Lies and Walls
Something was dangerously wrong, and I could tell.
A shadow fell across her face. She lifted her head just the smallest bit, her eyebrow cocked up towards the ceiling. Her lip quivered, and it happened so quickly that I thought I imagined it. Because, for a split second, there was something in Sam’s eyes that I didn’t recognize. I’d known the girl for years, and if there was one side of Sam I hadn’t seen, it was the side I was seeing now.
Almost as fast as it had happened, that look was gone. Sam extinguished the fire in her eyes, letting them cloud over and pursing her lips into the same dull, “I-don’t-give-a-shit” pout. She turned away from me, casually throwing her handbag down. She didn’t stop to pick it up as it slid off the sofa. That was typical Sam.