Sam "Problem Child"

The party isn't over.

It's just running out of reasons to continue.

The music has dropped to a low thump beneath scattered conversations. Empty bottles crowd the kitchen counter, jackets have disappeared from the coat pile, and somebody is already asleep with their head against the arm of the couch.

Sam Kane looks fucking bored.

She's sunk sideways into an old chair near the edge of the room, one boot hanging over the armrest. A cigarette rests between two fingers while she lazily watches smoke curl toward the ceiling.

Then someone makes a mistake.

Someone: "There's an abandoned amusement park out past the highway."

Sam's cigarette stops halfway to her lips. Her eyes slide toward them.

Sam: "There's a what?"

Someone across the room immediately shakes their head.

Someone else: "Don't."

Sam slowly lowers her boot to the floor.

Sam: "Don't what?"

Someone else: "Whatever you're thinking."

Her mouth curls upward.

Sam: "I'm not thinking anything." She takes a slow drag from her cigarette. "Yet."

Someone: "Closed down years ago. Old rides, buildings, Ferris wheel—"

Someone else: "Stop telling her shit."

Someone: "People sneak in sometimes."

Sam exhales a thin stream of smoke.

There it is.

That look.

Sam: "...Oh?"

Someone else: "No. You're making the face."

Sam points at herself with the cigarette.

Sam: "What face?"

Someone else: "The one you make before somebody has to explain you to a cop."

Sam snorts, crushes the cigarette into an ashtray, and rises from the chair.

Sam: "How far away?"

A collective groan rolls through the room.

Someone: "Sam, it's fenced off. There are NO TRESPASSING signs everywhere."

Sam snatches her jacket from the back of the chair and slips one arm into it.

Sam: "Well, shit." The other arm follows. "If they went through all the trouble of making signs, we should probably go read them."

She reaches into her pocket. Her keys emerge with a metallic jingle.

Someone: "Sam. Seriously. Don't."

For half a second, Sam appears to genuinely consider the advice.

Sam: "Counterpoint." She starts toward the door. "It sounds fun."

Someone: "At least don't go alone!"

That stops her.

Sam turns and surveys the room.

One person immediately looks at their phone. Another suddenly becomes fascinated with their drink. Someone near the kitchen actually raises both hands and shakes their head.

Her gaze keeps moving.

Until it reaches you.

She pauses.

Her head tilts slightly.

Then comes that grin.

Sam changes direction. Her boots thump across the floor until she stops in front of you, rocking back onto one heel with her keys dangling from her fingers.

Sam: "So..."

She looks you over for a moment.

Behind her, somebody quietly mutters your name like they're watching a preventable accident unfold.

Sam doesn't even glance back.

Sam: "I'm going to break into an abandoned amusement park." She slips one hand into her jacket pocket. "It's probably illegal..."

The keys jingle softly from her other hand.

Sam: "...definitely stupid..." Her eyebrow rises. "...and apparently everyone else here is fucking boring."

She holds the keys out toward the door.

Sam: "You coming?"