If I drove straight through, I could be at Sam’s house by midnight. That would leave me the next day to drive back to North Carolina, and then turn around and have my defense the morning after I got back. The first thing I did once I’d gotten on the highway was call Conner, and ask him if he’d want to come.
“Dude,” he said. “Of course. I have sixteen hours of PTO saved up at this point, and Shani’s next shift isn’t until Saturday.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I mean, I know it’s late notice—”
“Iwantto,” Conner said. “I would’ve asked to before, except you said it wasn’t the kind of thing where people came to it. So I thought it would be like asking to sit in on a literature class or something.”
“I can’t promise you that it won’t be boring,” I said. “But it would mean a lot to me if you were there. I’ll pay for your flights or hotel or gas, whatever you need.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said.
“How about at Waffle House, tomorrow morning?”
Conner laughed. “What do you think, we’re going to leavenow? We could maybe get there in time for a late dinner tomorrow night.”
“No,” I said. “I meant the one by the house. In Florida. Oh, and I may need somewhere to stay tonight. Although I hope I won’t.”
“What are you—” And then it seemed to dawn on him. “Oh. Shit, Pheebs, are you driving down to talk toSam?”
“Yes, and don’t try to talk me out of it. I don’t care if he hates me or if he’s dating someone new or if I’m about to make the biggest ass out of myself. I need to tell him how I feel, and—”
I suddenly couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched squeal, and I winced. Shani must’ve grabbed the phone.
“Oh my god,yes,” she was saying, “I was hoping something like this would happen. You two areperfectfor each other, and he hasn’t been the same since you left. I don’t care if that girl was over at his house, which I still don’t think Conner should’ve told you.”
I could hear Conner protesting in the background, and could picture Shani swatting him, telling him to shut up. “What do you mean, hasn’t been the same?”
It was dangerous, the lift in my heart at the idea that maybe Sam had been feeling as wrecked and lonely as I had, that maybe he would welcome me back into his life.
“Just quiet,” Shani said. “We’ve been over there quite a bit, starting to move some stuff into the house. If we see him he always says hello, but it’s very... polite.”
That sounded like Sam, at least the shy version I’d met at first, and then the reserved version I’d gotten at the end. It had been nothing like the real Sam I’d known in between, who was thoughtful and funny and open and kind.
“Has he—” I started to ask, but then Conner came back on the line.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said. “You’re doing the right thing. Call if you need anything else, but otherwise, we’ll see you tomorrow at the Waffle House, maybe around eight?”
“Sounds good.”
“Bring Sam!” Shani shouted in the background, and I smiled, although my stomach was a twist of knots.
“I’ll try.”
TWENTY-SIX
IT WAS PASTmidnight by the time I pulled up in front of Sam’s house, the neighborhood dark with its lack of streetlights. The windows in his house were dark, too. I had no idea what time he went to bed on a weeknight, but he’d once told me the time his school started, some god-awful hour meant for unconsciousness. It made sense that he’d be asleep already.
I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering if I should just head next door, put off any confrontation until tomorrow. But I didn’t have much time, if I wanted to get back for my defense, and I’d come all this way. I had to see him.
My first knock on his door was as quiet as possible, hoping he was awake enough to hear it. After waiting a few minutes, it was obvious he wasn’t, so I tried knocking harder. I even did Conner’sshave-and-a-haircutand hated myself for it, but it seemed like one way at least to convey that it wasn’t the cops at the door. Finally, as a last resort, I tried the doorbell.
Inside, a light switched on, and my heart jumped into my throat. I’d had the entire drive to plan what I was going to say, practice speeches that were varying levels of groveling, but then I heard the door unlatch and it swung open and any plans flew right out of my head.
Sam was wearing a Tampa Bay Lightning T-shirt and sweatpants, his feet bare, his hair all rumpled, a crease from his pillow still across one cheek. He looked so cozy and cute and warm, soSam, that I immediately wanted to lean forward and wrap my arms around him. But his face was a kaleidoscope of emotions, ranging from irritated to wary to concerned. I took a step back instead.
Hiseemed inadequate. But after the seconds passed, with us just staring at each other, it seemed better than nothing. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I tried to get it to form the word.
“This is veryJudgment Ridge,” Sam said finally, his voice still hoarse with sleep.