You've Found Oliver (You've Reached Sam, #2)(12)

I head home for dinner that evening. The television is on when I come inside. Mom is cooking in the kitchen. I can smell garlic bread in the toaster oven. Since I live close to home, I try to stop by as often as I can. But schoolwork can sometimes keep me away. That’s why we came up with Thursday night dinners. It’s the only day of the week she takes off. Mom works as a waitress at this Greek restaurant outside of town. It was the first job she could get after we moved out of my stepdad’s place.

“Knock, knock,” I say.

Our kitchen is a little cluttered. Looks like we’re having chicken again. Mom kisses me on the forehead and says, “We’re out of olive oil.”

“I could have picked it up on the way.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get some from work tomorrow.”

I grab some plates from the cabinet and help set the table. I always bring out Mom’s favorite ceramic dish. It’s the one we made together at a pottery class on her birthday. It also happened to be the night Nolan hooked up with Connor. But I try not to let that taint the memory. I know how much the gift meant to Mom. She painted it seafoam green, which she says is the color of my eyes. There’s a photo of us from that night on the refrigerator.

Mom scoops the potatoes onto my plate. “How was school?”

“Not too bad. Still figuring out my schedule.”

“I hope you’re getting along with your new roommate.”

“Ethan? He’s alright, I guess.” I take a bite of the chicken. “I mean, he’s no prince charming, but he could be worse.”

“As in the prince of Wales?” She shakes her head. “You must not be watching the news. Nothing royal about that family.”

I tell her about the classes I’m shopping. There’s a couple more I’m checking out this week. Mom asks if Julie made it safe to Copenhagen. I let her know she texted me the second she got off the plane. I’m planning to wake up early to call her in the morning.

“Did you visit Sam today?”

I don’t answer this right away. Mom knows how hard this year has been. After all, she watched us grow up together. He came over to our house a thousand times. She would make snacks for us when we played video games in the living room. So I know she misses him, too….

“No, but I did yesterday.”

Mom nods. “I’m sure he appreciates that.” She doesn’t ask me any more questions about it. But he’s all I think about as I finish the rest of my plate.

After dinner, we put on a television show in the living room. Mom is a big fan of period dramas. It’s nice to sit down with her and make fun of the costumes. But I can only stay for one episode tonight. There’s some reading I need to get done before bed. As usual, Mom wraps up food for me to take back. She kisses me on the cheek and stands by the front door until I’m out of sight.

It’s always nice to visit home. I know how much Mom appreciates spending time together. She always says I’m the only man left in her life.



* * *





It’s 9:05 when I get back to my dorm. The lights are off, which means Ethan is probably out with friends again. I head to my side of the room and close the curtain. Then I fall face-first into bed and rest my eyes for a few minutes. Hopefully, Ethan doesn’t bring a girl back tonight. I have to get up for a 9:00 am class. I probably wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think the professor was cute—at least by forty-year-old-bald-guy standards. Thankfully, it’s only once a week.

I turn on my side, checking my phone again. I was hoping to get another text from him. The guy with Sam’s phone number. Maybe I should change the contact name to something else, since it doesn’t belong to Sam anymore. I wish I knew his name so I could look him up. I want to know everything about him. What color is his hair? Does he have siblings? A dog? My finger hovers over the keyboard as I think of something to write.

I know I should wait until tomorrow. But I can’t help myself.

I send him another message.

How was the rest of your day?



God, I’m so bad at this. I should have said something more interesting. Like mention the song we’ve been talking about. Twenty long minutes go by with no response, making me regret my decision. I bet he deleted my number already. I’ll probably never hear from him again.

Then my phone goes off. There’s a new message.

Hey



I was just thinking about you



I exhale with relief and push myself up. He was thinking about me. What should I say back?

Was thinking about you too



Glad to know you’re not sick of me



of course not haha



Wasn’t expecting to hear from you though



It’s a nice surprise



Sorry, I’m just used to texting this number



Hard to break a habit you know?



To be honest, I’ve gotten used to seeing your number pop up, too



Always wondered if it would stop one day



I think about the messages I sent before. How vulnerable they all were.

I’m still embarrassed about that…



I never thought anyone was reading those messages