't want to be a part of!"
Amber's smile faltered. "I was just trying to help you relax."
"Well, you didn't. I've got a million things to do, Amber, and I wasted my entire day running around with you and sitting through a movie I hated."
Tyler frowned. "Sam, it's just a movie. No need to blow up over it."
She stood abruptly, grabbing her bag.