“Show me how,” I said, and he wrapped his hand over mine.
* * *
SAM, JORDIE, AND Delilah all got acceptance letters to Queen’s that spring, and I was thrilled for them and especially for Sam, who won one of a handful of academic scholarships that would cover the bulk of his tuition. My acceptance to U of T was met with great fanfare from my parents and Sam, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was standing on the ground while everyone else boarded a rocket ship.
Not that Sam gave me any reason to feel that way. We emailed constantly when we were apart, already making plans for when we could see each other when we both started university. He sent me the schedule for the train that ran between Kingston and Toronto—the trip was under three hours—and the sweetest, nerdiest list of bookstores and hospitals he thought we should visit in both cities.
By April, Toronto was in bloom with tulips and daffodils, and the buds on the magnolia and cherry blossom trees were getting fat. But up north, clumps of icy snow still hung around the edges of Bare Rock Lane and throughout the bush. Sam and I trudged up along the streambed, our boots sinking in where the snow was still surprisingly deep, and slipping on the damp ground where the sun had managed to break through the boughs. It smelled both fresh and fungal, like one of Mom’s expensive mud masks, and there was so much rushing water, we had to raise our voices over the roar.
The stream was quieter by the swirling pool where the old fallen tree lay across its belly. It was a bright day, but chilly in the shade of the pines, and the bark was soggy even through my jeans. I was glad for the quilted jacket Sam convinced me to wear.
“So there’s this big party at the end of the year,” he said once we settled, handing me one of Sue’s oatmeal-raisin cookies from the pocket of his fleece. “It’s right after graduation, and, uh, everyone gets dressed up . . .” He pushed his hair out of his eye—he hadn’t cut it in months and it tumbled over his forehead in a waterfall of swooshes and swoops.
“You mean prom?” I asked, grinning.
“There is a prom, but it’s nothing special. This is like a grad party except it’s in a big field in the middle of the bush.” He raised his eyebrows as if to ask, So what do you think?
“Sounds fun, which you have time for now,” I said, taking a bite of the cookie.
He cleared his throat. “So I was wondering, if it doesn’t conflict with your grad, if you wanted to go with me.” He winced slightly and clarified, “You know, as my date.”
“Will you be wearing a suit?” I smiled, picturing it already.
“Some people wear jackets,” he said slowly. “Is that a yes?”
“If you wear a suit, then I’m in,” I elbowed him in the ribs. “Our first date.”
“The first of many,” he elbowed me back. And my smile fell.
“There’ll be other dates, Percy,” he promised, reading my mind and lowering his face to mine. “I’ll come see you in Toronto, and you’ll come to Kingston—whenever we can.” There was a stinging in my nose, like I had eaten a spoonful of wasabi.
“Four years apart is a long time,” I whispered, playing with my bracelet.
“For you and me? It’ll be nothing,” he said softly, and before I could ask, he hooked his index finger around my bracelet and gave it a gentle tug. “I swear,” he said. “And besides, we’ve got time. We’ve got all summer.”
But he was wrong. We didn’t have all summer at all.
* * *
SAM READ SCHOOL textbooks—for fun!—in his downtime and landed a full academic scholarship to one of the most competitive programs in the country, so obviously I knew he was smart. But finding out that he had the highest GPA in his class rocked me.
“So you’re, like, smart-smart,” I said when he called to tell me the news. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I study and school comes pretty easy to me,” he replied. I could almost hear him shrug. “It’s not that big of a deal, really.”
But it was that big of a deal. Having the top marks in his graduating class meant Sam was its valedictorian and therefore required to give a speech at his graduation.
I drove to Barry’s Bay the day of his grad ceremony, which was also the night of the big after-party, the strapless white dress Delilah and I picked out at the mall hanging from a hook in the back of the car. My graduation—a sweltering uneventful affair held late afternoon on the school’s soccer field—had been a few days earlier. When I got to the cottage, I had just enough time to shower, change, put on a little makeup, and fix my hair in a side braid that hung down over one shoulder. I had made Sam find out what kind of footwear the girls wore to a fancy bush party, so I headed to the Floreks’ in a pair of silver flip-flops with rhinestones on the straps.