Ned Gets Stood Up

Chapter Four

If Ned could do it? Why couldn't Sam?

"Because you know, I actually have a date tonight too." He stared right into Ned's eyes as the words left his mouth and Ned Flowers didn't even flinch.

"Really?' He asked. "That's a wild coincidence."

He even laughed and Sam's whole face was enflamed. He started talking more, weaving this lie into something bigger than a scarf or a sweater. This was going to be a giant lie quilt. "Yeah, that's another reason Maggie wants my help because... because she's going to help me get ready. She's setting me up."

"Maggie's setting you up?"

His surprise wasn't crazy. Margaret didn't run in the same social circles as them. Hers were all jocks and preps while Sam's friends consisted of three people and a few acquaintances he sat next to at lunch sometimes. Not that her friends weren't nice to Sam. He usually had a good time with them, but polite conversation and spit swapping were on two totally different levels.

"Yeah," Sam continued, "it's uh- a friend of hers she's bringing to the Christmas party."

"You're going to the Christmas party?"

"Yes."

"But you hate Christmas—"

Sam opened his mouth to argue, his chest tightening at the sight of Ned wilting like a sad puppy dog.

"And you hate parties!" Ned insisted.

It was aggravating to be known so well and yet misunderstood time and time again. How did Ned know all of Sam's likes and dislikes without clueing into what Sam liked most of all? Ned Flowers. Sam hated him.

They dropped the shelf on Sam's front lawn. Their eyes met as Ned and Sam caught their breath, Sam still buzzing from his lies. He gazed into Ned's dark brown eyes so long, Sam almost got sucked right into them. His longing burned like the very end of a candle. Surrounding wax threatened to extinguish the flame, but Sam still somehow held on. Somehow still bright.

Sam fibbed again, "Well, I like going on dates so..." He crossed his arms, annoyed by how easily every lie fell out of his mouth.

These didn't feel like the comfortable lies he'd tell his parents about plans to go to law school, about liking his mother's homemade eggplant lasagna, or that he was fine. These lies felt too powerful. These lies felt like opening doors he didn't know how to close.

"So," Sam sighed. "I'm excited. I can call you after."

Ned stared at him a beat longer before he smiled and nodded. "Okay, yeah. That sounds good. Uh, call me if you need a ride or anything."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Sam tightened his grip on his arms. Ned lingered. They stood there. Not speaking. Just staring as if Sam was supposed to be a goddamn mind reader. With greater effort than necessary, Ned looked like he physically had to move his feet back. Sam watched him leave the grass and had to pick his own feet up, too. Glancing behind his shoulder, Sam realized Ned wasn't watching him go, so he kicked it into gear and dashed inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Maggie!" He called, running past the living room, only to fall back.

His sister was perched on the couch, curled up in a flannel blanket with her laptop on her stomach. Her brows raised. "That was quick."

"Hey, I need a favor."

She groaned, squirming against the couch. "I saw that shelf and I'm too comfy. Can't Ned just grow a set of balls and walk into our house?"