Chapter 5
SAM WAS READY TO TELL her. But how do you tell your best friend that you’ve been in love with her for years? Would Susan think he was a fraud? They’d shared their deepest thoughts. They’d spent weekends together going to the library to study, going to the cinema, or bowling with their group of friends. When they were kids, they rode bikes, built a treehouse, and collected bugs for an insect collection.
He couldn’t think of a time when Susan wasn’t the first person he wanted to talk to. Anything that happened in his life, he wanted to tell her.
And now, he needed to tell her this.
In the school halls that afternoon, he’d overheard a group of guys talking about who they were going to invite to the spring dance. Susan’s name had come up. Jerry wanted to ask her.
Sam knew for a fact that Susan didn’t have a crush on Jerry, but she thought he was a swell enough guy. That might change if they went on a fancy date, and she might start to like him. Sam had been privy to all of Susan’s crushes over the years. They started out strong, but fizzled quickly. They always laughed about that. Ironically, Sam never had crushes on other girls. Sure, he’d date, mostly double dating with Susan and her current crush. But he had never wanted anyone more than he wanted her.
He found her in her backyard after knocking on her front door.
“Hey,” he said, spying her lounging on the hammock with a book in her hand. She was always reading something, and invariably, he’d end up reading it, too, just so they could have a conversation about the book.
“Hey.” Susan turned her head and gave him a lazy smile.
He loved her smile. He loved the way her lips quirked, and he loved the light blue of her eyes, and the freckles that seemed to dance along her skin.
“Your mom said you were back here. Are you busy?”
She held up the book. “Not really. Have you read My Antonia?”
“Not yet—you getting ahead in English class?”
“I’ve read it before,” Susan said, moving to sit up on the hammock. She patted the space next to her.
Sam didn’t hesitate to join her. Sitting next to her on the hammock would mean that their shoulders would be pressed together. He didn’t mind, but he also wondered if it was the best situation to confess to her. “Of course you’ve read it before. Is it good?”
Susan laughed.
He loved her laugh too.
“Do you think our English teacher would assign a bad book?” She nudged his shoulder.
He nudged her back. “I guess not.” She smelled of strawberries—he already knew it was her shampoo because she’d told him once.
She used her foot to propel them into a swaying motion. “Did you get the job?”
“No,” Sam said. “They gave it to a man with a family. He’s a war veteran.”
Susan’s brows lifted. “The gas station doesn’t pay enough to support a family.”
“It doesn’t, but my folks say things are getting more desperate around here.” He shook his head. With all the soldiers having returned from war, the jobs were snatched up in minutes.
“Yeah, my mom said we have to start scrimping more. No extras.”
They swayed for a couple more minutes, then Sam said, “You thinking about going to the Spring Fling?”
Susan scrunched her nose. “That’s weeks away. No one’s asking yet.”
“I overheard some guys talking about it.”
She turned to look at him. “Already?”
“Yeah.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I won’t have a dress, so I’ll probably stay home. Are you asking someone?”
“I want to ask someone, but I don’t know if she’ll say yes.”
Susan gave a small laugh. “She’ll say yes. You’re a catch, Sam Davis.”
“I am?”
“I mean, you shower, you’re on the baseball team, you have goals in life, and you’re not terrible looking.”
He knew she was teasing, but what if she was serious too? “Does that mean I’m good-looking?”
She smirked, those rosy lips of her curving. “You know, in a nice-boy way.”
“I’m not a dreamboat.”
She drew back so their arms were no longer touching, and acted as if she were evaluating him. “Maybe you’d be a dreamboat for the right girl.”
“Not you?”
She laughed, then shoved his arm. But she was blushing too. “You’re nuts, Sam. You’re like my...brother.”
He knew it—of course he knew it—but hearing her say the words felt like she’d socked him in the stomach. He thought he’d kept his expression neutral, but apparently he hadn’t.
“Sam?” Her mouth dropped open. Then she scrambled off the hammock and faced him. “Do you...” Her voice cut off as if she wasn’t physically able to finish the question.
He was at a crossroads. He could laugh this off, say he was teasing, meant nothing by it. Or...he could confess. He decided to do what he’d come here for. Rising to his feet, he swallowed, then said, “Look, Susan, I need to tell you something.”
She took a step back, her eyes rounded.
He folded his arms, then unfolded them and set his hands on his hips. “I’d like to take you to the Spring Fling. You don’t need to worry about a new dress. You’d look beautiful in anything.”
Was he talking too fast? “And I, uh, we could go as friends like we’ve always been. But if there’s any chance you see me as something other than a buddy, or a brother”—he winced—“I wouldn’t mind that either.” He drew in a breath, although he wasn’t sure if Susan was breathing at all. “I like you, Susan. As a friend, of course. Always have. But lately, I’ve realized something else. I like you more than a friend. And I have to tell you because it’s been eating me up inside for a while. I want you to know the truth.”
Susan didn’t say anything for a long moment, but her face had gone from pink to a rather pale white, which made her freckles more pronounced. “Sam,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to come up with any answer right now.” Deflation coursed through him. “Maybe we could talk later today. Or tomorrow. Or whenever you want.”
She gave a slow nod, but didn’t respond.
Sam should go, he really should. He’d shocked her enough. He bent to pick up the book that had fallen and set it on the hammock. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed out of the yard. His house was only three down, and by the time he got home, his throat felt like a boulder was stuck in it.
He didn’t know if it being a Saturday was good or bad. He wouldn’t see her until Monday unless he went to church, and that would be really obvious. Surely she wouldn’t make him wait too long, right? Even if her answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear, it would at least put him out of his misery.
Because miserable was how he felt.
He headed into the house. His mom had left the windows open to let in the late winter air. He could hear a radio playing music from the kitchen and guessed she was in there getting an early start on dinner preparations. His father had taken on a second job and worked weekends, as well as his regular job during the week. It had been decided after a vigorous discussion between his parents of whether his mom should take in ironing to help their budget.
His father had finally declared that he didn’t want his wife to iron another man’s clothing. The statement was extreme, but it seemed the entire country was dealing with anxiety over finances, and his parents were no exception.
Sam would normally hang out in the kitchen and help his mom, but right now, he needed to get his head straightened out. And his heart. He took the stairs two at a time to his second-floor bedroom. A poster stared at him from the wall that said, “Join the Air Service. Learn-Earn.”
Sam aimed to join the Air Service. He flopped onto his bed and sprawled out, propping his hands behind his head, thinking about Susan. Doubts began to plague him, and he wondered if he should have told her that he liked her.
She was his best friend, and he didn’t want anything to change that. Why couldn’t he have been more patient? He’d let the boys talking about the Spring Fling push him into confessing too fast. He should have waited, because he liked Susan for life, and he didn’t really care about a school dance. Sure, it wouldn’t be any fun seeing her go out with Jerry, or whoever else, but the silence between them was much worse.
Sam moved off his bed and paced the small room between the twin beds and single dresser. He supposed he could go talk to one of the fellas, but they’d just tell him he was an idiot. And he already knew that.
With a sigh, he headed out of his room and down the stairs.
His mother sat at the kitchen table now, peeling a few potatoes.
“Want some help?” he asked.
She waved him off. “I’m almost finished. I thought you were going to see Susan?”
“I did see her.”
At the flat tone of his voice, she seemed to know things hadn’t gone well. She reached to turn off the radio. “What’s going on? Did you two get into a fight?”
It was kind of a humorous thing to ask since he and Susan hadn’t been in a squabble since they were maybe ten years old.
“I’m not sure what it was,” Sam said. “I asked her if she wanted to go to the Spring Fling with me.”
“Oh?” His mother’s forehead creased, and she set down the potato peeler. “That seems...unprecedented.”
Sam dropped his gaze and ran a fingernail along a groove in the table. “It is...but I wanted to ask her.”
His mother rested her hand on his arm. “What’s going on, son? Do you want to date Susan?”
He couldn’t deny it, could he, at least not to his mother. “Yes. I told her I liked her, and she...” He scrubbed a hand through his short hair. “She was very surprised.”
“Ah.” His mother folded her hands atop the table. “I thought this might happen.”
He lifted his gaze. “That Susan wouldn’t like me more than a friend?”
“No.” She seemed to be sorting through her words. “I’ve noticed how you’ve felt about her for some time now, and it was clear she didn’t catch on to that.”
Sam puffed out a breath. “Is that good or bad? I mean, if she can only see me as a fiend, then I’ll just have to live with that. But now I’ve made things really awkward between us.” He groaned.
His mother gave a soft chuckle.
“Is this entertaining?” he said, then immediately regretted it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”
His mother rose from her chair and cleared off the potato peelings. “She’ll come around, Sam, you’ll see.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” she said in a quiet voice, “you’re a great young man, and if she has any sense in her, she’ll go on that date with you. Now that you’ve told her you like her, she’ll start thinking in that direction. Who knows what she’ll come up with.”
“That’s just the thing,” Sam lamented. “Staying friends might be agony.”
His mother smiled again. “I think you’re sore right now, but tomorrow, or the next day, that will fade. Whatever happens will be the right thing. You can’t force love.”
Sam was sure his ears were bright red. They definitely felt hot. “Well, if you need me, or if Susan comes over, I’ll be in the backyard digging something.”
“Smart plan,” his mother said. “Work will sort out your thoughts. While you’re at it, can you edge around the fruit trees? Dad will be grateful.”
Sam headed into the backyard, wondering if any amount of digging could sort out his thoughts.