you've reached sam

you've reached sam [ Chapter-4 pg 1 to 5 ]

CHAPTER FOUR

NOW

The bell echoes down the empty hallway as I arrive late to school. I missed the bus this morning. Now I have to make an entrance to a class that’s already started, and draw more attention to myself. I consider skipping first period to avoid this altogether. But I’ve been absent for an entire week of school now, and I’m already here. I might as well get this over with, since I’ll have to face everyone sooner or later. At least I remembered to set my alarm yesterday. But I never planned to wake up in Sam’s bed and have to rush home.

Sam.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around last night. The phone call in the woods. Hearing his voice again. It was all real, wasn’t it? How else would I have ended up in his room? Only seven hours of this place, I remind myself. Then I can call him again. It’s all I can think about. It’s what’s keeping me together as I brace myself for the rest of the school day without him here.

I take a deep breath before I step through the door to first period. All heads turn slowly toward me as the room silences. Mr. White pauses his chalk on the board, and opens his bearded mouth as if he’s about to say something. But he looks away and continues his lecture, allowing me to go find my seat. As I slip between desks, no one makes eye contact with me. When I see the empty table by the window with two chairs, my heart stops. It’s where Sam and I usually sat together. But I don’t stall for too long because I sense people staring. I take another breath before I walk over and set my things down. I don’t look at anyone. I just stare at the front of the room and watch the minutes tick, tick away on the clock.

After class, everyone ignores me. No one asks how I’m doing or looks my way. I don’t know what I was expecting coming back. It’s hard not to let it bother me. Maybe they all noticed I wasn’t at the funeral. Maybe they think I’m some cold, heartless person who feels nothing after her boyfriend

died. The rest of the day goes like this. Hallways grow silent as I walk through them, and whispers follow. But I keep my chin straight and pretend I don’t hear anything. I suddenly remember the photo Taylor took of me and wonder who she sent it to. Probably their senior group, everyone at the bonfire that night. I’m sure it made them feel better, seeing me like that. Thankfully I don’t have any classes with her or Liam. I’ve been trying hard to avoid those two all day. I even took the other stairs to avoid passing by their lockers.

At lunch I don’t know where to sit. I take my time placing food on my tray as I look around for Mika. I haven’t seen her all morning. Maybe she’s still taking time off from school. She hasn’t contacted me since we met at the diner yesterday. If only she knew what happened last night. After I called Sam and he picked up. But I can’t possibly tell her anything yet. Would Sam want me to? I should ask him before I make any decisions. If our phone calls are real, I don’t want to risk anything.

There are plenty of chairs open but nowhere to sit. I consider eating outside, but I feel everyone watching me. I don’t want them thinking I’m afraid to eat alone. I won’t be one of those girls who ends up hiding in a bathroom stall.

I search for an empty table in the back of the cafeteria. Something catches my eye. Behind a chair, rose jewels glitter along a white silk backpack. It belongs to my friend Yuki. Her smooth black hair flows down her back, long and beautiful. She is sitting by the window with two other exchange students—Rachel from Vietnam and Jay from Thailand. I head over and set down my tray.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Blinking eyes look up from cafeteria food and lunch boxes. Jay, who is a head taller than the rest of the table, removes his headphones and brushes his dark waves from his forehead. He’s wearing a striped blue baseball jersey he bought on his trip to Seattle.

“No—of course,” Rachel says. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail today.

She moves her bag to make room for me. “Please join us.” “Thank you,” I say.

Awkward smiles are exchanged as I take a seat between her and Jay. Yuki and I share a nod from across the table. We eat in silence. Usually, the

three of them are bright with conversation. But there’s a weight at the table that keeps us quiet and somber.

Without saying anything, Jay slides a box of mango slices in front of me. A sympathy offering. I smile at him and take a slice. Then Jay pushes a bag of homemade cookies toward me, along with those mini green tea Kit Kats that he knows are my favorite. They’re his favorite, too. I try to push them back but he insists. “How about we split it,” he says. He’s always been sweet this way.

Rachel smiles at me. “We missed you, Julie,” she says. “We’ve been thinking about you. We’re glad to have lunch with you again.”

“And we miss Sam, too,” Jay says mournfully. “We’re really sorry … about what happened.”

The table goes silent again. Yuki’s eyes flash between me and Jay, as if she’s reading my reaction to Sam’s name. To make sure it’s okay to bring him up. It does feel strange to have them talk about him like this. Like I wasn’t on the phone with him last night.

“Sam was a great friend,” Yuki adds, nodding. She tries to smile. “To all of us. We’ll always remember him.”

“Always,” Rachel says.

It warms me to hear this, especially coming from Yuki. She knew Sam longer than the others. She lived with his family during the first year of her exchange program. Sam was the first person she met when she arrived in Ellensburg, and he showed her around. His mother hoped it would help him improve his Japanese. The day after the funeral, she stopped by my house to drop off soup and tea for me even though I ignored all her messages.

Jay and Rachel moved here a few months ago. It’s their first year in Washington. We have a few other international students. The ones from Europe are treated like royalty and get invited to all the parties. Yuki, Jay, and Rachel, on the other hand, have had a more difficult time finding their place. They get the alienation treatment, despite their fluency in English. No one makes the effort to talk to them like the French and German students, so they rely a lot on each other. The terrible thing is when people see them together all the time, they accuse them of isolating themselves from the rest of school. I never noticed this until Sam mentioned it to me. Sam told me his friends would refer to them as those Asians. When Sam finally said, “You know, I’m Asian, too,” one of his friends replied, “Yeah,

but you’re … different.” Because Sam was born here and didn’t have an accent. Sam never said anything back. He just grabbed his things one day and moved to Yuki’s table, and I went with him. Now lunch feels empty without him here. Like something’s missing. I know the others sense it, too.

Jay passes me another Kit Kat and leans into me. “Let us know if you need anything,” he whispers. “We’re always here for you.”

I don’t know what else to say to everyone but “Thank you.” I poke at my salad with my fork as we continue to eat in silence. Much later, almost out of nowhere, I say to the table, “I think Sam would be happy to know what you guys said about him.” I know in my heart this is true. And I plan to tell him later.

At the end of school, I hurry to my locker to grab my things. I’m trying not to run into anyone. I just want to head home and call Sam as soon as I get to my room. It’s what we have planned. As I’m standing there, I sense someone behind me. There’s a tap on my shoulder.

“Julie?”

I turn around to meet dark green eyes. It’s Oliver, Sam’s best friend, standing a bit too close. He’s wearing his blue letterman jacket. His backpack hangs over a single shoulder.

“You’re really back…” “Did you need something?” “I wanted to say hi.”

“Oh. Hi,” I say quickly. I turn back to my locker and grab another book, hoping he’ll take the hint.

Oliver doesn’t move. “How have you been lately?” “Fine.”

“Oh…” He waits for me to say more but I don’t. Maybe he was expecting a different answer. I’m not in the mood to have that conversation right now. Especially with him. But he keeps talking. “It’s been a real week, hasn’t it?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Oliver asks again. “I said I’m fine.”

I don’t mean to be so rude. But Oliver and I have never been good friends, despite his relationship with Sam. There was always some tension between us I never completely understood. It always felt like the two of us were competing for Sam’s attention. There was a time when I wanted to get to know Oliver. Whenever we were together with Sam, I remember trying to start a conversation with him, but he’d always be short with me or pretended not to hear it. He would invite Sam somewhere and say there was no room in his car or spare ticket for me. So forgive me if I’m in no mood for a chat. Especially since Sam isn’t around anymore. I don’t have to be friendly. I don’t owe him anything.

Oliver was also one of the people there at the bonfire that night. Maybe that’s what he wants to talk about. I’m not looking for a confrontation right now. I shut my locker. “I have to go.”

“But I was hoping you and I could talk, or something,” he says somewhat tensely.

“I don’t really have time right now. Sorry.” I walk off without saying anything else.

“Wait—just for a second?” I keep walking.

“Please,” Oliver calls after me. Something sharp and wounded in his voice cuts me, making me stop. “Please…” he says again, almost desperately this time. “I don’t really have anyone else to talk to.”

I turn around slowly. The two of us stand there, looking at each other as people walk right past us. Now that I’m looking at him, I can read the pain in his face. He lost Sam, too. Except he isn’t connected to him like I am. I step toward Oliver, closing the distance between us, and whisper, “Is it about Sam?”

Oliver nods. “Nobody else gets it,” he says. Then he leans into me. “Why did it have to happen to him, you know?”

I touch his shoulder and feel how tense he is. Like he’s holding something in. Neither of us say any more because we don’t need to. For the first time, it’s like we understand each other.

“I know…” I say.

“I’m really glad you’re back,” Oliver says. “It was weird not having you around, either.” Then out of nowhere, he puts his arms around me and hugs me tight. The leather of his jacket is soft against my cheek. I usually

shy away from this sort of affection, but for this occasion, I allow it. We both lost somebody we loved. After a moment, Oliver pulls away and readjusts his backpack. “Is it okay if I text you sometime? Just to talk?”

“Of course you can.”

Oliver smiles. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I watch him disappear down the hall. It almost feels like we just met for the first time. It’s too early to say if Oliver and I might be friends after all of this, but at the very least, maybe things will be different.