Chapter 17
17
S am was confused, honestly, about how she was supposed to interpret this latest vision. The playlist had been showing her how wonderful being with Damon was—and in some ways, Alt-Sam still seemed happy. But what about the car crash, her double vision and the C in a class she’d adored?
Her plan had been to listen to one song, but as the minutes passed by in the still quiet house, she realized that she could roll right into the next—no breaks, just Play. She wanted to make sure Sam’s eyesight improved, and there was only one way to find out.
“Let’s do this,” Sam said to herself as “Read My Mind” by The Killers came through with its subtle synth opener. Damon and Sam had analyzed this song endlessly. It was both sad and upbeat, about longing for connection but also the desire for change. They’d agreed—one of the rare songs where their opinions matched—that this was an emotional and beautifully written piece of music, ultimately tapping into how hard being vulnerable and opening up to another person can be.
Sam didn’t have a lot of time to rehash the lyrics, though, because when she landed, her eyes flew open at the intense bright light. She shielded her eyes with her hand as she realized that she was outside lying across two white plastic folding chairs.
Next to her was a guy with huge diamond earrings, a popped collar and bleached-blond hair tucked into a maroon cap with a tassel. His overly shiny aquamarine robe tipped her off to the fact that this was a high school graduation— her high school graduation. The ceremony hadn’t started yet, but looked like it was about to. The high school a cappella group sang a version of “Read My Mind” on the outdoor stage, which was already filled with teachers in formal wear, and a podium waited for someone to step up and take the mic.
She’d be that someone. She hadn’t loved high school but had used studying as a respite from the dark thoughts that threatened to consume her. And her valedictorian speech had been one she’d written as a kind of goodbye letter to Tybee. But she didn’t see Alt-Sam seated onstage the way she’d been back then. She scanned the crowd for herself and Damon.
Sam snaked her way down the row of chairs—past soul patches, shell necklaces, enormous cargo shorts and carpenter jeans—and into the aisle. The space was a sea of teal, but as she searched, she spied a wave of red hair in the small crowd of people who hadn’t taken a seat. Had she been the only redhead in high school? She couldn’t quite remember as she stumbled toward the flame like a jittery moth.
As Sam approached, she immediately recognized her high school’s college advisor, Mrs. Thrimble, deep in conversation with Alt-Sam. As valedictorian, Sam had been offered a full ride to several in-state schools. She could’ve accepted any of them. But the idea of pursuing a degree she had no interest in wasn’t as appealing as the adults around her kept making it sound. Especially when all Sam wanted was to attend flight school, the one option she’d actually been excited for.
“You’re one of the most curious and inquisitive students I’ve ever had the pleasure of helping,” Mrs Thrimble told Alt-Sam.
“Thanks.” Alt-Sam’s cheeks burned pink under the attention. She pushed a pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Glasses? Sam had always had perfect eyesight. But then, there had been the car accident, and the double vision. Oh, no.
“And you’re smart. You could’ve been valedictorian if you’d really focused.”
Could’ve been valedictorian?
Mrs. Thrimble continued, “While I understand that you don’t want to go the traditional route of applying to colleges, I do hope you’re taking my recommendation to look into some night classes at the community college?”
Just then, Damon’s unmistakable spiky black hair came into view as he reached for Alt-Sam’s hand and squeezed it. He gave her a warm smile, then acknowledged Mrs. Thrimble.
“Big day,” he simply said.
“Yes, for me, too. I’m so proud of you both.” She placed a hand on Alt-Sam’s shoulder and squeezed. “Damon, are you getting the summer off before nursing school?”
“I might volunteer in the rehab center with my dad. Some of the nurses who took care of me after the car accident offered to show me the ropes.”
He was becoming a nurse, like his dad? What about the brewery?
“That’s excellent news,” said Mrs. Thrimble. “I was just telling Sam she should get some classes in over the summer. See what interests her.”
“I want to be a pilot.” Alt-Sam tucked a thick chunk of hair behind her ear. “I just have to save up for this corrective surgery.”
“Hopefully soon,” Damon added, trying to sound encouraging.
“The woman who runs the flight school in Savannah told me that less than 5 percent of commercial pilots are female. So there’s a real need for Sam.” Mrs. Thrimble gave a small smile. “Hopefully, the surgery goes well.”
The percentage of female pilots had increased, but only to 10 percent, so that statistic hadn’t improved much over the last decade. The skies weren’t friendly to women, but Sam had made it work for her.
“I should get to the stage, and you should both take your seats.” Mrs. Thrimble glanced between them and then maneuvered away.
“Maybe Mrs. Thrimble is right. Night school could be rad.” Damon turned to Alt-Sam, and she sort of shrugged him off.
“I know what I want. I don’t need night school,” Alt-Sam finally said.
Sam’s fingers twitched. She guessed it was fine that Alt-Sam was taking a longer, more complicated route to becoming a pilot. But in this life, she wasn’t valedictorian, and she didn’t have an acceptance letter to flight school?
Damon wrapped an arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Brandon Flowers is a genius,” he said. “The way his lyrics so perfectly capture longing and love.”
Alt-Sam playfully rolled her eyes. “You know it’s about a breakup, right?”
“Sure, if you’re a pessimist you might think that,” Damon said. “But I happen to be an optimist. The relationship he’s singing about turns around. I mean, the way he asks the question at the very end tells us he wants to give it another chance.”
Alt-Sam shook her head. “He wants to be understood, but isn’t,” she insisted.
“Whatever you say.” Damon gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to check on my parents. Save me a seat?”
Alt-Sam offered a small smile as he walked off, but once he was out of sight, that faded. Her gaze landed on her hands, which shook.
What the fuck? Sam wasn’t sure why she was so mad, but this didn’t seem right. What had been one of the most encouraging and life-changing moments for her now seemed completely mucked up.
Sam took a step toward her younger self, hoping to still her shaking hand but, as she did, the image in front of her dissolved like sand. The whoosh she’d felt coming in returned as she blinked back to the room.
She yanked the headphones off. Something had been very wrong with what she’d seen. How long was it going to take Alt-Sam to reach her pilot goals? Was losing focus and not being valedictorian all worth getting to be in a relationship with Damon?
Her Lisa Frank notebook was on the desk. She walked over and opened to the page where she’d been keeping a running list of songs. She added the latest tracks to see if they made any sense of the puzzle.
SAM AND DAMON’S MAGICAL PLAYLIST
Track One: “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence. Otherworldly song about being understood by another human. Tybee High parking lot. Questionable amounts of eyeliner. Alt-Sam kisses Damon. Missing earring is found.
Track Two: “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” by The Darkness. A bop about being head over heels for someone. Alt-Sam and Damon are officially dating. Myles continues to disappoint. Marissa didn’t have an awkward phase in high school. JanSport backpacks are timeless.
Track Three: “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse. Inarguably the best song and movie scene pairing ever. Damon and Alt-Sam make out during Twilight and get kicked out. One too many hickies.
Track Four: “Want You Bad” by The Offspring. A banger about a bad boy wanting to corrupt a good girl. Myles gets owned by Alt-Sam. Damon skips detention. Alt-Sam skips her extracurricular. I miss Dunkaroos.
Track Five: “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy. A song about a guy meeting someone he likes at a school dance, and the angst of trying to desperately impress them. Damon tries to impress Alt-Sam and they get into A GODDAMN CAR CRASH. Soffe shorts. Condoms from Pearl. Looks like I never get to go to prom.
Track Six: “Fell In Love With a Girl” by The White Stripes. Can I ever hear this song again and not think about Alt-Sam and Damon sneaking around (??) and probably having sex (??). Alt-Sam’s vision problems continue AND she’s getting a C on an essay?
Track Seven: “Read My Mind” by The Killers, which is all about uncertainty. Makes sense, since in Alt-Sam’s high school graduation, I’m not valedictorian and waiting on a surgery to get into flight school.
Sam tapped her gel pen against the paper. What did any of this mean? As she reread her notes, a little stone formed in her gut that refused to budge. She was having a hard time understanding how Alt-Sam could be so different from whom she’d been.
Or maybe her perfectionist self was being judgmental of Alt-Sam. After all, Alt-Sam was going to go to flight school, but by a different route. So what, she wasn’t valedictorian? She was having reckless fun, which was something Sam had never done in high school.
Sam placed her head in her hands and closed her eyes. She was tired of overthinking everything. Maybe she just really needed to stop doing this—she should be asleep instead of trying to make sense of something that was impossible to understand. She tucked the CD player into a shelf of her desk, along with the notebook, and tried to let her mind go blank.