You've Reached Sam(37)

But it didn’t matter whether he apologized or not. Mika lifts her other hand and delivers a final blow, sending him to the floor. I remember everyone around us cheering. Mika taught me that same move a few weeks later.

There are so many moments I wish I could relive again. Especially the smaller ones. The quieter ones that we often don’t think about. Those are the moments I look back and miss the most. Us sitting on the floor in Sam’s room doing homework together, or watching movie musicals in Mika’s living room on the weekends. Or that time we decided to grab blankets and bring them to the backyard to watch the sunrise together, for no reason. We stayed up all night, talking about what we wanted to do ten years from now, waiting to see that burning red glow curve along a dark sky, oblivious to the significance of seeing another day. And oblivious to a future when one of us would be gone.





CHAPTER EIGHT

NOW

I wake up the next morning to a text from Mika.

Hey. I’m outside.

I rub my eyes and blink away sleepiness. What’s she doing here so early? As I think about this, a gasp escapes me as I remember. The candlelight vigil! I was supposed to meet her last night and help out. But I fell asleep and completely forgot. She probably came here to talk face-to-face. I need to respond.

Okay. Be right down.

I brush my teeth, get dressed fast, and skip breakfast. When I come outside, I find Mika sitting alone on the porch step with her back facing me.

Her head leans against the porch rail as she stares out at the lawn. She doesn’t say anything when I step out.

“I didn’t know you were coming…” I say.

No response.

“Are you okay?”

Mika doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t look at me.

I take a seat on the porch beside her. An air of silence hovers between us. She must be angry with me. “I’m really sorry about last night. I completely forgot we were supposed to meet. I feel so terrible, Mika.”

“I really thought you’d show up,” she says. “I was waiting for you. I made everyone wait.”

“I’m so sorry…” I don’t know what else to say.

“I tried calling you. Why didn’t you answer?”

I think back to last night. I’m not sure what came over me. I must have left my phone at home when I drove up and down route 10, looking for Sam. And I remember falling asleep as soon as I got back. But I can’t tell Mika any of this. She’ll think I’m crazy.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” I say. “I just fell asleep early. I don’t have an excuse. I’m sorry.”

“If you didn’t care about going, you should have said so.”

“Mika, I really did—”

“No you didn’t,” she cuts me off. Then she looks at me, her voice sharp.

“If you really cared, you would have gone to everything else. But you didn’t. I don’t know why I keep expecting you to.” She leans her head back against the rail, sending a pain through me. “It doesn’t even matter anyway.

You were right all along.”

“What do you mean? Right about what?”

“How none of this really matters,” she says. “Like the vigil last night. It doesn’t change anything. He’s still gone.”

I think back to our conversation at the diner. I never thought it would stick with her this way. I suddenly wish I could take back what I said. I wish I could explain myself. Sam asked me to make sure Mika is okay, and I only made things worse between us. I’m not sure how to fix this. “That wasn’t what I meant,” I say.

“It’s exactly what you said.”

“It’s different now. I don’t believe it anymore. I wanted to be there this time.”

“So did I. But it’s too late now.”

Mika looks away again, staring at the lawn. We’re silent for a while.

When she readjusts her hands, I notice something in her lap. A piece of paper.

“What are you holding?”

Mika lets out a breath. Without a word, she hands it to me.

I unfold the paper and read the first line. “An admissions letter?”

“It’s a rejection,” Mika says. “From the University of Washington. They emailed me the other day. I got the official letter this morning.”

I read the letter. UW is a hard school to get into, but not for someone with grades like Mika’s. She should have been a shoo-in. “I can’t believe this. This must be a mistake.”

“Well, it isn’t,” Mika says back. “Joining a bunch of clubs and good grades don’t guarantee you anything, I guess.”

I touch her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mika…” I whisper, unsure of what else to say. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling, especially with everything else happening around us. We worked on our applications together, so I know how much time she put in. While I applied to two colleges, Mika applied to nine. She spent months tailoring each application, strategically framing herself with different aspirations and traits based on her research of each school. UW was her top choice. Out of everyone I know who applied, she should have gotten it. Nothing’s fair. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re still waiting to hear from other schools. There’s going to be good news coming, I know it. This is their loss, Mika.”