Read Online Sharing Sam by Katherine Applegate - Free Book Online Page B

little time, we can make it work. We can make her happy.”
    Miguel took my hand and we stood there silently, staring out at the water. Laughter floated from the living room. An old Stones song boomed from the CD player. I held on to Izzy’s parents and they held on to me. I knew they were wondering why I, someone else’s daughter, should live and theirs should not.
    “I’m sorry,” I said, because it was all I could say, and because I was wondering the very same thing.
    The next day Izzy went back to school. After a while we started to get the hang of being around a person with cancer. Turns out it’s just like being around a person without cancer.
    That is, unless you know her prognosis and she doesn’t. Or maybe she does, but you’re afraid to ask and she doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to bring it up.
    It wasn’t like Iz was in denial or anything. We talked lots about how scary everything had been and what a general pain in the butt being sick was. But it was general scariness, not specific I-might-die scariness.
    I tried to get her to ventilate; I wanted to be there if she wanted to talk. I tried like crazy to sense what she wanted meto say and do, but mostly she seemed to want to go back to being just plain Izzy.
    I still hadn’t gotten around to telling her about Sam. I wanted to, I tried a dozen times, but she seemed so infatuated with him after the party, I just didn’t have the heart to hurt her. Who cared if he’d kissed me or if we were going to the Valentine’s Day dance? Making a big production out of it seemed so small-minded, so irrelevant, in the face of everything Izzy was going through.
    On Thursday evening I’d just gotten off the phone with Izzy when the phone rang again. It was Sam.
    “I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for that dance thing Saturday,” he said. I could hear the shyness in his voice, and it made me smile.
    “Looks like you’re stuck,” I said. “I already bought a dress.”
    “Good. That’s good. I … I’m glad you didn’t change your mind. Morgan kind of forced you into it.”
    I lay back on my bed, twisting the phone cord around my finger. There was something very mysterious about talking to a guy on the phone, I decided. It was all imagination, no eyes, no lips, no gestures. All voice. I could have listened to Sam’s voice all night. It had a soft urgency, like the wind parting the palms by my window, like that brief miracle of a kiss we’d shared.
    “How is Morgan?” I asked.
    “Not so great. We’re having a rough week. But it’ll be cool. I’ve got it all under control. My neighbor Jane is going to keep an eye on him Saturday night.” He paused. “Well …”
    “I should hang up,” I said. “I’ve been on the phone all night with Izzy. I’m starting to feel like I’m glued to the receiver.”
    “She seems pretty good, under the circumstances. She going to the dance?”
    I tried to ignore the hollow spot in my chest. “No. I wish she were.” I cleared my throat. “I guess Izzy’s so gorgeous she kind of scares guys off.”
    “That’s too bad. She’s a great girl.”
    There was a pause. “I should go,” I said again, although I didn’t want to.
    “Good night,” Sam said softly, so softly I could barely hear him.
    I hung up the phone and sighed. I had to tell her. I knew I had to tell her.
    By the time Friday rolled around I was frantic. The Valentine’s Day dance was the next night. Lunchtime, I decided. I would bring it up casually, a throwaway remark: “By the way—you won’t believe this, Iz, it’s got to be some kind of miracle—but I’m going to the dance with Sam. No, really, it’s no big deal.…”
    That day the honor society was selling carnations in the lunchroom to would-be romantic types. A white carnation signified friendship, pink was liking, red was all-out lust. Girls sent them to guys, guys to girls, and all day long they were delivered to classes by members of the honor society.
    “I hate all