Ned Gets Stood Up

Chapter Four

SAM

The bookshelf slipped from Sam's hands with a heavy thud and Sam whirled back, cursing up a storm as he reached for his toe as pain shot up through his bones, muscles, and his very soul. Ned hurried over as his side went back down. "Sam! Are you okay? What happened?"

Not sure what to do, Ned kept his hands hovering around Sam. "Is it broken?"

Flushed to the tips of his ears, Sam pushed up his glasses and sighed, letting his foot go as he lowered to his hind legs. "I'm fine," he groaned out. "I'm fine. I just—my hand slipped. It's fine."

An itchy irrational feeling festered across Sam's skin like cheap cotton peeling down his edges. He wanted to pick and gnaw at it. Restless to rid himself of this frustration. It was impossible to control his facial expression, toeing the line between anger, horror, and even a twinge of humiliation. He might as well just rip his clothes off and run through the neighborhood.

Sam asked, "You're going on a date? Today? The day before Christmas Eve?"

"Uh, yeah." Ned rubbed the back of his neck. "There was this guy—"

"What's his name?"

Crazy person.

Sam Hayes sounded like a crazy person.

Ned made him crazy.

"Oh, uh Griffin. We're in the same gym class and I don't know." Ned shifted back and forth, almost dancing, and Sam thought he was going rip out of his skin. "Neither of us ever wanted to play whatever sport coach wanted us to play, so we've been walking around the gym together all semester and talking and he just asked me out last Friday."

He just kept going like everything was fine and like the world wasn't falling apart. "And you know, my parents like it when I find a way to get out of the house. They like keeping the noise to a minimum."

"And do you like him?" Sam asked, a glutton for punishment.

Behind Sam, he could feel his past self laughing at him. A side splitting, snorting, silly laugh right at him. Just behind Sam was the very spot where Ned Flowers kissed him three years ago and now, Ned Flowers of today was standing in front of him, threatening him with a date. A date with someone other than him.

A date on its own was harmless.

But it promised more.

What if this date went well? And they bonded over the things Sam lacked like a love of Christmas, the ability to be honest, and a normal family that didn't hate Ned's guts. They could date openly. Without hiding from their parents' disapproval.

Sam hadn't stopped thinking about that kiss from three years ago. Three years of walking up porch steps and recalling the way Ned leaned into him, the way he smiled, and softness of his lips. For three years, Sam was wondering if he kissed Ned wrong and that was the reason they never kissed. The reason they never spoke about the kiss again.

And if he did such a terrible job kissing Ned Flowers, did that mean he'd never get his chance to kiss Ned again? He wanted one more chance. One more chance to kiss him right. Sam could want something all day, all his life, but it wasn't going to happen.

Ned quirked his brow, and he opened his mouth, when Sam realized he'd rather throw himself off a cliff than listen to his answer. "Never mind," he quickly cut Ned off. "My foot's fine. Let's just get this to my house and Maggie will help me with the rest..."

As soon as the idea came to Sam's head, he couldn't stop the words now flooding from his mouth. He didn't want to feel all this pain and anger alone. He wanted to lash out. Wanted to be back on equal footing.