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Walking down each step felt like he was descending to his doom. His life sentence. To hear the words of his judgment. His mother was nowhere to be seen, and Susan stood in the doorway of their living room, as if she was undecided if she wanted to come into the house or flee back to hers.
“Hi,” he said, his voice sounding scratched.
“Hi.” Susan’s eyes were wide as she surveyed him. She was dressed as if she were going to a party. She wore one of her nicer dresses, and her hair was styled with finger curls. She wore low-heeled pumps that made her a couple of inches taller.
“How are you?” she said after a long moment.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. She was here, and that was something to be grateful for, right? “I’ve had better weeks.”
Her smile was tentative. “So have I.”
Now, what did that mean? Guilt crept in. He’d ruined their friendship, so of course she was probably hating him right now. But she’d been courteous enough to come over and end it officially in person.
“I’m sorry,” he ventured. “About everything. I never should have made you uncomfortable. I should have kept those thoughts to myself.”
Her brow furrowed, and she stepped toward the door.
Now what had he done? Before he could apologize for apologizing, she spoke. “Do you think we could talk outside?” She glanced past him.
His parents weren’t on the main floor, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be able to hear them in the quiet of the house. “Of course,” he said.
Susan turned and pushed through the door, Sam following. She didn’t stop on the porch, though. She continued across the front yard, then stopped under the group of trees at the corner of the property. They’d spent many afternoons lounging in the grass in the shade of these trees. Sometimes reading or playing games. Other times talking about outrageous future plans, all of which seemed laughable right now.
When Susan stopped, Sam stopped, leaving plenty of distance between them. They were back far enough from the street that if a car drove through the neighborhood, they’d stay concealed.
“Sam, I’ve been thinking about what you said...”
He folded his arms, creating some sort of protective barrier against her words and his emotions.
“And I like you too.” She released a breath, as if it had been a difficult thing to say.
He knew she liked him. They were best friends—or had been.
“And if you’re still asking, I want to go to the Spring Fling with you.”
Now this did surprise him. “As friends?” he blurted out before he could think reasonably. She’d just raised the flag of peace and he had to question it.
She smiled then, and he knew he’d give his right arm to know what was going on inside her head right now.
“Yes, as friends,” she said with a laugh.
But the laugh only pierced his chest like a hot fire poker.
“We’ve always been friends, Sam. Do you think that would change just because we’re going steady?”
Wait . . . “Steady? As in going on more than one date?”
Her smile grew. “If you’ll ask me. I suppose I could ask you too. I mean, it’s 1919.”
Sam blinked. Were Susan and her red hair and smile a mirage? Had he fallen asleep at his desk doing homework? Would he wake up in a couple of hours with a kinked neck and dry mouth?
He dragged a hand over his face, then refocused on her. “You want to go steady with me?” His voice was barely audible, but surely she heard it.
“I do.” She took a small step closer to him. “If you haven’t changed your mind?”
Sam laughed, mostly in surprise and relief. “I haven’t changed my mind. I’d never change my mind.”
“Good.” Susan was grinning now. “Because I want to try something.”
