You've Reached Sam(3)

“What?” He stutters a little. “Taylor isn’t my date. We’re just friends.”

There’s so much I want to say, but the knots in my stomach keep me from speaking. I shouldn’t feel this way. Sam and I aren’t even together.

“Why are you leaving so early?”

I remember him under the colored lights, his arms around Taylor, but there’s no way I can tell him the truth. “School dances aren’t really my thing. That’s all.”

Sam nods and slides his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I know what you mean. They can be pretty lame.”

“Does anyone have a good time at these things?”

“Well, maybe you haven’t gone with the right person.”

My breath catches as I take this in. Even from outside the gym, we can hear the music through the walls, melting into another slow song.

Sam stands at the door, rocking back and forth on the heels of his dress shoes. “Do you not like … to dance?”

“I don’t know … I’m just not very good at it. And I don’t like people watching me.”

Sam looks around us. After a moment, he smiles a little, and holds out a hand. “Well, no one’s watching us now…”

“Sam—” I start.

His familiar smirk appears. “Just one dance.”

I hold my breath as Sam steps forward and takes my hand, pulling me close to him. I never imagined my first dance would be like this, the two of us swaying outside in the school parking lot. His face is slightly dewy from the mist, and I inhale his familiar sweet scent, resting my cheek against his chest. As I move my hands onto his shoulders, he notices something.

“What’s this?”

The paper cherry blossom. It’s tied around my wrist with a ribbon.

My cheeks feel warm again. “I didn’t get a corsage. So I made one myself.”

“I gave this to you.”

“I know you did.”

Sam smiles at this. “You know, I wanted to ask you to the dance tonight, but I was worried you’d say no.”

“What made you think that?”

“Because you never texted me. That day we met at the bookstore.”

I squint at him, thinking back. “But you never gave me your number.”

Sam drops his head, chuckling to himself. “What’s so funny?” I ask, slightly annoyed, as he takes my hand. He plucks the cherry blossom from my wrist, and begins unfolding it. I start to protest, but fall silent when it’s just a sheet of paper in his hands. Inside is a note with Sam’s name and number.

“I never thought to open it…” I say.

“I guess that’s my fault.”

We both laugh at this. Then my smile fades.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks.

“It’s ruined now.”

The paper is torn and wet from the mist.

“Don’t worry,” Sam says. “I can make you another one. I can make you a thousand more.”

I put my arms around him as we continue our slow dance in the parking lot, listening to the music through the gym wall, as the mist swells around us like clouds before it shifts and fades into a clear night sky, and the memory changes again.

Clothes fly out the second-floor window as I run onto the lawn that’s covered with my father’s things. My parents have been shouting for the past hour, and I can’t stand to be in the house anymore. I always knew things would end eventually, but I never expected it to happen so soon. Where else can I go? I asked Sam to come pick me up, but he isn’t here yet. I feel the neighbors watching me from their windows. I can’t wait around any longer.

I turn down the block and start running until everything disappears behind me.

I don’t even know where I’m going. I keep running until nothing looks familiar. It isn’t until I reach the edge of town, where the farm grass stretches toward the mountains, that I realize I forgot my phone. A pair of headlights shine down the empty road. As I move out of the way, the car slows to a stop in front of me and I realize it’s Sam.

“Are you okay?” he asks as I climb into the passenger seat. “I showed up at your house but you weren’t there.”

If I remembered my phone, I would have sent him my location. “How did you even know where to find me?”

“I didn’t … I just kept looking.”

We sit in his car with the engine humming for a long time.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Sam asks eventually.

“No.”

“So where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere else.”

Sam starts driving. We circle through town until we lose track of time.

Shop lights turn off one by one as the roads begin to darken. With nowhere else to go, Sam turns into a parking space of a twenty-four-hour minimart, and shuts off the car. He doesn’t ask me anything about what happened. He just lets me rest my head against the window glass and close my eyes for a moment. Before I drift off, the last thing I remember is the fluorescent light of the minimart sign, and Sam laying his denim jacket over me as I fall asleep.

I wake up on the grass at golden hour. Sunlight warms my cheeks as I push myself up and look around. The trees are full of hand-folded blossoms, hundreds of them, tied up with long strings, swaying in the breeze like willow. Once I’m on my feet, I notice a trail of petals leading toward the sound of a guitar playing in the distance. I follow the sound, passing through a curtain of paper blossoms, and remember where I am.