You've Reached Sam(33)

“Have you figured out what your plan is? After graduation, I mean.”

“Uh—” I go quiet, unsure of how to answer him. Because Sam and I used to stay up all night, thinking about this. Mapping out a future together.

Where we would live, the jobs we wished for, things we wanted to do. Now he’s gone and I’m left with a bunch of plans that have been ripped in half.

“I don’t know yet. I’m still figuring it out.”

“You haven’t heard from Reed yet?” Sam asks.

“No … not yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll get in. Things will work out.”

“I hope so.”

Truth is I should have heard back by now. I’ve been checking the mail every morning for a letter from them. Reed is a realistic choice for me, given my grades. Honestly, I’m tired of reading books where the protagonists only apply to Ivy League colleges, and somehow always get in.

I don’t quite have the résumé for that. I like Reed’s quieter reputation that goes under the radar.

But I don’t feel like talking about the future right now. Not like this. Not when Sam doesn’t have a future of his own to plan out. So I change the subject. “I saw Mika today at school,” I say. “They’re holding a candlelight vigil for you tonight. She asked me to go with her. I think a lot of people will be there.”

“Mika…” Sam’s voice brightens at her name. “How is she?”

“She’s been better. She really misses you.”

“I really miss her, too,” Sam says. “I think about her a lot. Sometimes, I wish I could talk to her, you know?”

I move the phone to the other ear. “Why don’t you? That would mean so much to her.” Sam and Mika grew up in the same house together. You would guess they were siblings from how close they were.

Sam lets out a sigh. “If I could, I would, Jules.”

From the open window, the sound of a car coming up the driveway lets me know my mother’s home. I go to make sure my door’s locked in case she tries to come in, which she does occasionally.

“Can I ask you something?” Sam asks after some silence.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Since I’m not there anymore, can you look out for Mika for me? Make sure she’s okay and everything, I mean.”

“Of course I will, Sam.” I feel a pang of guilt that he needed to ask me this. I make a mental note to reach out to her as soon as we end the call.

“I’ll make sure she’s okay. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Sam says. “I’m sure she could use a friend right now.

Even if she won’t say it. So please don’t forget, okay?”

“I won’t forget. So don’t worry.”

“I know you won’t. Because you always remember. And that means a lot to me.” We don’t say much more about this. The conversation continues for a little longer until my mother comes up the stairs, calling me to help bring in groceries. “Anyway, I should probably let you go now,” Sam says.

“I’m sure you have a lot of work to catch up on. Don’t want to distract you from the world.”

“You’ve never been a distraction.”

Sam laughs. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Wait…” I say before he hangs up. “One last thing.” There’s something I’ve been afraid to bring up. It’s been burning in the back of my mind since I returned to school. But I don’t even know how to ask him this. It takes a while for the words to come out.

“What is it?” Sam asks.

I hesitate. “Are you … mad at me?”

“Mad about what?”

“About what happened that night.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Julie…”

I swallow hard, wondering how to say this. “I mean, what I’m asking is … do you blame me for it? Do you blame me for what happened to you?”

A long silence.

“Oh…” Sam’s voice deepens, finally understanding. “Julie—why would you even ask me that? Of course I don’t blame you. I could never blame you for what happened,” he says. “None of it’s your fault, alright? But…”

He stops there.

“But what?”

Sam takes some time to answer. “To be honest, I don’t know what else to say … I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that question. I don’t really wanna blame anyone. Because it won’t change anything, you know?

Nothing can change what happened. It’s hard enough to accept that…” For the first time, there’s pain in his voice, like something sharp is caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked—” I start.

“It’s okay, Jules. Really,” he says to ease me. “Where did the question come from anyway? I hope that’s not what you’ve been thinking.”

“I didn’t at first. But I’ve heard some people talking at school.”

Sam’s voice sharpens. “Forget them. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They weren’t there when it happened, okay? Don’t let them get into your head.”