CHAPTER 19
I was going to call it off.
I was.
But one dance led to another, and soon, I was on my way home without having said a word to Sam about breaking up. Oh, and I took the jersey. Sam called my name as I was about to get into my car and tossed it to me, saying, ”Here, Kent.”
”What”s this for?” I”d asked.
”Something to remember me.” He shrugged. ”So you don”t forget after Scam is over.”
”As if I could,” I murmured.
He”d given me the perfect opening. I should”ve mentioned ending things then.
But I didn”t.
”Thanks for the dance, Bishop.”
”Any time, Kent.”
All the way home I kept touching the material, reassuring myself that tomorrow. I”d do it tomorrow.
But Sunday, I was simply too busy, practicing violin, replying to emails with questions about the festival, finishing a paper for lit. Then Monday rolled around, and I couldn”t do it then either.In fact, I couldn”t do much of anything.
Because I was sick.
Did I think this was punishment for me not breaking up with Sam when I promised myself I would?
Perhaps.
But in all honesty, I couldn”t beat myself up too much, not when I was struggling to breathe and blowing my nose every two seconds. I knew I”d have a ton of homework, so I went ahead and emailed my teachers. Hopefully, they”d send my assignments. Then I shot an email to the members of student council, cc”ing Principal Rochelle. I included any and all updates regarding the upcoming festival. Everything was running smoothly so far—but that could change. Dad was shocked when I decided to stay home Honestly? So was I. However, I couldn”t bring myself to go to school, not when I felt this way and definitely not when there was a chance I could spread my germs to someone else.
My only regret was that I wouldn”t get to see Sam.
I”d grown accustomed to seeing his face every day.
Just the thought of him made me smile.
Which was a definite sign that it was past time to break up.
As I sat there in my room, tissue in one hand, phone in the other, I debated.
Should I text him?
Or maybe call?
It was definitely the cowardly way out, but maybe the trick was to rip the band-aid off. I was staring at my phone so hard that I jumped when a text came through.
Hey, Kent. Can you let me in?
I stared at the words.
Was I seeing things?
I kept popping fevers left and right, so it was very possible.
Then I heard a light tapping sound at my window.
”What the…?”
My phone buzzed again, and I looked down.
Sam:It”s me.
Sam:Will you come to the window?
Sam: I brought you something. (Yes, that was a bribe and a tease to get you over here)
Shaking my head, I stood, crossed my bedroom to the window, lifted the latch and pushed up the glass. Sam was standing there, smiling at me.
”Hey,” he said. ”Long time no see.”
”Bishop?” I sniffled. ”What are you doing here?”
”When you weren”t at school, I got worried. Scarlett Kent never skips. So, I knew you had to be dying.”
He was right.
Not about the dying part.
But I”d never skipped class. There was so much to learn, and we covered a lot in a day.
”So, you came to give your final regards,” I said. ”That was kind.”
”I was worried about you,” he repeated.
Even in my sorry state, those words lifted my spirits.
”Well, here I am,” I said.
”Here you are.”
I tilted my head, silly, fever-induced thoughts running rampant through my mind.
Why was Sam Bishop so lovely?
Did he know that his smile was like medicine to my soul?
Would he run away if I said that to him?
Probably.
”Don”t you want to know what I brought you?” he said.
”You mean besides your stunning self,” I replied.
Sam rolled his eyes. ”Now, I know you”re sick.”
”That is demonstrably provable by the tissues surrounding my bed.”
”At least nothing”s wrong with your nerdy brain.”
”Hey, I like nerds.”
”I do too,” he said, throwing me a wink, and then he handed me a bag.
”What”s in here?” I asked.
”Open it and see.”
Glancing inside, I blinked. ”Grilled cheese and ginger ale?” I said.
”And Chinese and ice cream,” he finished.
As I looked up, my eyes were watery, but if pressed, I”d blame it on the sickness.
”All your favorites.” Sam began to look uncomfortable as I swallowed. ”I figured you could use a pick-me-up.”
You are the pick-me-up, I thought.
”What?” Sam said with a laugh.
Shoot, I guess I said that out loud.
”Yes, and you”re still talking. Want me to come in and sit with you for a while?”
I opened my mouth to reply.
Yes, please stay.
No, I don”t want to get you sick too.
”You can do what you want,” I said finally.
Sam threw his legs over the windowsill and into my room. ”Then I”ll stay,” he said, standing to his full height. For whatever reason, seeing him in my space, being in such close proximity to him, made my pulse speed up.
”I like your room, Kent.”
”I like you in it,” I mumbled and didn”t realize I”d spoken the words until he chuckled.
”You really have to work on that,” he said.
”I—”
But before I could finish that sentence, there was a knock at my bedroom door. My dad”s voice filtered in a second later.
”Hey, Scarlett,” he said. ”I just wanted to check on you and see how you”re feeling.”
”Thanks, Dad. I”m good,” I said back.
”Do you want me to pick up anything for you at the store?”
”No, like I said, I”m fine.”
”Your voice sounds off.”
Eyes wide, I shook my head as Sam cocked a brow. ”That”s probably because I”m sick.”
There was a moment of pause.
Then, Dad said, ”Okay, if you”re sure.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
”Oh, and can you tell Sam to use the front door next time?”
Sam nearly chuckled, but I covered his mouth with my palm.
”He”s more than welcome to stay, but I”d prefer it if you guys hang out in the living room. That good with you, Sam?”
Lowering my hand, he said, ”Sure, Mr. Kent.”
”We”ll be out in a few minutes,” I said meekly. ”Thanks, Dad.”
”No problem, kid.”
After he was gone, I let out another sigh then lifted my head to meet Sam”s amused gaze.
”Still want to stay?” I asked.
”Yeah,” he said as if any other answer wasn”t even a consideration.
#
”Moira is the best thing about this show.”
I slanted Sam a look. ”Five seconds ago, you said it was David.”
”I changed my mind,” he said.”It”s definitely Moira Rose.”
”Was there ever any doubt?” I asked.
We were seated in my living room, watching re-runs of Schitt”s Creek and eating the food Sam brought for me. I”d taken the grilled cheese; Sam inhaled the Chinese broccoli and beef with lo mein; and we each had a ginger ale to chase it all down. By unanimous decision, we”d started with season 4—the best in my opinion—and were currently five episodes in.
”You know what, no,” he said. ”The writing. That”s the best thing.”
”Agreed,” I said. ”Actors wouldn”t have much to say without the writers.”
”Yeah…but Moira and David. They”re amazing.”
”Why don”t you just say all the characters?” I asked.
”Because it”s not all of them.”
”What about Patrick?”
Sam scoffed. ”What about him? He”s not funny.”
I sat up straighter and faced him on the couch. ”No, but he can sing.”
”So?”
”So,” I repeated, ”Patrick”s the romantic, the kind-hearted soul, the one who finally broke through David”s walls and worked tirelessly to help make the person he loves dreams come true. How can you not love him?”
He shot me a grin. ”Sounds like you”re the romantic, Kent.”
I huffed, digging my spoon into the ice cream. There were two kinds, a pint of butter pecan and another of plain chocolate. So far, I”d stuck to the chocolate, and Sam took the butter pecan without saying a word. As the coldness melted in my mouth, I closed my eyes and sighed.
”That good?” Sam asked.
”Yes,” I murmured, ”the cold feels wonderful on my throat.”
”Nice.” His voice sounded strained, and I re-opened my eyes. ”Speaking of dreams, how”s your list coming? You”re nearly done, right?”
I reached back into my pocket, unfolded my list, and nodded.
”I”ve got a few more items to go.”
”Mind if I take a look?”
Shrugging, I handed him my list. His eyes moved over the page, and I”d stared at it enough times that I could clearly picture what he saw.
”We could do at least one of these now,” he said and raised his arm.
”I assume you mean #4.”
”You assume correctly.”
”Are you sure you won”t get sick?” I asked.
Sam gave me a grin. ”Look at me, Kent. I”m the picture of health.”
Shaking my head, I scooted closer while muttering, ”Okay, but if cuddling with me makes you sick, I claim zero responsibility.”
”Got it.”
I leaned carefully against his chest. ”This okay? Is my head too heavy? If I smell, just push me away, because even though I showered this morning, I have no sense of smell right now.”
Sam sighed in response, pulling me closer, and draped a blanket over both of us.
”You”re fine,” he said, wrapping his arm around one of my shoulders and placing my arm over his chest. ”Let”s just relax and watch Schitt”s Creek.”
”Okay,” I breathed.
Cuddling, I decided, was my new favorite thing.
It was like an endless hug, and to quote David, I was obsessed. Sam”s arms remained wrapped around me. I felt each of his breaths going in and out ofhis chest. We didn”t say very much, but it was comfortable. Cozy. I”d never realized how good it could feel to just be with someone. As Sam and I watched my favorite episode of my favorite show, I couldn”t help but be grateful for this moment.
Even if it couldn”t last.
”Hey,” Sam said, ”are you okay?”
”Yep,” I said.
”What…Kent, are you crying?”
”How did you know?”
”I felt your tears hitting my chest.”
I sat up and so did he.
”What”s wrong?” he asked.
”Nothing,” I said, wiping the moisture from my cheeks. ”I”m good.”
”You don”t look good.”
”I always cry during the open mic scene.”
Sam”s brows pinched like he didn”t quite believe me.
”Seriously,” I said with a smile. ”I feel like the day I don”t cry it means I”ve lost some of my heart. You know?”
”Not really,” Sam said.
My dad walked into the living room, looked at the TV then back at me, and raised his brows.
”Crying over the open mic scene again?” he asked.
”Yeah,” I said.
”I”ll never understand why you love it so much if it makes you cry.”
”They”re happy-sad tears.”
Dad shot me a smile. ”Well, in that case…”
His eyes moved to Sam”s concerned-looking face, and my father shook his head.
”Don”t worry,” he said. ”I used to come in and find Scarlett and her sister bawling their eyes out every time. Then they”d listen to Simply the Best on repeat. Remember, Scarlett?”
I nodded, glad that he”d backed up my story.
”I”m going to bed, but you two feel free to stay up.”
Dad”s eyes narrowed, and his tone turned serious.
”No going in Scarlett”s room unless the door remains open. No drinking anything out of the fridge except water, juice, milk, or soda.”
”Good variety,” Sam said, but my father didn”t laugh.
”No funny business of any kind. Understand?”
We both nodded.
”Okay. Goodnight, Scarlett, I hope you feel better.”
”Love you, Dad,” I said.
”I love you too,” he said then pointed at Sam. ”You, remember the talk.”
”I will,” Sam said.
After my dad had gone and I was alone with Sam once more, he turned to face me and lifted a brow.
”Was it really just the show?” he asked.
Not this time, I thought.
But something stopped me from telling him the full truth.
”It may have also been the medicine,” I said lightly. ”It makes me emotional. Oh yeah, and it also eliminates my filter, a fact you saw first-hand earlier.”
Sam tilted his head. ”You still owe me two truths, Kent.”
”Not this again.”
”Why not?”
Because I have no idea what you”ll ask.
”I think this is the perfect time for us to talk.”
”When I”m ill and doped up on drugs?”
”When you”re unfiltered and too sick to evade my questions,” he replied.
Hmph.
”But if you”re too scared, I get it.”
”I”m not scared of anything,” I retorted.
Sam”s eyebrow arched calling me on the lie, but I didn”t care. Everyone was afraid of something. But being rejected by Sam, who”d been one of my best friends once upon a time? Who was now my perfect fake boyfriend and close companion who I didn”t want to lose? Yeah, that would make anyone nervous.
”Ask whatever you want,” I said. ”But remember, I get to ask you a question too.”
Sam sat forward. ”No lies.”
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my chin and met his gaze. ”Okay.”
”What happened to us?” he said. ”Whydid you stop talking to me all those years ago?”
”I can”t believe you”re asking me that.”
”Well, I am.”
”Be honest with yourself, Bishop,” I said. ”You already know the answer.”
”Was it because I didn”t meet all the requirements on your list? To be your friend?”
I scoffed at that. ”Please, you exceeded every one of them.”
”Then what made you decide I wasn”t good enough?”
”You were more than enough,” I said.
”This is what I don”t get, Kent.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. ”You say stuff like that. It was good between us. We were friends one day and then nothing.”
”That”s not what happened.”
Sam waited for me to continue, and I was just irritated enough to keep going.
Why couldn”t he just let this go?
Why did he keep pretending not to get it?
”You turned into the Sam Bishop overnight. Mr. Popular. King of the jocks.”
”Not sure I like how that sounds,” he said, ”but go on.”
”I was just me,” I said. ”If we had kept hanging out, you know what everyone would”ve said.”
”Enlighten me, Kent.”
”People would”ve thought that I…”
”That you what?” he prompted.
I met his gaze head on. ”They would”ve said I was in love with you. And the sad part is? They would”ve been right.”
Sam froze.
He didn”t move a muscle.
In fact, it looked like he”d stopped breathing.
It took him a full 15 seconds to respond. I counted every one of them with bated breath.
”You were in love with me?” he repeated.
Trying to make light of it, I rolled my eyes. ”Yeah, like you didn”t know.”
”I didn”t.”
Sam caught my gaze and wouldn”t let go.
”I didn”t know, Kent.”
”Okay, well. Now, you do.”
His brow furrowed.
”But don”t worry,” I added. ”I got over it.”
Almost.
”Of course.”
”Of course,” Sam mumbled.
”What you said to Brisa really helped with that.”
”Brisa?”
”Yeah,” I said then tilted my head. ”Here”s my question, Bishop. Why didn”t you just tell me that you didn”t want to be friends anymore? Why did you go to her instead?”
Sam frowned. ”I have no idea what you”re talking about.”
”I thought we were telling the truth.”
”I am.”
Shaking my head, I recited his words from years ago. ”Being around Scarlett, it hurts. It”s physically painful. I don”t think I can keep being friends with her.” Sam”s eyes widened in recognition, and I gave him a nod. ”Beginning of freshman year. You and Brisa were talking in the hall, and I overheard you.”
”Kent, I—”
”You”d been avoiding me for three days, so I wanted to know what was wrong.” I shrugged. ”Guess I got my answer.”
Sam”s eyes were piercing. ”That wasn”t what it sounded like.”
”Then what was it?”
When he didn”t respond, I felt my shoulders drop.
”I just ended things before you could,” I said. ”You can only carry around the torch of unrequited love for so long, you know?”
”Sometimes it”s hard to let go,” he muttered.
”Definitely wasn”t easy.”
”I wish you would”ve told me.”
”I thought you knew,” I said again.
”But Kent, I didn”t want anything to end.” His voice and eyes were heartbreakingly earnest when he said, ”I always wanted you.”
”Okay.” I sent him a smile.”Can we watch more Schitt”s Creek now? I”m feeling a little tired from all this honesty.”
”Sure.”
Sam was obviously still deep in his thoughts, but I felt better, knowing we”d gotten everything cleared up. I didn”t know why. But the conversation freed me in a way that I hadn”t known I needed. I told the truth—for the most part. Sam now knew that I”d been in love with him.
He just didn”t know I still was.
When I looked over about 30 minutes later, his eyes were closed. I tried not to find everything about him as attractive as I had what seemed like so long ago. I told myself he wasn”t the best thing I”d ever seen. But it was a lie. Sam was fast asleep, and I didn”t have the heart to wake him. The blanket had fallen to his waist at some point. I reached down, pulled the soft material back up, and covered him. Leaning my head against the couch, taking one last look at him before I closed my eyes, I reminded myself this was for my list.#11. First night spent together.
But it was more about the boy beside me.
His words replayed in my head even as I drifted off to sleep.
I always wanted you.
Oh, Sam.
I always wanted you too.