You've Found Oliver (You've Reached Sam, #2)(3)

“I’m still waiting on my friend,” I say.

But twenty minutes go by. Why hasn’t he answered my text yet? I keep glancing out the window, hoping to see him outside. Eventually, the waitress comes back again.

“Sorry, he’ll be here soon.”

“Alright, sweetie, but we have a long wait tonight.”

There’s still no reply from him. Hopefully everything is alright. After another twenty minutes pass, I’m forced to give up the table and wait outside. It’s starting to rain a little. I’m standing on the sidewalk, trying not to get my hair wet.

Then my phone vibrates. A text from Zach. Finally.

Sorry. I can’t make it anymore



For a second, I think he’s joking.

what do you mean? Is something wrong



I’m just not ready for this. Should have told you sooner



but you asked me to come all the way here



I know, I’m sorry. It just doesn’t feel right



I don’t know what to say back. We made all these plans together.

Should we try another day?



The text doesn’t go through. At first, I think it’s my cellphone signal. Then I check the app and see his profile has vanished. I search for our old messages, but they’re all gone. This must have been an accident, right? How am I gonna reach him again? It’s raining harder all of a sudden. The next bus home won’t come for another few hours. I wasn’t expecting to spend this evening alone. I stare at the blank screen. Then I send another text and find a bench to sit on.

I don’t know how much time passes. But at some point, someone appears at my side, placing an umbrella over my head. I don’t even have to look up to know who it is.

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Sam keeps the umbrella steady as I lift my head. He must have left soccer practice early to come find me.

“Oh, you know…just wanted some fresh air.”

“In Redmond?”

Maybe I should just tell the truth. After all, he came all the way here. I let out a breath and say, “I was supposed to meet Zach for the first time. But he never showed up.”

“Did he know you were coming?”

“We’ve been planning it for a while.” I point toward the restaurant down the street. “I told him I didn’t mind taking the bus here. I guess it was a waste of time.”

“I’m sorry, Oliver.”

I shrug. “It’s okay. I mean, it could have been worse, right?”

“Sure, you were too good for him anyway.”

“You’re my best friend. You have to say that.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “You deserve better than that, okay? You deserve someone who gives you flowers.”

If only that person could be you. Of course, I keep this thought to myself as I rise from the bench and place my head on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming to get me. Let’s go home.”

“But we’re already here,” Sam says, smiling. He glances at the restaurant, then back at me. “The place might still be open if you want to go.”

“I’m not going back in there.”

Sam laughs. “Then let’s get some pizza.”

He puts his arm around me, leading us down the sidewalk. There’s a spot right across the street. Sam opens the door, letting me go in first. As I step inside, the memory changes again, pulling me somewhere else…



* * *





Sunlight fills the café as I come inside. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the place is packed. Sam is standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer. It’s his first week on the job. I decided to stop by and surprise him at work. Maybe get a free drink while I’m here.

“Excuse me.” I cough, making my voice sound deeper. “I’m curious, what’s the difference between a latte and a cappuccino? And are the muffins made fresh?”

“First of all, they’re scones,” Sam says. “And since when do you drink coffee?”

I hold up a hand. “Now, that’s no way to talk to a paying customer,” I say, appearing offended. “Can I speak with your manager?”

“Get out.”

We both laugh while I lean against the counter. “Alright, Squidward. How’s your first week going?”

“Getting the hang of it,” he says, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder. “You should have been here during the rush. I had two women screaming at me.” He turns around, grabbing something from behind him.

“I hope you’re taking advantage of the free drinks.”

“I’m actually making one right now—”

Sam sets a steaming cup on the counter. The froth is dusted with sugar.

“Looks fancy,” I say.

“It’s a honey lavender latte. But it’s not for me.” For a second, I think it must be for me. Then Sam gestures to a table in the back. “It’s for that girl behind you.”

“Oh.”

“She ordered it the last time she came in. Her name is Julie.”

I take a good look at her, trying not to make it obvious. A girl with dull brown hair is sitting at a table alone, writing in her journal. I’ve never seen her around before.