Chapter Text
Toronto, Ontario, Canada: that’s where Sam Fraser had found herself. Hundreds of miles away from home on her definition of a vacation, though in reality she knew it was more of an escape. She’s not entirely sure what’s drawn her to Canada, she could’ve gone anywhere in the world easily, but she had settled for this. Like the city was somehow calling her name, beckoning her towards its high rises and cityscapes, and the hustle and bustle she is so used to back home. In a way, it felt cathartic yet somewhat intimidating; a presence she couldn’t shake.
Her feet moved her down the sidewalk with a purpose, though her head was unsure of where she was going, too busy buzzing with uncertainty. The streets were busy as she headed down Dundas St W in downtown Toronto, a random stop she had decided to get off the subway at. What was she doing here?
Some time later, she had eventually herself at the Art Gallery of Ontario, walking through its halls and perusing the artwork. Art had always had its way of making Sam feel better, or really to feel anything at all. The past three years had been spent in an empty void, trying to comprehend and solve a complex puzzle she wasn’t sure she had the answer to. Hoping to fix what she had so easily broken, but not having the courage to even begin.
Toronto was exactly what she needed. A new place to escape to that wasn’t filled with reminders of what she was running from, that confrontation she was avoiding yet needed to address.
The museum is busy, a pack of students roaming throughout most likely on a field trip, plus whatever business a Friday afternoon would bring in. Thankfully, learning to live in New York had done wonders for her social anxiety, and the mass amounts of patrons isn’t sending her into panic mode as it would have years prior.
She spends her time traveling through the exhibits, mental notes of her own ideas compartmentalizing in her brain.
She stops near a walkway that overlooks the first floor of the building, near a Matthew Wong exhibit when she first sees it. She leans forward, hands grasping the railing as she peers downward towards the familiar presence; the curly blackish brown hair, the posture. She feels a gravitational pull as her feet start moving, her body shuffling around other bodies on its way to the staircase. She feels out of control, like the universe has willed her to move hastily through the sea of people to get a closer look at what had captured her attention. But by the time she pushes her way past everyone and makes it to where they were standing, they’re gone.
Sam sighs loudly, looking to her left and then her right to see which direction they would’ve gone in. On the right was one exhibit, filled with patrons and Sam thinks that if they went that way, she’d lost them. Then she looks back to her left, seeing another exhibit titled Rhythms and Series. It had significantly less people filling the room and given the title of the exhibition, would be the better guess.
To her surprise, she’s right. As she enters the exhibit, her eye catches the same person she was certain she saw from atop the staircase: Deena Johnson.
The shorter girl was standing in front of a painting, furiously jotting down notes in a small, black Moleskin notebook. Sam almost has to chuckle at that, it looked like the same one she used three years ago when they were in college. Deena had always had her nose in her notebook, writing and writing, even when her hand cramped up or some other thing was going on around her. Writing. Writing. Writing.
Nothing’s changed, Sam thought as she continued watching the other girl. But she instantly takes it back because she knows it’s not true. Everything changed between them, and Sam’s not even sure what she’s doing downstairs in this exhibit and staring at the back of the girl who used to be the only constant in her life. She feels guilty about wanting to strike up a conversation with her because Deena owes her nothing. And it’s not like Deena would even want to see Sam right now, let alone converse with her.
So, she goes to leave, berates herself for thinking this was a good idea when a voice catches her ear. “Sam? Sam Fraser?”
Sam stops dead in her tracks, anxiously turning on a heel, and prays her face doesn’t look like a kid who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar. She meets those piercing brown eyes, the tentative eyebrow raised expectantly, as if to ask her what the fuck she was doing there.
“I— uhm. I was just—“ Sam throws her thumb behind her shoulder towards the exit.
Deena chuckles, slamming her notebook shut and shaking her head. “Never the one for words, still. I see nothing’s changed.”
“Right.” Sam huffs out, rubbing her arm awkwardly. How was it that after so many years, Deena could still render her incoherent? Still have this affect on her?
“And just about how long would you say you were watching me?”
It wasn’t accusatory, but Sam takes a step back and holds out her hands defensively. “I wasn’t! Uhm, I wasn’t watching you, I was—“
“Sam, relax. I’m just playing with you.” Deena grins that big, goofy grin of hers and Sam has to stop the warmth bleeding out into her chest at the sight of it. “So, I suppose I’m wondering what brought you to Toronto, but somehow, and this is just a guess, I feel it’s a conversation best had over a cup of coffee. I’m headed there now. What do you say?”
“Uh, yeah. Coffee sounds…” Sam pauses. What was she thinking? Could she really do that? Could she really just go get coffee with Deena and act like nothing had changed between them? And why was Deena acting so nonchalant and casual around her? She’s probably the last person on Earth that the brunette would want to see, let alone converse with. “Coffee sounds nice.”
“Cool.” And with that, Deena shuts her notebook and heads out of the exhibit with Sam following suit.
Sam leans back in her chair, sipping her iced oatmilk latte that she had gotten from the corner café down the street from the museum. Deena sat across from her, staring at her with intent, as if she was trying to figure out the puzzle Sam had displayed in front of her.
“Can you please—“ Sam pauses, sighing loudly. “You know I don’t like it when you watch me.”
“Right sorry. It’s just not every day that you run into an old acquaintance in another country.” Deena replies as innocently as possible, but Sam still feels the sting. An old acquaintance? Is that really what she had equated to, now? “So, what are you doing in Toronto, Sam?”
“I don’t know.” Sam feels small as Deena continues studying her. “I just finished with a gallery and figured I needed some time away.”
“So, you came all the way to Toronto to get a break from art, yet ended up in an art museum?”
“It sounds silly when you put it that way, but yeah.” Sam shrugs her shoulders, fingertips nervously tapping against the plastic cup. “I was going to take a trip through Canada, see the sights, and then head down the west coast. I don’t know, I didn’t really have a solid plan. Thought it would hit me when I got here, but… how long have you been here?”
“Give or take a couple of months.” Deena offers while pointing to her notebook. “Writing, actually. Next installment. Came here once before but it was with friends. Decided it was best to go solo this time, focus on my work, gain inspiration. You know?”
And Sam did know. All Deena ever did was write: her feelings, her regrets, her love, her hatred, everything that surrounded her and things she had yet to experience but longed to. Sam wonders what she’s writing about these days, but thinks it’s probably best kept secret between the two.
“Always the hard working one, I see that hasn’t changed.” Sam smiles nervously.
“I’m supposed to head to Winnipeg next. I don’t know, I guess I’m doing what you are. Exploring the sights and all.” Deena says as she looks down at the table.
“Winnipeg sounds nice.” Sam nods, taking another sip of her coffee. “They have some cool art museums from what I hear.”
“I thought you were trying to get away from Art?” Deena chuckles, looking back up at Sam.
“Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“Well, if you want, you could come with me.” Deena suggests and Sam’s thankful she hasn’t taken another sip of her coffee because she surely would’ve spit it out at that.
“Deena, no offense, but we haven’t seen each other in like two years. Sounds kind of absurd.” Sam rubs the back of her neck.
“Three and half, but who’s counting?” Deena shoots back as she fiddles with her cup. “And who says it’s a terrible idea? If anything, it gives us time to catch up while spending countless hours in a car together over old songs we listened to in college and loads of caffeine.”
“I don’t know…” Sam is hesitant, but of course she is. Last she checked, Winnipeg was about a 23 hour drive if they stayed in Canada and went through Thunder Bay, and didn’t cross through the US as a shortcut. Can she really spend that much time in a confined space with Deena? For all she knew, they were strangers to each other now; their ships that had once been docked next to each other and inseparable had long set sail. And what of all of their old wounds, would the stitches holding them together leak? Would their fallout be brought to the light?
“C’mon, Sam, think about it. You kinda came here without much a plan and your only end goal was to make it to the west coast. I’ve got to go to Vancouver and then San Diego anyways, so… take a leap.”
And Sam knows what Deena is really trying to convey: be brave. Something Sam could never do and the very reason for their falling out. But Sam had grown since then, and liked to believe she had gotten over it completely. Maybe Deena was right. This was a chance for them to get to know each other again. Just as long as their past stayed in the past, she thinks she can do it.
“Look, you always told me to expect the unexpected. Well, this is it. This is the unexpected.” Deena gestures around the table at herself and Sam.
“I will—“ Sam draws in a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’m leaving in two days.” Deena tears a corner of her notebook out and scribbles something on it, handing it over to Sam. It was an address and her phone number, the one Sam had never deleted, but it was obvious Deena thought she did. “Let me know if you want to go.”
On that note, Deena pushes herself up from the table and slides her chair into place. She offers Sam a half smile before she grabs her cups “7AM on Sunday.”
Sam watches as she turns around and heads for the exit of the café, trying hard not to focus on the way her hips seemed to move with a purpose on her way out. She bites her lip as she stares at the paper sitting on the table, glaring back up at her.
The address seemed vaguely familiar to her, so she pulls her phone out of her pocket and throws it into her Maps app. A little pin appears and Sam feels her stomach churn: it was the address of the random hotel she decided to stay at. And of course, she assumed, that it was the same place Deena had been for the last couple of months. They had been in the same place this whole time, and Sam’s finding it hard to believe that this wasn’t the reason Toronto drew her in.
Even more unbelievable to her was the fact that she was greatly considering taking Deena up on her offer, almost so willing to jump at the opportunity of alone time with the girl who used to be her best friend.
Sam [3:07pm]: please tell me I’m not crazy
Alice [3:09pm]: ur not crazy
Alice [3:09pm]: y?
Sam [3:15pm]: I think I’m about to go on a cross country road trip with Deena
Alice [3:18pm]: hold up what?
Alice [3:20pm]: u mean college Deena?
Alice [3:21pm]: as in the one who used to come to our dorm all the time? Y would u do that? Also how?
Sam [3:23pm]: yeah that Deena…
Sam [3:24pm]: ran into her at AGO and idk
Alice [3:25pm]: u don’t know what?
Sam [3:25pm]: I miss her and I fucked up and idk man. She invited me and I’m considering it
Alice [3:27pm]: im honestly surprised she didn’t throw a latte in ur face after what you did to her
Sam [3:30pm]: thanks for the confidence booster… idk this is a bad idea, isn’t it?
Alice [3:32pm]: on a scale of 1 to 10 I’d say this is the worst idea u’ve ever had
Sam [3:34pm]: great. Then why is my heart telling me to go?
Alice [3:35pm]: idk guilt?
Alice [3:36pm]: do u really want to reopen those wounds?
Sam [3:38pm]: I think I have to
Sam [3:39pm]: I owe it to her after what happened
Alice [3:40pm]: just update me frequently so ik she didnt murder u
Sam [3:41pm]: honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she did but I kinda deserve it
Sam [3:42pm]: kinda still in shock she’s even in the same country as me right now, let alone talked to me…
Alice [3:45pm]: ya same. Didn’t u tell her she was suffocating u the last u saw her?
Sam [3:46pm]: don’t remind me…
Sam [3:46pm]: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m going to go with her
Alice [3:47pm]: do u want me to plan ur funeral now or later?