“We can’t tell anyone this!”
“Okay—we’ll keep it a secret.”
Sam swims up to me. And we look at each other. I take in his face illuminated by occasional bursts of light from the sky. He is right about one thing. I don’t think I could ever forget the way he’s looking at me in this moment.
“Are you mad we did this?” he whispers.
“No. Just a little nervous.” I feel a shiver, not from the cold, but from the thrill of being out here with him.
“Me, too.”
Sam smiles and moves my hair behind my ear. Then he lifts my chin gently with his other hand, and he kisses me. We close our eyes, listening to fireworks going off around us.
A beam from what could be a flashlight shines through the trees, followed by some voices and the sound of footsteps coming up the path.
“Someone’s coming!” I gasp.
“What—”
We dive underwater to hide ourselves. I hold my breath and bubbles swarm and swirl around me as I fall through the water like a stone pulled through space, before emerging onto dry concrete.
It’s broad daylight out. The smell of food carts and sulfur fills the air as skyscrapers rise up around me. It’s the summer before senior year. I’m standing on the streets of New York City, adjusting a duffel bag that’s digging into my shoulder as Sam suddenly appears, dashing past me, pulling along a suitcase.
“No time to stop! We gotta go!”
“Hold on!”
Sam is leaving for Japan in an hour and forty-two minutes. The next subway to the airport arrives any minute now, and if he misses it he could miss his flight. He is spending the entire summer in Osaka with his grandparents, so he and I planned a good-bye weekend trip together before he heads off.
Sam glances at his phone for directions. “This way!”
“Just slow down—”
We zigzag through stalled traffic and push through crowds, avoiding steam spouting from manholes and the occasional corner merchant trying to sell me handbags. Once we make it down a narrow stairwell and turn the corner, Sam goes crashing into the metal turnstile and wheezes.
“You have to swipe your MetroCard—” I swipe it once for each of us as we hurry through and head down another set of stairs. When the platform rumbles beneath my feet, I know we made it just in time. I look out and see the train lights shining through the tunnel.
It’s time for us to say good-bye. I wish we had a few more days together. I wish I was going with him.
Sam kisses my cheek. “I have to go.”
The train doors open behind him, letting people pour onto the platform.
I don’t know what to say. I hate good-byes. Especially with him.
“I’ll text you soon as I’m there, okay?”
“Don’t forget!”
I hand Sam his duffel bag. He kisses me one last time and steps inside.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Why does it have to be for so long?”
“It’s only six weeks. And we’ll talk every day.”
“Wait…” I grab his arm. “Take me with you.”
He smiles at me. “We can go together next summer. After graduation.”
“Promise?”
“Don’t worry, we can travel every summer for the rest of our lives, okay? You and me.”
“Okay,” I say. And then I remember something. “Wait—your jacket!” I take off his denim jacket to hand over before the door closes, but Sam stops me.
“Keep it for me.”
I smile and hold the denim close to my chest.
“You better have written a ton by the time I’m back. I can’t wait to read it.”
“I’ve barely started anything!”
“Well, now you won’t have me as a distraction.”
“You’re not a distraction—” I start.
But the train doors close between us.
Sam and I look at each other through the window. Then he breathes onto the glass and writes something. I read the letters right before they vanish.
S + J
I smile and place a hand on the window. Sam presses his hand against mine. We look at each other for as long as we have left. I wish I could frame this moment between us.
A voice comes through the intercom, reminding those of us on the platform to stay behind the yellow line. I take a couple steps back as the train begins to move, taking Sam with it. I stand there clenching the jacket, watching the train pick up speed until it becomes a roaring blur of lines, blasting air up from the tracks, blowing back my hair.