A girl with long blond hair puts an arm around Sam’s shoulders, embracing him from behind. She glances at me. “Who’s this?”
“This is Julie. She just moved here.”
“Oh—where from?”
“Seattle,” I answer.
She stares at me.
“This is my friend Taylor,” Sam says, patting her arm that’s still around him. “We’re all about to see a movie. I get off work in an hour. You should come.”
“It’s a psychological thriller,” Taylor adds. “You’re probably not into that.”
We look at each other. I can’t tell if she’s being rude.
My phone vibrates on the table and I glance at the time. It feels like I’ve woken from a daydream. “That’s okay. I should probably head home.”
As I get up from the table, Taylor slides into my seat, making me wonder if they’re together. I wave good-bye, but before I go, I head to the front counter. When I think Sam isn’t looking, I pull a paper flower from my bag and place it beside the register. I spent a week watching tutorials on how to fold a cherry blossom like the one I found at the bookstore. But the steps were too hard to follow for my untrained hands. A lily was easier.
I zip my bag and hurry out the café door, and suddenly I’m on the front porch of my house, staring out at the lawn. The early morning dew still hangs on the grass. Sam’s car pulls up with the window down. He texted me the night before.
Hey. This is Sam. I just got my license!
Do you want a ride to school tomorrow?
I can pick you up on the way if you want
I climb onto the passenger seat and shut the car door. A pleasant scent of citrus and leather hits me. Is that cologne? Sam moves his denim jacket as I buckle myself in. A USB cable connects the stereo to his phone placed inside the cup holder. There’s a song playing in the background, but I don’t recognize it.
“You can change the music if you want,” Sam says. “Here—plug your phone in.”
A shock of panic hits me and I squeeze my phone tight. I don’t want him knowing what I listen to yet. What if he doesn’t like it? “No this is fine.”
“Oh, you like Radiohead too?”
“Who doesn’t?” I say. It’s a quiet drive through neighborhood streets. We exchange glances from time to time, as I think of things to say. I look at the backseat. A suit jacket hangs from the grip handle. “Is this your car?”
“No, it’s my dad’s,” Sam says, lowering the volume. “He doesn’t work Thursdays, so this is the only morning I get to drive it. I’m saving up to buy my own, though. That’s why I’m working at the café.”
“I’m trying to save up, too.”
“For what?”
I think about it. “College, I guess. Maybe an apartment, after I move or something.”
“Where are you moving? You just got here.”
I’m not sure what to say.
Sam nods. “So it’s a secret…”
I smile at this. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time.”
“That’s fair,” Sam says. He looks at me. “How about next Thursday?”
I hold back a laugh as we turn into the school parking lot. Even though the drive doesn’t last long, Thursdays are becoming my new favorite day of the week.
The memory changes again. Lights dance across a gymnasium floor and music blares as I step through an archway made of silver and gold balloons. It is the night of the school dance and I don’t know anyone here. I’m wearing the new dress my mom helped pick out, dark blue satin that flows out at the waist. With my long hair pinned up, I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. I wanted to stay home, but my parents forced me to go out and make friends. I didn’t want to disappoint them. I spent the last hour standing against the cold cement wall, watching the floor fill with people dancing and laughing. I check my phone from time to time, pretending I’m waiting for someone, but it’s just an empty lock screen. Maybe this was a mistake.
Something keeps me from leaving. Sam mentioned he might be here tonight. I texted him a few hours ago but he hasn’t responded—maybe he hasn’t checked his phone yet? When the music slows down and the crowd disperses, I leave my spot at the wall and make my way through the dance floor, searching for him. It takes me a while, but the moment I see him, my heart drops. There he is, with his arms wrapped around Taylor, slow-dancing. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach. Why did I come here? I should have stayed home. I shouldn’t have texted him. I turn away before anyone sees me, and rush toward the gym doors.