You've Reached Sam (You've Reached Sam, #1)

by Dustin Thao

“This isn’t fair, Sam—” I start, but my throat catches, as I feel tears forming behind my eyes. Sam kisses me one last time. “I know this wasn’t part of our plan, Julie. But at least we had this time together, right? I want you to know … if I could do it all over again, I would. Every second of it.”

Before he’s completely gone, I reach out to grab a single petal and hold it tight against my chest. But somehow it slips through my fingers and vanishes into the sky. Just like the rest of him.

I’ll be honest. I used to be scared of leaving home. Now I can’t wait to move on and make new memories with you. Just don’t forget the ones we made here. Especially when you make it big. And whatever happens, promise you won’t forget me, okay? Anyway, I love you, Julie, and always will. Yours forever, Sam

“I’m sorry. I really thought that if I picked up, everything would be better. This is all my fault. I wish I could fix this.” I take in a deep breath and say, “Please tell me what’s going on, Sam. Tell me why you picked up.” There’s a long silence before he finally answers this. He says, “I wanted to give us a chance to say good-bye.”

“Mom says to tell her if Julie ever stays past midnight.” “You would do that to me?” Sam asks, looking hurt. “My own brother?” “She said she’d give me ten dollars.” “So you’re taking bribes now, eh,” Sam says. “What if I gave you fifteen?” “Mom said you’d make an offer. She says she’s willing to match anything, plus tickets to the Rockets game.”

Mr. Lee said he “brought in good luck.” “What did I bring in?” I once asked him. “You brought in Sam.”

“The books missed you,”

He opens the bookcase door and gestures toward the store. “The books welcome you back.”

“Your shirt,” he whispers near my ear. “It still smells like him.” “It does.”

As I listen to the song alone in my room, I suddenly realize I will never hear Sam sing it for me, and that “Someday” never came.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all this right now,” he says. “And I’m sorry you died.”

Or that time we decided to grab blankets and bring them to the backyard to watch the sunrise together, for no reason. We stayed up all night, talking about what we wanted to do ten years from now, waiting to see that burning red glow curve along a dark sky, oblivious to the significance of seeing another day. And oblivious to a future when one of us would be gone.

“Suddenly Seymour, is standing beside you…”

“Why didn’t you bring me here sooner?” “I was waiting for the right moment to show it to you. I had it all planned out. It was supposed to be special. I didn’t know I would run out of time.”

For a long moment, I can feel him lying there besides me. If I turn my head to look, I’d see him with his arms tucked behind his head, wearing his plaid shirt, his eyes opened wide at the sky, his beautiful dark hair, that handsome smile on his face. But I don’t dare to look, because I’m scared no one will be there. So I just stare straight up at the stars, and allow myself to keep pretending.

“So you’re writing again?” “I’m starting to. Today, at least.” That was why he brought me to the fields. To inspire me again.

The lantern is gone. I lost it. I can’t lose you, too. Not again.

“There’s some brie in the fridge. Go easy on it.” I finished the brie a few hours ago.

“Really. And will there be food?” “I think so.” Mr. Lee sniffs the air. “Seared duck…” he says to himself. “I think I shall go to this … after party.” “Oh—I think you need a ticket.” Mr. Lee gives me a mischievous look. I smile and whisper, “I’ll see you there.”

His excitement is contagious.

All the time in the world … the words echo through me as a breeze comes in through the window, rolling across my skin. I glance at the clock above the doorway. I didn’t notice it there before. The hands are missing. Outside, there’s still nothing but shimmering clouds. Now that I think about it, how long has the sun been setting out there?

“I know I have to say good-bye soon,” I say. “But I don’t think I can let him go.” My mother nods silently. Before we leave the car, she wipes a tear from my eye, and whispers, “Then you shouldn’t. You should keep him with you. Help him live on somehow.”

“You’re wrong about something. You did leave your mark on the world, Sam. You left a mark on me. You changed my life. And I’ll never forget you, okay? We’re a part of each other. Do you hear me? Sam—”

“Good-bye, Sam.” “Good-bye, Julie.”

“I need you to do one last thing for me, okay?” “What is it?” I ask. “After we hang up … I’m going to call you again. And I need you to not pick up this time. Can you promise me that?”

You are my entire world, Julie. And one day, maybe I’ll only be a small piece of yours. I hope you keep that piece.”

“This is for you.” “You don’t have to bring anything,” she says every time.

May our love last a lifetime

I hope he can rest peacefully, knowing our love is eternal now.

Thank you for giving me your last Valentine’s Day, Sam. I’ll think about you for all of mine.