What Holds Us Together

by Sandi Ward

  “I don’t know. No one’s asked me yet, and Sam’s a nice guy. He’s nice to me, anyway, not like most of the useless loser boys in our grade. And I highly doubt anyone’s going to want to go with Mark, so he’ll need a date.”

  Dana and I glance at each other. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Mark is a super-nice guy, and he’s got lots of friends.

  “What’s the matter?” Lisa laughs at our sour faces. “It would be great. Although I guess Sam will take Patty.”

  I’m afraid to ask. “Why do you think Sam is going to take Patty?”

  She shrugs. “Because they went out, right? When I was at Cheryl’s party Saturday night, I heard Sam and Craig weren’t there because they took Michelle and Patty to the movies. It’s just what I heard.”

  Oh. That’s fantastic.

  Not that it means anything. They might have just gone as a group of friends, right? Or maybe I’m just kidding myself.

  Last Saturday night, Lisa found out one of the cheerleaders was having a party after the basketball game. Lisa told our parents she was going to sleep over at a friend’s house after the game. Instead, she went to the party in our mom’s car, got drunk, and then slept in the car in the beach parking lot.

  I wasn’t impressed. But yes—I was jealous. Lisa never told me about the party until after the fact. So she didn’t just lie to Mom and Dad. She lied to me, too.

  “Maybe I should ask Peter Kuhn,” Dana says, looking around to see where he went. “He’d look good in a tux.”

  I open my eyes wide. “Really? You wanna ask him?”

  “Maybe.”

  Lisa taps her mouth with one finger, seriously considering it. “Yeah, I could see that. He’d make a good date. But you’d have to ask him early, before someone else gets to him. I mean, let’s be real—he’s kinda out of your league. You probably wouldn’t be his first choice. But I think he’d be too polite to say no.”

  Dana gives Lisa a death stare. I shake my head. Lisa can be so rude.

  “You know,” I say, trying to shake off this whole conversation, “We haven’t pulled any senior class pranks since Christmas.”

  Dana smacks my arm. “You’re right! What’s wrong with us?” Her eyes glisten as she scans the yard. “Let’s get everyone to run over the hill to the golf course, and we’ll make snow angels and snowmen.”

  I laugh. It sounds so innocent and fun when she puts it that way. “Yeah, that’s good. I like that.”

  “No,” Lisa says, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “No, you guys. That’s so babyish. I’m not doing that.”

  “Come on.” I roll my eyes. “You are such a spoilsport.”

  She purses her lips. “I guess it would be funny to see Mr. Galanes in a panic.”

  “Sure.” Dana is already taking a step back, looking around to see who might join us in this venture. “If that guy loses the senior class, after forcing us to come outside while it’s snowing, he deserves it.”

  Lisa’s hood obscures much of her face, but I can see she’s frowning. “But I can’t afford to get detention again. One more time and I probably won’t graduate.”

  “Don’t worry. Galanes will come looking for us and find us within five minutes,” I reassure her.

  Dana nods in agreement. “It’s a wicked good prank. Let’s go.”

  I start to walk after Dana, but pull up short when I see Lisa hasn’t moved. “Oh, c’mon, Lisa. Seriously. Come with us. Senior class spirit! Rah-rah-rah, you know?”

  She stares down at her feet. “I’m cold. I can’t feel my toes. I’m gonna go in.”

  “No—look, I don’t even have boots on! Let’s just go for a few minutes.”

  But it’s no use. Lisa turns toward the double doors to head inside. I feel disappointed. Angry. Let down.

  Fine. I don’t need her.

  But at the last minute, I run to catch up to her. “Here. Take my hot chocolate. I haven’t had any of it yet.”

  She nods and takes it. And then she turns back toward the school.

  Dana rounds up most everyone, which is maybe thirty-five kids at this point. I estimate we have about half the senior class right here, with everyone else out sick or in the library, band room, or lunch detention. It seems like a good number to get involved in a prank. I check and make sure Sam is in the group. Sure enough, he’s standing there waiting for me.

  There’s no way he’s seriously interested in Patty. Right?

  I’ve never seen him hug Patty on the blacktop.

  He’s definitely never hugged Patty on Valentine’s Day while snow falls romantically around them. I can at least say that much.

  “C’mon, you guys, let’s go!” Dana points toward the golf course. “Head straight for the scoreboard, and we’ll go right over the hill.”

  We all trudge across the football field, moving about as quickly as can be done in four inches of snow. Everyone walks quietly but steadily as one cohesive group, feet sinking in the white powder, and there’s a feeling of glee in the air. Dana and I lean on each other, giggling and whispering, and we run up the hill.

  At the top of the rise, some boys start laughing and hollering, and roll down the other side. There’s no one on the golf course, naturally. Someone lobs a snowball, and there’s plenty of room for us to have a free-for-all snowball fight, every man for himself. Ice gets under my pants and sticks to my ankles as I run around. It’s so cold on my skin that it burns. But I’m having too much fun to stop and think about it. Sam hits me in the back with a nice lob because I’m too busy watching the snowball to actually run away fast enough.

  He laughs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to actually hit you. You’re supposed to run away from the snowball.”

  “Shut up, Sam. I know what I’m supposed to do.”

  I feel a hand brushing the snow off my back. When I turn, it’s Peter.

  “Hey,” he says, “I got it.”

  I feel my cheeks start to flush a little at the sudden attention. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Sure. I like your mittens.”

  I don’t even know what to say to that. No one has ever complimented my weird mittens before.

  I jump when Peter yells, “Look out!” He ducks, laughs, and runs off. That’s when I realize Sam has thrown a snowball at him. From the look on Sam’s face, he’s not kidding around, either.

  I get in a few more good throws at random kids. It’s only when I see a police car at the top of the hill, where the road passes by the fifth hole of the golf course, that I freeze and turn to Dana. The car parks and the flashing lights turn off. An officer opens the passenger side door, and another comes around the front of the car from the driver’s side.

  I suddenly realize I’m holding my breath. “Hey. What time is it?”

  “I dunno.” Dana pivots to see what I’m staring at. “Oh, shit.” A big snowball sits loosely in her hand, and she lets it drop to the ground. “You know . . . I guess it has been a while.”

  My heart starts beating double time. “I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

  “Guys. HEY, YOU GUYS.” Dana’s voice cuts through the thick air like a carving knife through soft butter. She gets it from her mother, who can holler like no one I’ve ever heard.

  The golf course grows silent. Kids stop running and talking.

  We’re like deer, suddenly caught in the scope of a rifle. Everyone looks up the ridge to the cops, who are staring back at us.

  All the while, the snow keeps falling. The blood pounding through my veins suddenly feels electrified. And when I turn to make eye contact with Sam, my mind flies back to the blacktop for a moment.

  All I can think of is how Sam brought me hot chocolate, and he needed to be comforted, and I gave him the best hug I could while the snow fell around us. As we gaze at each other, the snow drops in big flakes, and in that moment I decide that snow is more romantic than shooting stars or a meteor shower or fireworks, because it’s right here landing on us; we can touch it and smell it and taste it. And it strikes me that that
’s all I want in this moment: to be back hugging Sam, to touch him and smell him and taste him. I want to kiss him for real. Which is all just to say that I think I love Sam—or something like that. If only I knew what love really was.

  I’m starting to realize that I don’t have a crush on Sam. A crush is something silly and frivolous and temporary.

  What I feel for Sam is something else, something deeper and more powerful. I can’t put a name on it. Maybe desire. But desire sounds very adult and scary. So I’m not sure what to call it.

  And perhaps that hug foolishly made me feel invincible. But I’m not powerful. I’m just young and stupid. And now I’ve gotten us all into trouble.

  Sam takes a step toward me. “Annie. It’s okay. Don’t panic.”

  “But—”

  “Galanes is the one who sent us outside in the first place. So we came outside. We just did what he told us to do.”

  “Not exactly, Sam.” I swallow, and my throat feels dry. “I lost track of time. This is bad. Really bad.”

  He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. Round everyone up, and you guys go in. I’ll talk to the cops and explain that it’s just a senior prank. It’ll be totally fine.” Craig is standing nearby, and Sam looks at him. “Everyone should head in, and if Galanes is there, tell him this was my idea, okay?”

  “You sure?” Craig squints at Sam.

  “Yeah, definitely. No big deal—”

  “We can say we all thought of it,” I interrupt. I don’t want Sam to get in trouble. “Let’s just say we all agreed to it.”

  “All right,” Craig agrees, pulling his wool ski hat down farther on his forehead. “Guys, let’s go. Hurry up.”

  I stare at Sam for a moment, and I’m tempted to say more, but he looks so sure of himself. He doesn’t look scared, but I feel scared. I hardly noticed the temperature a minute ago, but suddenly I can feel how bracingly cold the air is on my face. My hands and feet are numb and damp, so I nod and follow Craig.

  We walk toward the school in a pack. Over my shoulder I watch Sam trudge away toward the cops. It’s a long walk through the untouched snow across the fairway, and soon he’s just a figure in a navy-blue coat moving slowly, far away, a trail of footsteps behind him. I feel it, the distance between us, and it starts an ache in my heart.

  When we get back, Galanes is waiting for us. We all get lunch detention tomorrow. He doesn’t seem mad exactly, but he’s upset. I would almost say he seems a little scared, as if he didn’t think we were capable of walking away from school and disappearing like that. Frankly, I didn’t know we were capable of it, either, until it just sort of happened.

  * * *

  My heart drops when Craig comes jogging up to Dana and me at the end of the day while we’re standing at our lockers, shoving books into our backpacks. “Hi,” he says. “Did you guys hear?” I know from his face that it’s bad news.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Sam got into a fight with those cops.”

  “Why—what do you mean?” I drop my backpack in a heap on the tile floor.

  “Yeah, I guess he just snapped. They gave him a hard time, and he started yelling at them. They took him to the police station. I overheard Mrs. Rollo telling some of the other teachers. I’m worried he’s gonna get suspended or something.”

  Dana’s shoulders sag and I slam my locker closed. I rub my forehead. “Why would he do that?”

  “You know he works four nights a week at the butcher shop downtown because his dad’s not working, right? And his mom yells at him all the time. Maybe he’s tired. Don’t you know that? I thought you guys were friends.”

  I sigh. “I do know, but . . . he never complains about it to me.”

  Craig puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Karlsson. If Sam gets suspended, it might be good for him. He’ll get the break he needs. Maybe he can sleep it off at home for a couple of days.”

  Sure enough, Sam is out of school Wednesday and Thursday. I would try to call his house, but from everything he’s told me about his parents, I’m sure he’s in big trouble and they probably wouldn’t let him come to the phone. And I don’t want to bother his dad if he’s really sick.

  The day Sam is supposed to be back, I don’t see him on the bus, and I start to get worried. He’s already in school when I get there, and I run right up to him at his locker, breathless.

  “Hey, Sam. What—”

  “Don’t worry, Karlsson.” He gives me a quick hug; then I feel his hot hand grab mine. “I covered for you.”

  I search his face. “I know, but—”

  “Annie. Look, my dad is pissed. He thinks I can’t do anything right. I’ve never been suspended before. Last time, Galanes just gave me detention. And the cops are involved again. I’m in big trouble.”

  “I’m sorry this turned into a mess. I wish I’d been the one to go talk to the police.”

  “No, it’s okay. I wanted to do it.”

  He moves closer, and I hold my breath. Sam is radiating from the inside out, and I can feel his pulse in the palm of his hand. His chest rises and falls as he tries to keep his breath steady. He wants to kiss me. His eyes give him away. Nothing has ever been so obvious to me in my life.

  But he wavers.

  And then he drops my hand. “I can’t. I gotta go.” Sam looks sorry about it, but he still turns to walk away and head to calculus.

  And then we don’t talk again for two weeks. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed, disappointed, or angry—or all three.

  I hear through the grapevine that Sam’s dad is letting Sam use his truck while he’s out of work and getting cancer treatment. So the good news is that now Sam can get to his job at the butcher shop without having to ride his bike in the snow. The bad news is that Sam starts driving to school every day in the truck, so I see him even less. I feel like a loser, a little kid still stuck on the bus. At least I have Dana to ride with me.

  Sam not only stops talking to me; he stops talking to everyone. Dana doesn’t tease me about him, and I turn my focus to other things. I try to get Lisa to go sledding or ice skating with me to take my mind off of Sam and maybe have some fun, but she’s not interested. She just grunts out a no and closes her bedroom door. Great. We’re the worst sisters in the world.

  Sometimes I look at Sam during math class and I wish he’d kissed me on that blacktop in the snowstorm. I worry that it’s too late, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, an entire lifetime in my teenage brain, it’s late on a Sunday afternoon. It’s a lazy day, not much going on. When there’s a knock at the front door, I’m up in my room reading a book, but I volunteer to get it. I sweep open the door to find Sam standing there on the doorstep, hands in his pockets, a look on his face I don’t recognize. He seems—I don’t know. Sad. Lost. But also hopeful.

  “Hey, Karlsson. I need the science homework.”

  I blink, as if my eyes are deceiving me. He’s the last person I expected to find standing at the door. My heart soars.

  Sam’s face is dark, covered in stubble. It dawns on me that he hasn’t shaved all weekend.

  And then, I think: Sam shaves every morning, like my dad? I feel my stomach clench. When did he turn into a man, while I still feel like a girl?

  I’m a mess. I’m wearing a huge old T-shirt and sweatpants. At least I have on one cool thing: the friendship bracelet that Dana wove for me in pink and green thread. I glance down at my wrist to make sure I’m not imagining it, because I’m convinced it’s the only redeemable aspect to my appearance at the moment.

  I’m instantly furious at Sam.

  “What do you mean you need the science homework?” I scowl at him. “She handed the papers out on Friday.”

  “I know, but I don’t have it.”

  “I saw you take the packet.”

  “Yeah, but I lost it.”

  “Why do you lose everything? What’s so hard about keeping track of a few papers?” I regret the words as soon as they
leave my mouth. I don’t mean to lash out. I can’t explain what’s gotten hold of me, other than to say that the past two weeks have been awful. I missed Sam so much it hurt.

  “You sound like my mom.” I watch as one corner of his mouth twitches. “What’s up with your hair?”

  I feel my hand fly up to touch my hair. My hair? Oh, right.

  Oh, God.

  “It’s in two braids. And then I just twirled them up onto my head. Who cares?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “So, like . . . Star Wars?”

  “Yes.” I double down and stand up straighter. Good for him. He recognizes my hairstyle. Whatever. I don’t have to explain myself. I often wear my hair in braids anyway. I just happened to pin them up today.

  I don’t notice Lisa approaching until she’s right behind me. “Hey, Samuel,” she says with a grin. “Why are you here?”

  He nods at me. “Princess Leia has the science homework, and I need it.”

  “Come in, then.” Lisa reaches out and grabs his arm and pulls him inside. He lets her do this, with a sheepish glance at me.

  I fetch the science homework while Lisa chats with Sam, and return to the front door. I thrust it at him.

  “Here. Copy the questions down at home, and then you can stick it back in my mailbox. It’s already done, so . . . you’ll just have to ignore the answers.”

  “Or you can copy the answers, too,” Lisa suggests, as if that wasn’t an obvious option. But Sam’s not the type to do that.

  “Thanks,” Sam says, “I appreciate it. I’ll get it back in your mailbox soon.”

  I refuse to look at him. I want to. Desperately. But for some reason, I just can’t. “Great.”

  “Karlsson, don’t be mad at me. But I’ve been busy working. My dad told me I have to focus on school and work right now.”

  I whirl around, desperately wanting to push him out the door. “I’m not mad! What would I be mad about?”

  He opens his mouth, but Lisa clucks before he can say anything. “Oooh, are you two in a spat? I didn’t know. What about?”

  “Nothing,” I say, begging her with my eyes to cut it out.

  “I’ve missed talking to you,” he tries. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how you like the tape. I’m sorry we haven’t had time to hang out.”