Sam

The more she drew him, the more details she would notice. She knew every angle of his profile, every blemish on his skin. That one was easy, however, because he had no blemishes.

                As she stepped out of the diner she turned, looking up at Sam. The pink and blue neon cheeseburger reflected in his eyes, the light of dusk making them shine brighter. He smiled, teeth and all.

               “You sure are a cheap date,” she said with a chuckle. He chuckled too and for the first time that night Lucy felt the autumn air sting her cheeks as she stepped onto the curb. Instinctively she moved closer to Sam, who draped his arm around her shoulder. She felt no warmer than she had before. He raised his free arm at an approaching yellow car.

               “Taxi!” He yelled, a puff of white leaving his mouth and disappearing just as quickly as it had formed. “Taxi!” he yelled, louder this time, waving his arm. The cab sped by without pausing. Lucy smiled to herself at Sam’s peeved expression.

               “Those b******s” he cursed, stuffing his hand into his coat pocket. Lucy moved away from him, a smirk pinned on her face, her hair whipping around itself as the light breeze picked up.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” she joked, pulling her jacket around herself tighter. She shuffled her way to the corner of the street, careful not to scuff her four inch Louboutins. Flipping her chestnut hair to the side she raised an arm and yelled “Taxi!” in a singsong voice. Almost before she could put her hand down a cab pulled to the curb, screeching to a halt. Sam rolled his eyes.

“It’s because you’re a girl.” He said.

               “Oh yea right, that’s why.” She laughed to herself, sarcastically. She shuffled toward the yellow vehicle. Sam reached to open the door for her, but she beat him to it and slid into the brown leather back seat. Sam slid in right behind her.
            “This cab smells like sweat and Bosnia,” said Sam, loudly. Lucy whacked at his stomach and he laughed. “What?” He asked, innocently between chuckles.

               To Sam, everything smelled like Bosnia. Probably because it was the only place he had ever been besides Seattle and Paducah, Kentucky, his hometown. He went to Bosnia the day Laura had gotten out of the hospital. She didn’t see him for a year. She hated Bosnia and was glad she didn’t know what it smelled like.

               The cab driver looked at her through the rear view mirror, gazing nonchalantly.

“Where to?” He asked.

               “Forty-four, West Seven Hundredth Street. It’s the second complex.”

               The cab glided forward and Laura began digging in her purse for change to pay the fare. While she was occupying herself with counting quarters, Sam was staring at her.

               “You looked really beautiful tonight, pumpkin.” He said, leaning forward, a lock of curly brown hair covering one of his eyes. Lucy smiled, not looking away from her purse. “I mean it.”

               When the cab pulled up at her apartment building she mentally cursed the driver for getting her there so quick. She didn’t want this night to end. Sam placed a hand behind her head and pulled it toward his. He pressed his lips to her forehead and she felt them curve into a smile. She paid for her fare and stepped out onto the street. As she walked across into and stepped onto the sidewalk she looked back at the slowly departing cab. Sam blew her a kiss and winked before turning back around.

 

            As she was about to climb into bed her Blackberry buzzed. For a split second she thought it might be Sam, but she knew better. She glanced at the bright screen through squinted eyes.

 

1:16 am
Anna

Hey girl, I’m coming over tomorrow. I have the best news ever, c u then!

 

            Lucy set her phone back on her nightstand. Next to it was a sketch, one she drew last week of Sam. It wasn’t quite finished so she grabbed her pencil and propped the sketch pad up on her knees. She loved drawing Sam. She had too many drawings and paintings of him to count. It was like the more she drew him, the more details she would notice. She knew every curve of his jaw, every angle of his profile, and every blemish on his skin. That one was easy, however, because he had no blemishes. He never had a single freckle, zit, or scar on his face for as long as she knew him, which she often found odd but chalked it up to just another one of his perfect qualities. She fell asleep gazing at pencil strokes that embodied those beautiful grey eyes she was so familiar with, and dreamed of them that night. Something she was also quite used to.

            She woke up to Anna jumping on her.

            “Lucy, wake up! Lucy! I have something to tell you! Wake up!”

            “How did you get in here?” Asked Lucy, sleepily, trying to roll the covers over her head. Anna pulled them back down.

            “I used your spare key. Didn’t you get my text last night?”

            “Yea, An. I was kind of almost sleeping though, so…”

            “Mathew asked me out on a date!”

            Lucy’s eyes widened, and she all of a sudden felt a lot less groggy.

            “’Abs Mathew?’ ‘ ‘Your-children-would-look-absolutely-gorgeous, Mathew’?” she asked in excitement.

            “Yes! In the elevator at work yesterday! He asked me to go to this adorable little Italian place tonight. Oh my god, our children are going to look absolutely gorgeous!”
            Lucy squealed along with her best friend. Anna had been obsessing over this guy since she started her new job and would not stop talking about him. Lucy knew this would happen eventually, because her best friend was devastatingly beautiful and caught the attention of every male who ever had the privilege of knowing her. All except for Sam, who had seen her but had never really met her, and had described her as, “the silly blonde friend whose b***s looked fake.”

            “The only thing is…” Anna paused and Lucy could feel it coming. “You have to go with.”

            Lucy groaned. Anna pulled this on practically all her first dates, because, in her words, “no matter how hot a guy is, there is always the chance he could be a creepster, and I would rather have a slightly more awkward night than be date-raped,” which, loosely translated, meant Lucy always had to double-date with her.

            “I called in a favor and got Charlie, the design editor, to come with. He’s completely gorgeous but I think he might be gay.”

            Lucy seriously doubted it. Anna thought every guy who ever wore argyle was gay.  She laughed a little to herself and wound her arm around her best friend’s neck, hugging her.

            “I'm so excited for you.”

            “Me too!”

            At that moment, Anna looked past Lucy and onto her night stand, directly at the drawing of Sam.

            “Ooohh,” she exclaimed, breaking the hug and grabbing the sketchpad. “Who is this?”

            “No one!”  Lucy squeaked as she snatched the pad from Anna’s hands. “Just an old friend.” She clutched the pad close to her and looked away.

            “A hot old friend you’ve been hiding from me! That isn’t fair!” protested Anna as she reached for the pad again. Lucy pulled it out of her reach, then placed it behind her back.

            “It’s no one, I swear.”

            Anna sighed. “If you say so, selfish. Now let’s go raid your closet. I need something to wear for tonight.”

 

            Lucy decided that she liked Charlie. He wasn’t nearly as self-centered as Mathew seemed to be. He never once talked about his workout routine, his hair product, or his ski trip to Colorado, all the things that seemed to fascinate Anna. Lucy laughed to herself. And Anna thought Charlie was gay. One tiny detail that did bother her, however, was one simple physical trait. Something most people might look over easily, but was noticed by Lucy the second she laid eyes on him. A birth mark, right below his mouth on the right side of his face. It wasn’t overly large or misshapen, in fact it was almost heart-shaped in a warped sort of way. It wasn’t like her to fixate over such small imperfections, but for some reason she could not stop staring at it. She took a bite of her salad.

            “Ever been to Bosnia?” she asked Charlie, who was taking a slow bite of his ravioli. He looked unsure of what to say. After chewing thoroughly he swallowed, then said, “No. Is it nice?”

            “Oh my god, Lucy, if I have to hear you talk about Bosnia one more time, I’m going to smack you.” Anna glared at her friend. Lucy tightened her mouth and looked at the floor apologetically. She set her fork down, letting it clink against the plate, the sound lost by the murmur of the restaurant crowd. She had lost her appetite.

            “So, what do you do?” asked Charlie, catching Lucy off her guard. She quickly looked up at him, which gave her a bit of a head rush. He looked at her, expectantly, with large brown eyes, not unlike her own. Looking past his head out of the corner of her eye she spotted Sam. He was three tables down, staring at her from behind a menu. When he realized that she spotted him, his eyes widened as he quickly ducked back down behind it. She turned back to Charlie, staring at him for a moment before regaining her composure.

            “I, uhm, I’m an artist. But I’m also a part-time dental assistant for right now.” She nodded, assuring herself that she didn’t sound boring.

            “An artist? Really? What type? Do you paint, sculpt…”

            Lucy looked at him, half shocked, half engaged. He had been asking questions all night, and no guy had ever seemed that interested in what she had to say. It seemed like Sam already knew all those things about her, so he never had to ask and she never had to tell him. She smiled before answering.

            “I usually…” she began, before the room seemed to start moving in waves. “I… I usual.. ly…” It felt like her tongue was numb, and her head was filled with helium. Not again, she said, desperately to herself. She looked at Charlie, who blurred in and out of focus. His birthmark looked like a pulsing heart. The last thing she heard was her name being called, by whom, she didn’t know, though it sounded like Sam, before everything went dark. 

 

            The doctors said that after they remove the tumor, she won’t see Sam anymore. But they said that the first time, when she was fourteen, and he came back to her a year later. She was, however, still terrified. She sat up in her hospital bed and leaned to the left, trying to read the nurse’s charts.

            “How long until the surgery can be scheduled?”

            “Only about three days,” said the chubby, red-nosed nurse in a kind, faux-sympathetic tone that all nurses seemed to have. “You’re a high priority case, my dear. Now I contacted your father but I’m afraid I wasn’t able to get a hold of your mother.” She looked at her chart, flipping through the pages. “It says here she lives in Bosnia?”

            “Yeah, it’s okay” Lucy said, picking at the tape that held the IV against her forearm. “You won’t be able to get a hold of her. I haven’t been able to since she moved there.”

            “And how long ago was that?” the nurse asked. Lucy paused.

            “I was five.”

            After the nurse left she turned to Sam, who was sitting on the end of her bed. He gazed at her with understanding, grey eyes. He knew what she was thinking.

            “It might be for good this time.” He said, placing his hand over hers. “We need to prepare ourselves.”
            “Don’t say that. Stop talking to me like a shrink. We’ve been through this before. You can go back to Bosnia for a little while and visit your family. You liked it there.”

“Loved it, remember? The only reason I came back was for you.” He said, never looking away from her. Her eyes began to well with tears, but she didn’t blink them away. She was afraid to close her eyes, because she didn’t know if he would still be there when she opened them. “You can get me souvenirs. You can take pictures this time, too. You can tell my mom how much I miss her. You can- you can…” Lucy let her emotions take over, tears covering her cheeks. She closed her eyes. Sam reached out and held her to him. He let her rest her head on his shoulder as she cried.

            “Shh, it’s okay.” He stroked her hair. “You will be okay. See, pumpkin, you don’t realize it, but it’s better for you that I leave. It’ll be better. I promise.” His voice held so much sincerity that Lucy almost believed him.

            “You have to believe me, pumpkin. You have to.” She said nothing and continued to sob into his shoulder. She knew what was coming was inevitable.

            Lucy heard the door open, along with three soft knocks. She assumed it was Anna, who had been there earlier that day and had forgotten something. She kept her knees up with her head down, buried in her arms.

            “No, they haven’t shaved my head yet, Anna.”

            “Um..” Lucy looked up. That was definitely not a female voice, let alone Anna’s. A head was poked halfway in the door. Her vision still blurred by tears, she couldn’t make out who it was until she focused on his mouth.

            “Charlie?” She asked, surprised.

            “Is this a bad time?” The door opened wider. He was carrying a small bouquet of flowers and a styrofoam box.

            “No, not at all!” She quickly sat back up, wiping the tears from her face. She could tell she looked like hell, and became very self conscious all of a sudden. She smoothed out her hospital gown and put on her best, “I’m sorry I have a brain tumor but please don’t let that stop you from talking to me” face.

            “Are those for me?” She asked. He nodded, eagerly and handed them to her. She smelled them and smiled before placing them on the stand next to her bed. “What’s in the box?”

            He looked as though he had forgotten about it.

            “Oh, um, here. It’s from the Italian place last night. I picked you up some ravioli. I was going to get you a salad but I wasn’t sure what was going on with your situation and at first I thought the salad was bad or something, and I remember you trying my ravioli so I just figured-“

            “Charlie.” She said, trying to end his nervous rant. “Thank you.” She smiled at him.

            “Well, uh, should I go, or…”
            Lucy looked from the flowers, to the Styrofoam box, to the empty place on the end of her bed. She turned around to her bedside table and glanced at her sketchpad, which was open to a vivid drawing of Sam. She picked it up and closed it, placing it back on her nightstand.

            “I would love it if you stayed.” She said to Charlie. He smiled and letting out a relieved sigh, sat at the edge of her bed.

            “So, what were you saying about Bosnia?”

 

Author's Note

This is just a very short story I wrote in my spare time that I hope others would find fun to read. It's not my favorite piece but I like the concept and think it might have potential to be expanded upon. I'm not sure yet where else I can take it, though. It hasn't been edited a whole lot so feel free to rip it apart if you want. I won't mind! ;)