You've Reached Sam(4)

Our secret spot at the lake. The place we’ve met a hundred times before.

The moment I break through the trees, and catch the sunlight shimmer across the water, I find him there waiting for me.

“Julie—” Sam calls my name as he sets his guitar down. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming…”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here,” I say.

He takes my hands. “I’ll always be here for you, Jules.”

I don’t question this. At least, not right now.

We sit near the lake and stare out at the water. Clouds move slowly across a pink sky. Sometimes, I wish the sun would never set, so we could stay here, enjoying each other’s company, talking like we always do, laughing at inside jokes, pretending like nothing could ever go wrong. I look at Sam, and take in his face, his beautiful smile, his black hair that sweeps across his forehead, his tan skin, and wish I could freeze this moment and hold on to it forever. But I can’t. Even in a dream, I can’t seem to stop time. The clouds are thickening above us, and there’s a strange tremble beneath the earth. Sam must have noticed this, too, because he rises to his feet.

I grab his hand. “Don’t go yet.”

Sam looks at me. “Julie … if I could stay with you, I’d never leave.”

“But you did leave.”

“I know … I’m sorry.”

“You never said good-bye…”

“That’s because I never thought I had to…”

Out of nowhere, a wind sweeps in from behind us, as if it’s come to take him away from me. Behind the trees, the sun starts to fall, casting shadows across the water. It isn’t supposed to end like this. This was just the beginning. Our story has barely started. My heart pounds inside my chest. I squeeze Sam’s hand harder to keep him from leaving.

“This isn’t fair, Sam—” I start, but my throat catches, as I feel tears forming behind my eyes.

Sam kisses me one last time. “I know this wasn’t part of our plan, Julie.

But at least we had this time together, right? I want you to know … if I could do it all over again, I would. Every second of it.”

If the ending is this painful, I don’t know if this was worth it all.

My grip loosens as I think about this. “I’m sorry, Sam…” I say, stepping back. “But I don’t think I can say the same…”

Sam stares at me as if he’s waiting for me to take back my words. But there’s no time left. Sam starts to disappear before me, dissolving into cherry blossom petals. I stand watching as the wind picks up and pulls them through the air. Before he’s completely gone, I reach out to grab a single petal and hold it tight against my chest. But somehow it slips through my fingers and vanishes into the sky. Just like the rest of him.





CHAPTER ONE

NOW

MARCH 7 11:09 P.M. Don’t bother picking me up anymore. I can walk home.

I did walk home. All five miles from the bus station, dragging an overstuffed carry-on with a broken wheel in the middle of the night. Sam kept trying to reach me. Twelve unread messages, seven missed calls, and one voice mail. But I ignored them all and kept walking. Reading these back again, I wish I hadn’t been so angry at him. I wish I had picked up the phone. Maybe then everything would be different.

Morning light comes through the curtains as I lay curled in bed, listening to Sam’s voice mail again.

“Julie—you there?” Some laughter in the background, and crackling from the bonfire. “I’m so sorry! I completely spaced. But I’m leaving now!

Okay? Just wait there! Should only take me an hour. I know, I feel terrible.

Please don’t be mad. Call me back, okay?”

If only he’d listened to me and stayed with his friends. If only he didn’t forget about me in the first place. If only he just this once let me be upset instead of always trying to fix things, no one would be blaming me for what happened. I wouldn’t be blaming me.

I play the voice mail a few more times before I delete everything. Then I climb out of bed and start upending drawers, looking for anything that was Sam’s or reminds me of him. I find photos of us, birthday cards, movie ticket stubs, paper blossoms, stupid gifts like the stuffed lizard he won at the town fair last fall, as well as every mix CD he made me over the years (who even burns CDs anymore?), and cram them all into a box.

Every day these little reminders of him get harder to look at. They say moving on becomes easier with time, but I can barely hold a photo without my hands trembling. My thoughts go to him, they always do. I can’t keep you around, Sam. It makes me think you’re still here. That you’re coming back. That I might see you again.

Once I have everything collected, I take a long look at my room. I never realized how much of him I had lying around. It feels so empty now. Like there’s a void in the air. Like something’s missing. I take a few deep breaths before I grab the box and leave my room. It’s the first time this week I managed to get out of bed before noon. I only make two steps out the door before I realize I forgot something. I set the box down and turn back to get it. Inside my closet is Sam’s denim jacket. The one with the wool collar and embroidered patches (band logos and flags of places he’s traveled) along the sleeves that he ironed on himself. I’ve had it for so long, and wear it so often, I forgot it was his.