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Summary
Mon had always assumed she knew what falling in love would be like. It would be romantic and sweet. A slow warmth that would slowly sweep over her. It would be bashful smiles and intentional gazes.
So this clearly wasn't love. Not this ping pong match of hot and cold. Not this person who was so the opposite of her that she couldn't figure out how to avoid the proverbial land mines of conversation.
Sam was just Sam. Tee's friend. And Mon was just introduced to her because of Yuki and for no other reason.
Because Mon was already sort of involved with someone and Sam didn't take Mon seriously at all.
Except that Sam had slowly crawled her way into every aspect of Mon's life. Sam was cocky and bold and flirted with absolutely no shame even when she knew Mon hated her for it.
So this wasn't love, right? This couldn't be love. Because Sam was just Sam and no matter how hard Mon pretended that it wasn't true, she ached for Sam to be hers and worse still, for her to be Sam's.
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Mon had never wanted anything more in her life. This was her moment, her last chance. Because it really always came down to this, her and Sam, and their own little world.
Because perfection isn't eternal but sometimes, all you need is one moment. This was theirs.
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Waverly swallowed hard. There was something…unsettling about watching Nicole smile at someone like Chrissy, smile at anyone that wasn’t her. Especially not with that smile, the one with the dimples, and the shining brown eyes, and the tiniest hint of a flirtatious smirk.
Or, the one where Waverly wants to pretend like things are fine but Officer Haught is just too damn distracting.