“Are you disappointed?” he asks.
His question surprises me. I’m not sure how to answer it. “That’s not what I meant. I only meant … I—” I don’t know what to say. My mind is too far away and scattered to concentrate. Someone drops a spoon and it echoes across the room, and I hear laughter at the other tables. It’s getting too loud in here. More people pour in through the door, and I feel the café shrinking and myself about to get crushed.
“Julie…” Sam’s voice pulls me back. It’s the only thing holding me together. “I know nothing makes sense right now. The two of us talking again. I’m sorry I don’t have all the answers for you. I wish I did. I wish there was a way to prove this is real. You just have to believe me, okay?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
More voices fill the room. Then comes the sound of footsteps, followed by a blur of jeans and blond hair. The couple who came in appear with hot drinks, taking the table across from me. I try to steal a glance from the corner of my eye without them noticing. The second I recognize a voice, my stomach drops.
Taylor settles into her chair as Liam sets their drinks down. Sam’s old friends. They’ve been dating for almost a year now. They were there at the bonfire the night he died. I turn myself toward the window and lower my head a little, letting my wet hair fall across the side of my face. Of all the people from school I could have run into, it had to be them. I’m sure they noticed I wasn’t at the funeral. I bet they have a lot to say about it.
Sam practically grew up with them. They formed a close-knit group that used to hang out before I moved here. The group fizzled out a little once Sam and I started seeing each other. I suspect Taylor had her own reasons for this. When I asked Sam why they didn’t like me, he said people around here have a thing against those who grew up in the city. Probably because of our families’ “political” differences. Taylor’s dad drives a gas-guzzling truck while mine drove an environmentally friendly car. Kids rolled their eyes when he used to drop me off in front of school. My dad hated it here. He couldn’t wait to leave this place.
Maybe they haven’t noticed me. I’m too scared to check. I’m deciding whether to wait until they leave or move to the bathroom when a bright light blinds the side of my face, and I look up. Taylor lowers her phone that’s pointed right at me. Her eyes widen as she realizes she forgot to turn the camera flash off. Liam sips his drink, pretending nothing happened. They don’t apologize or say a word to me. My body trembles.
I can’t deal with this right now. I just can’t.
“Julie, what’s wrong?”
Sam’s voice comes back and I remember he’s still on the phone.
A car appears outside and throws headlights into the café window, illuminating me like a spotlight. I have to get out of here. I rise abruptly from my seat, nearly knocking over my chair. Taylor and Liam are silent but I feel their stares as I move between tables, bumping coats and shoulders as I make my way toward the door and throw it open.
It finally stopped raining. People are moving toward me from all sides. I duck beneath someone’s umbrella and hurry down the sidewalk with the phone pressed to my chest. As soon as I reach the corner, I break into another run. I run until the café noise and lights are behind me, and not a single passing car is in sight.
A single streetlamp barely lights this side of the block as I lean against it. The bulb flickers above me as I catch my breath. I remember Sam is still on the line. I put the phone back to my ear.
“Julie—what’s wrong? Where did you run off to?”
My head is pounding. I don’t know what to say, so all that comes out is a breathless, “I don’t understand what’s happening to me—” I am never like this, even when Sam died, I held myself together.
“Julie … are you crying?”
It isn’t until Sam asks this that I realize I am. And I can’t stop. What’s wrong with me? What am I doing out here? Nothing makes sense anymore.
Sam’s voice softens. “I’m sorry. I really thought that if I picked up, everything would be better. This is all my fault. I wish I could fix this.”
I take in a deep breath and say, “Please tell me what’s going on, Sam. Tell me why you picked up.”
There’s a long silence before he finally answers this. He says, “I wanted to give us a chance to say good-bye.”
I nearly crumble to the floor. There’s a lump in my throat that makes it almost impossible to speak as I fight back more tears. “But I never wanted to say good-bye,” I manage to get out.
“Then don’t. You don’t have to, okay? You don’t have to say it right now.”
I wipe my eyes and keep breathing.