You've Reached Sam

“I want to. I mean it. I want to be there this time.”

Mika studies my face, reading me like she always does. “It’s at eight o’clock, if you want to meet at my house. We can go together.”

I’m supposed to call Sam around that time. But I’m sure I can call him right after. He’ll understand. I don’t want to disappoint Mika again. I hate seeing her this way.

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Tonight,” she says to make sure.

“Tonight.”



* * *



I throw my bag on the floor the second I get home. The house is quiet—my mother must still be at work. As I open the door to my room, a breeze blows through the window, sending papers flying off my desk. I hurry over to shut it, but the frame is stuck again. I give it a few good hits but it doesn’t budge, so I leave it alone. I don’t even bother to pick up the papers. I just walk around them, leaving them where they are. I was planning to write in my new journal once I got home, work on my writing sample, but I’ve lost the motivation. Today was draining. There’s an ache in my left temple that’s hard to ignore. I keep thinking about Liam and Taylor and Mr. Gill and that stupid paper I forgot to turn in.

I wish I could talk to Sam right now. I miss having him around. I miss being in the same room with him, my head on his chest, talking through whatever was bothering me. He was always there to listen. Even when he didn’t know what to say back. I check my phone. Our next call isn’t until later tonight. I know I should wait, but I’ve had such a terrible day, and am so desperate to hear from him. His shirt still hangs on the back of the chair. I stare at it for a long time before I decide to take the chance and call him anyway.

The phone rings longer than usual. But eventually he answers. His voice is warm in my ear. “Hey…”

“Sam.”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon,” he says. “Is everything’s alright?”

“I couldn’t wait to call you,” I say. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. You can always call me, Jules. Whenever you need.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay. That’s good to know.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You sound a bit tense.” He could always read my voice. It was one of the things I loved most about him. I could never hide what I was feeling.

“I had a rough day. That’s all.”

“What happened?”

“Just some school stuff,” I say, sparing him the details. “It’s nothing really.” I sit on the edge of the bed and let out a deep breath to release some tension. Now that I have Sam on the line, I don’t want to ruin our call with talks of an English paper I forgot to turn in. “We don’t have to talk about it…”

Sam laughs a little. “Is this the real Julie?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you once complained to me for four hours about an overdue library book, remember?” he says. “You can tell me anything. Pretend it’s just like before. Let me know what’s wrong.”

I sigh. “I’m just behind on everything. And I forgot to turn in a paper.”

“For Mr. Gill’s class?”

“Yes, but it’s not that big of a deal,” I say. “We have one more coming up, and if I get a good score on that, I should be okay.” I glance up at the calendar that’s pinned above my desk. “And graduation isn’t too far away. I just have to push through a little longer, you know? I’ll be fine.” For the first time, I want Sam to know I’ll be okay. Even if I’m not so sure.

“Graduation…” Sam repeats the word, almost to himself. “I forget about that for a second. Must be really nice to have something to look forward to…”

My throat thickens at this. I’m not sure what to say back. “I guess so…” I say. Suddenly the image of me walking in a cap and gown doesn’t seem appealing anymore. Especially if Sam won’t be there. Maybe I should skip it altogether …

“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.

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