༄ HER eyes opened with a groan.

Sam's first instinct was to move. It shot a slight pain through her shoulder, but she could live with that.

"Sam!"

The voice made her groan again. Her head ached, and it took a few seconds for her to regain memories.

Once she did, she shot up, not giving a single klunk about how badly that hurt. "Where's Minho? Is he okay? Jeff, we crashed and I understand don't know what happened— tell me Minho is okay and—"

"He's fine," her brother assured. Beside him sat her mom, who was staring at her daughter with pity.

"Not hurt?" She urged.

"Maybe some bruises, but he seemed okay."

She sat up even straighter. "Seemed? What do you mean, seemed? Where is he?!"

"Calm down. You're going to give yourself a head concussion, Sam," Jeff warned. "Minho is okay. He claimed he called Dad first, but he's at a business meeting so didn't pick up. Then Minho called me."

"But where is he?" Sam bit out, impatient and worried as hell. She took a glare at the clock.

Seven in the morning. She'd been out for at least five hours. They left Newt's house at two.

"He went home," her mother explained. "Insisted to go by himself—"

"No," Jeff cut her off. And Sam immediately knew who spoke the truth.

Minho wouldn't leave her while she was hurt.

"You sent him home," he corrected. Panic crashed into Sam. "You yelled at him."

"I was speaking the truth, Jeff," their mother spat. "Minho should've been more careful on the road. He should've known it wasn't smart to ride in the rain."

Sam's eyes widened. "What did you yell at him?"

"That I don't want him to get involved with you again. I knew something like this would happen! He's a reckless idiot, Samira. I told him about his faults and I'm really hoping he changes in that."

Maybe she was overreacting, but she couldn't breathe. Oxygen was thick and wouldn't get past the panic in her throat and chest, which were hurting like crazy. "You told him that it's his fault?!" She almost screamed.

Edith shot up, pointing a finger at Sam. "It is his fault, and at least he's aware of it now! Lie back down and recover from this fool accident, Samira. I don't want you to hang out with him again."

Tears nearly sprung in her eyes, but she held them back. If her mother told him it was his fault while Minho probably already blamed himself, things were bad.

The girl rushed up. Minho's house was just a few miles away from hers. She could make that.

"Samira, get back here!" Her mother attempted to grab her arm, but Sam pushed the woman away, anger consuming.

Then, she went for the run.

❤︎︎

Could people die from harming themselves?

Had her father helped Minho enough to prevent this?
She didn't know.

"Hey!"

Before Sam could even continue running, her arm got grabbed and she was pulled closer to a dark alley.

A dark figure stood in front of her, his posture letting her know it was a male, but she didn't recognize his smell or voice when he slugged some drunk words about how she was a pretty girl and he'd love to take care of her.

Sam groaned. Right away, she slammed her knee into his crotch, the thing her dad always taught her to do if perverts decided to interfere, and continued running toward Minho's house.

She rang the doorbell and knocked on his door a million times, but no one opened and she panicked even more. In a rush, Sam looked around. Most people hid keys under plant pots or something.

She looked everywhere, but couldn't find anything.

Of course. Minho was smart enough to realize it is dumb to hide your keys where everyone can find them.

The window, then.

Full of adrenaline and worry and anger, Sam grabbed a small ladder that stood in the messy front garden and climbed up the garage. She risked a lot when she walked over the sloping roof, then knocked on Minho's window.

The curtains were closed. Light shined through some holes but that still didn't confirm he was there. Or even conscious.

"Minho," she knocked again. "It's Sam. Would you open up? Please?"

No response.

She bit her lip. "I might fall soon. Unfortunately not for you, because one, I can't see you, and two... well, I've already fallen for you."

Man, what was she saying?

The silence vibrated by the wind. Sam took a shaky breath. "In case you didn't hear, it's Sam... Sammy. I—"

Finally, the curtain moved and Minho's face got revealed. Sam gasped from happiness, yet didn't have time to inspect him because three seconds later, she was pulled in his arms.

He squeezed her so tightly she thought she would suffocate, but hugged back just as firm. He pressed her into his chest, one hand on the back of her head and the other one on her back.

"Don't believe a thing my mom says," she said immediately. "It's not your fault. You—"

"I know," he mumbled in her hair, and Sam looked up in surprise, eyes wide.

A part of her felt guilty she had thought he harmed himself, another part only got happier because she was even prouder of him now.

She smiled. Whispered, "Good."

"Oh, my God!" Newt stormed into the room. Sam yelped at the way he suddenly slammed the door open, then frowned.

"The hell are you doing here?"

Newt stopped. His eyes flashed from Minho to Sam. "Minho called. Asked if I could come over."

"Ah." She nodded.

"Are you two alright? Not hurt?" He plopped down on a chair as the couple sat on Minho's bed.

"Not hurt." Minho turned his head to his girlfriend. "Wait— are you hurt? If you're hurt you should—"

"I'm not hurt," she assured fast. "Don't worry."

"Alright." A relieved breath left Minho's mouth. "I'll go get something to drink, then. What do y'all want?"

"Water is fine," they said in unison.

The second Minho disappeared out of sight, Newt snorted.

Sam pulled a face. "What?"

"Did you see his expression when he realized he never checked if you were hurt?"

"Uh— I don't know. Was something up about it?"

"He looked like he saw a ghost!" Newt held back another laugh. "Okay, wait a second."

Sam frowned.

"OH MY GOD!" He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell even harder. "IS THAT A BRUISE? ARE YOU BLEEDING? IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S BROKEN!"

Not three seconds later, glass had shattered and Minho came running into the room, his face full of worry before he checked Sam for injuries, who sighed at Newt.

The blonde nearly rolled over the floor from how hard he was laughing. In surprise, Sam watched him. He never really seemed this unserious.

"Are you kidding me, Newt?" Minho groaned once he realized Sam wasn't injured at all. "I dropped glasses!"

His eyes squinted. "Your face!"

"What if I tell you Thomas just called?"

Newt's smile faded. "No, he didn't."

"Maybe he did."

"He'd call me first."

Minho raised an eyebrow. "What if your phone was on silent?"

Newt grabbed his phone as Sam chuckled and Minho hid a laugh.

"You're a real idiot, Newton."

"Shut up, Minholeedongdong."

Sam held onto the boy to stop herself from falling off the couch, tears springing in her eyes at how hard she laughed.

"Don't laugh!" Newt urged. "It's his full name! Disrespectful. He must be insecure now."

"That is not my full name, you annoying—"

"Calm down!"

"My full name is Minho Lee and nothing else!"

"Oh, really?"

"In a few years, Minho Lee Gray," he added. "So shut up, Newt freaking Edison."

"Y'all are crazy." Sam scoffed, yet her face turned red and Minho's words. "Is this how you two communicate as the two boyfriends?"

"How do you and Thomas communicate, then?"

"I may hope y'all don't pretend you're doing dirty things everyday! Also, that joke wasn't funny."

She shrugged. "Well... we talk."

"About?"

"You guys."

Newt and Minho shared a glance. They pointed at each other. "Us?"

"Did you tell him I'm such a hilarious, beautiful boyfriend, Sammy?"

"Partly," she said. Satisfied, Minho grinned.

"Do y'all gossip about us?"

"Uh." Sam touched her lips. "Close enough."

"I want to hear the gossip about me." Newt sat down on the bed, too.

"Spill!"

Sam sighed. Buried her head in her hands. "We talk about... things."

"Things."

"What kind of things?"

"Did I do something I'm not aware of?"

She stared at them. "I'm not sure how to word this."

"Tell me what Tommy said about me."

A groan escaped her mouth from embarrassment. Saying what Thomas thought about Newt out loud was weird. "He thinks you're... a good kisser," she peeped. "And- no, this is Thomas's privacy!"

She'd expose Thomas if she explained his full description of Newt's chest and how his lips tasted and how obsessed he was with the boy.

"Tell me!"

With wider eyes, Minho scooted closer. "What did you say about me?"

"That's private."

"Ah, come on!" They protested. "We want to know."

"Y'all said you didn't gossip."

"We do, actually. Well, we don't gossip but we do talk about you and Thomas."

Sam sat straight up. "What did you say about me?"

"That's private," he mimicked.

She crossed her arms. "Fine."

"He said—"

Minho smashed a pillow into Newt's face before he could finish his sentence. "I didn't say anything."

"Whe swaid whe gweats ekswoated rwound ywou," Newt spoke, the pillow still covering his mouth. "I cwant bweatee mianho."

Minho removed the pillow with a grunt. "Shut the hell up, Newt. I know you and Thomas—" pillow "—hwave dwone wid mwultiwble twimet."

Newt yelped. "Don't believe him, Sam!"

"I believe Thomas already told me every single detail of your relationship. There's not much I can't know."