You've Reached Sam (20)

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Blinking eyes look up from cafeteria food and lunch boxes. Jay, who is a head taller than the rest of the table, removes his headphones and brushes his dark waves from his forehead. He’s wearing a striped blue baseball jersey he bought on his trip to Seattle.

“No—of course,” Rachel says. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail today. She moves her bag to make room for me. “Please join us.”

“Thank you,” I say.

Awkward smiles are exchanged as I take a seat between her and Jay. Yuki and I share a nod from across the table. We eat in silence. Usually, the three of them are bright with conversation. But there’s a weight at the table that keeps us quiet and somber.

Without saying anything, Jay slides a box of mango slices in front of me. A sympathy offering. I smile at him and take a slice. Then Jay pushes a bag of homemade cookies toward me, along with those mini green tea Kit Kats that he knows are my favorite. They’re his favorite, too. I try to push them back but he insists. “How about we split it,” he says. He’s always been sweet this way.

Rachel smiles at me. “We missed you, Julie,” she says. “We’ve been thinking about you. We’re glad to have lunch with you again.”

“And we miss Sam, too,” Jay says mournfully. “We’re really sorry … about what happened.”

The table goes silent again. Yuki’s eyes flash between me and Jay, as if she’s reading my reaction to Sam’s name. To make sure it’s okay to bring him up. It does feel strange to have them talk about him like this. Like I wasn’t on the phone with him last night.

“Sam was a great friend,” Yuki adds, nodding. She tries to smile. “To all of us. We’ll always remember him.”

“Always,” Rachel says.

It warms me to hear this, especially coming from Yuki. She knew Sam longer than the others. She lived with his family during the first year of her exchange program. Sam was the first person she met when she arrived in Ellensburg, and he showed her around. His mother hoped it would help him improve his Japanese. The day after the funeral, she stopped by my house to drop off soup and tea for me even though I ignored all her messages.

Jay and Rachel moved here a few months ago. It’s their first year in Washington. We have a few other international students. The ones from Europe are treated like royalty and get invited to all the parties. Yuki, Jay, and Rachel, on the other hand, have had a more difficult time finding their place. They get the alienation treatment, despite their fluency in English. No one makes the effort to talk to them like the French and German students, so they rely a lot on each other. The terrible thing is when people see them together all the time, they accuse them of isolating themselves from the rest of school. I never noticed this until Sam mentioned it to me. Sam told me his friends would refer to them as those Asians. When Sam finally said, “You know, I’m Asian, too,” one of his friends replied, “Yeah, but you’re … different.” Because Sam was born here and didn’t have an accent. Sam never said anything back. He just grabbed his things one day and moved to Yuki’s table, and I went with him. Now lunch feels empty without him here. Like something’s missing. I know the others sense it, too.

Jay passes me another Kit Kat and leans into me. “Let us know if you need anything,” he whispers. “We’re always here for you.”

I don’t know what else to say to everyone but “Thank you.” I poke at my salad with my fork as we continue to eat in silence. Much later, almost out of nowhere, I say to the table, “I think Sam would be happy to know what you guys said about him.” I know in my heart this is true. And I plan to tell him later.



* * *



At the end of school, I hurry to my locker to grab my things. I’m trying not to run into anyone. I just want to head home and call Sam as soon as I get to my room. It’s what we have planned. As I’m standing there, I sense someone behind me. There’s a tap on my shoulder.

“Julie?”

I turn around to meet dark green eyes. It’s Oliver, Sam’s best friend, standing a bit too close. He’s wearing his blue letterman jacket. His backpack hangs over a single shoulder.

“You’re really back…”

“Did you need something?”

“I wanted to say hi.”

“Oh. Hi,” I say quickly. I turn back to my locker and grab another book, hoping he’ll take the hint.

Oliver doesn’t move. “How have you been lately?”

“Fine.”

“Oh…” He waits for me to say more but I don’t. Maybe he was expecting a different answer. I’m not in the mood to have that conversation right now. Especially with him. But he keeps talking. “It’s been a real week, hasn’t it?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Oliver asks again.

“I said I’m fine.”

I don’t mean to be so rude. But Oliver and I have never been good friends, despite his relationship with Sam. There was always some tension between us I never completely understood. It always felt like the two of us were competing for Sam’s attention. There was a time when I wanted to get to know Oliver. Whenever we were together with Sam, I remember trying to start a conversation with him, but he’d always be short with me or pretended not to hear it. He would invite Sam somewhere and say there was no room in his car or spare ticket for me. So forgive me if I’m in no mood for a chat. Especially since Sam isn’t around anymore. I don’t have to be friendly. I don’t owe him anything.