No Wings To Fly

Chapter Fifteen

"Hi Jay."

I swear I could've done a cartwheel right there out of sheer excitement. "Sam!"

I would've ran up to her and given her a giant hug, but I realized she was still hurt.

Sam's smile was so huge, and she burst out into her famous, contagious laughter. I laughed along right beside her. Sam enveloped me in a gentle hug, still, and only barely winced.

My heart was so full at this moment. Sam was back. Sam was safe.

It took a moment for us to return back to reality. We just stood there staring at each-other in disbelief. "Sam," I laughed.

"Jay," Sam whispered.

She took in one, deep breath of relief. Suddenly, she fell. I was quick to catch her. "Sam!"

She held a pale hand over her heart and panted out her breath. "I'm fine!"

Sam stood quickly, determined to be independent. Still, I carried her to the chair near the window and made her sit. "Really, James, I'm okay."

I furrowed my eyebrows together and didn't respond. 

"Did you hear what I told you the other day, you know... when you were unconscious?" I nervously wrung my hands together.

She laughed gently, clasping at her chest. "You were talking to me when I was unconscious?"

I blushed fiercely. "Yeah... I guess so." I scratched the back of my head and looked downwards.

She laughed again, this time sounding pained. I gave her a moment to recover. 

"And what did you say to me while I was unconscious?" Sam's eyebrows both raised in a comical manner while I was dying beside her.

"Nothing." I said quietly.

"Okay, Jay." She laughed.

"Okay, Sam."

Sam gave me another smile, though it wasn't the same. Her forehead wrinkled in pain and Sam gave a slight gasp. I hated seeing her in pain.

I gave Sam a sympathetic look. She tried to stand, tried to get up. I immediately shot straight up by her side, grabbing her arm to steady her. 

"I'm fine. Stop acting like I am made of porcelain."

I stopped her and set Sam down on her bed. "Yeah, Sam. You just had a heart attack."

She glared at me. "Sam! You could have died! You have a heart disease! You just had surgery!"

Sam just stared at me with a look of confusion. That confusion burst into flaming rage. "Who told you about my heart condition?" 

I suddenly realized my mistake, all too late to fix it. I couldn't answer. "Stop acting like its not a big deal. Sam, you are dying!"

My breathing was unsteady, loud. Hers seemed to catch in her chest. 

Then, in a whisper, I asked her the one question that had been burrowing its way into my mind. "How long do you have?"

When she didn't answer, I asked again. "Sam, how long do you have?"

"Five months." Her voice cracked. Enough was enough.

"Goodbye, Sam. I'm gonna go now. I- I-" 

She sat on her bed, head in her hands, while I scurried out of the door.