You've Reached Sam (16)

Silence fills his room. I know he’s hurt by this, so I tell him, “I tried to get them back. But it was too late. Everything was already gone. I know, I’m terrible. I’m sorry—”

“You’re not terrible,” Sam says. “Don’t say that. I’m not mad at you, okay?”

My eyes water again. “But I ruined your gift…”

“You didn’t ruin anything. You can still keep it. It’ll be like before.”

Before. What does he mean by that? There’s no going back there anymore. “But the rest of your things are still gone. I’ll never get those back again…”

Sam thinks about this. “Well, how about you take something else of mine? Anything you want from my room.”

I had already thought of this. But I was afraid to ask. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Anything at all,” he says. “I want you to have it.”

I keep him on the phone as I go through the boxes again. This is so strange, a complete reversal of what I was doing this morning. I take the Radiohead T-shirt and a few other little things—a guitar pick, band bracelets, the hat he bought on his trip to Tokyo. Then I head to the closet, and slide it open. There are still some clothes hanging, but I find it immediately. There it is, his oversized plaid button-down shirt. Sam wore it almost every day, regardless of the season. I guess even his parents couldn’t throw it away.

I take the shirt from the hanger and put it on. For a brief second, I feel his hands on me, but it’s only in my head. I wipe my eyes with his sleeve. After a moment, I walk over to the bed and lie down. The phone feels warm against my cheek.

It’s been a long day, and an even longer week, and I don’t realize how exhausted I am until my body rests on the mattress that feels as safe as my own. Sam tells me I can stay in his room as long as I need. I don’t even have to say much. I just stay on the phone, listening, and feel him there on the line with me. After a moment, almost out of the blue, Sam says, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask him.

“For all of this.”

At first, I still don’t know what he is apologizing for. But then I realize what he meant. At least, I think so.

“Me, too,” I whisper.

Sam stays with me on the phone for the rest of the night and we talk until I fall asleep. Just like we’ve done a thousand times before.





CHAPTER THREE


BEFORE

It’s too dark to see anything. A hand moves across my face and pulls a string, illuminating the desk lamp on the floor between us. White sheets hang down from the ceiling light in Sam’s bedroom as we lay on the carpet with pillows stacked around us like walls. We are hiding in the fort he built with his little brother, James. Sam reaches over and moves my hair out of my face to see me better. He’s wearing his favorite royal-blue tank, the one that shows his shoulders and brings out his summer tan skin. He whispers, “We can do something else if you’re bored.”

James pokes his head in through the opening of the sheets with a flashlight. “I heard that.”

Sam drops his head, groaning. “We’ve been in here for two hours.”

“You promised to hang out tonight,” James says. He just turned eight years old. “I thought you guys were having fun.”

“We are,” I assure him, and give Sam a nudge on the arm. “Sam, relax.”

“Yeah, Sam. Relax,” James repeats.

“Alright. Another hour.”

I look up nervously at the ceiling lamp that’s holding the weight of the sheets, and glance around the fort. It looks like it could fall apart at any moment. “Are you sure it’s safe in here?”

“Don’t worry,” Sam says with a laugh. “We’ve done this a million times. Right, James?”

“Nobody’s safe out here in the wastelands,” James says in his creepy voice.

“That’s right,” Sam says to play along. He looks at me. “We should really be worried about what’s out there. Better cuddle up, and keep each other safe,” he whispers playfully. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

James winces. “Ew. Not in the fort!”

“It was just the cheek!”

I break out with laughter, then go quiet again. “Do you hear that?” I pause to listen. “I hear rain.”

“Acid rain,” James corrects me.

I look at Sam and sigh. “I’m gonna have to walk home in that.”

“Or you can stay the night,” he says through a smirk.

“Sam.”

James points the flashlight at our faces. “Mom says to tell her if Julie ever stays past midnight.”

“You would do that to me?” Sam asks, looking hurt. “My own brother?”

“She said she’d give me ten dollars.”

“So you’re taking bribes now, eh,” Sam says. “What if I gave you fifteen?”

“Mom said you’d make an offer. She says she’s willing to match anything, plus tickets to the Rockets game.”

Sam and I look at each other. He shrugs. “She’s good.”

“Let’s focus,” James says, looking out through the opening of the fort for signs of trespassers. “We need to figure out what the aliens have done with the others they kidnapped.”