Like a lot of other people, I found myself wondering what Sam was thinking as he was falling for Josie. So, I decided that he keeps a journal (don't most English teachers?). I've had to excerpt some parts from the movie/book/script for continuity. Like everyone else, I don't own these characters; I just love them. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think.
* * *
Sam Coulson wearily hung up the phone. Dragging a hand through his hair, he plopped down in his favorite overstuffed leather chair and picked up his journal. He'd kept a journal for years. In fact, he found it difficult to remember when he hadn't. Putting his thoughts on paper helped him sort out what he was feeling, helped him make decisions. He briefly nibbled on the cap of his pen and began writing.
April 8, 1999
Yet another shouting match with Lara. What the hell am I doing? All we ever do is fight anymore�she nags me to get a real job�to move to New York�to give up virtually everything that I love. And I just keep on putting her off�delaying a decision. I feel as if I never really knew her...I'm not even sure if I ever loved her. I know that she doesn't really know me. We haven't even made love in months�one of us usually pleads a headache�more avoidance? I strongly suspect that she's seeing other people in New York�probably has been for a while�maybe I should suggest that we take a break from each other. We only seem to make each other miserable.LARA
Pros: Beautiful, great legs, sex used to be great.
Cons: Stuck-up, high maintenance, sex now nonexistent, New York, wants me to give up teaching.
I can't believe I just made up that list. It looks so�cold-hearted on paper.
Tomorrow starts the last quarter of school. It's such a tough time�difficult to keep the student's attention�and yet I'll miss it�I'll miss them when the year is over. Still�it would be nice to have just one student who really cares about literature. Perhaps, someday.
* * *
Sam strode into class just as the bell rang, dumping his briefcase and travel mug on his desk. He glanced around the room at the faces of his students and was surprised to discover a new face in the front row. She was dressed a bit oddly�all in white with some sort of feather boa around the neck�and her hair and makeup was a bit overdone, but Sam chalked it up to some misguided attempt to make an impression. He smiled warmly at her.
"Hi�I don't believe we've met," Sam said. "I'm Sam�Coulson�the school has this thing about letting you guys call me Sam�"
"I'm Josie�and I'm pretty sure that the school would be okay with you calling me that," she said, smiling.
"Welcome to Shakespeare's As You Like It," Sam said as he turned to write on the blackboard. "As You Like It is an example of a Shakespearean pastoral comedy," Sam continued, "anyone know what that means."
Sera�a sweet but somewhat clueless girl�raised her hand. "Isn't that what they do to milk?"
"That's pasteurize, Sera," Sam pointed out gently. At least she was willing to try. "Anyone else?"
Josie shyly raised her hand. "Josie," Sam said.
"Pastoral means set in the country. Originally seen in the Eclogues of Virgil. It's from the Latin pascere, 'to graze,'" she said softly, raising her blue eyes to his.
Someone in the back of the room bleated like a sheep.
Sam just stared at her, smiling in disbelief that such a miracle had occurred in his class. "Are you sure you're seventeen?"
Josie squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "Yes I'm seventeen. I'm seventeen. Yes," she stammered.
She remained quiet for the rest of the period, despite Sam's best efforts to get her to participate.
* * *
April 9, 1999
I have a new student in my senior English lit class�Josie Geller. Odd time for a transfer student to arrive, but it does happen sometimes. Still�she stunned me when she defined the word pastoral�including its Latin root. Obviously, she's an extremely bright girl�I could see it in her eyes. She seems shy, though�I'll have to work to get her to open up a bit in class. It's exciting to finally have a student who seems as fascinated with the written word as I am. Frankly, I think this may be just what I need to make the semester interesting�I can't wait to see how this unfolds.I was concerned though, when I spotted her in the lunchroom talking to Kirsten, Kristen and Gibby. They can be pretty rough on anyone who's a little different�and Josie certainly seems to fall into that category. I hope that she finds her niche�that she manages to make some friends�
* * *
A week later Sam sat at his desk grading his senior lit class' most recent essays: to describe what love meant to them. He read through the mostly typical papers�until he came upon Josie Geller's. She'd written not one, but two essays. Both were deeply thought out, extraordinarily well constructed and beautifully written.
In the first, Josie wrote about her family�how their support and love had helped her to overcome something deeply painful that had happened to her:
So, what does love mean to me? It means accepting and loving someone as they are, warts and all. It means gently encouraging them to grow, to try new things. It means cradling them in your arms as they weep for days on end. At my lowest, most humiliatingly painful hour, my family did all of this for me. They assured me of their love, even their pride, when I believed that I was less than nothing. They convinced me that I could move on, that I had to move on, when I was certain that I could not. And when I was ready, they helped me to re-invent myself. Their love, compassion and support saved my life. That, to me, is true love!
In the second, Josie wistfully described her ideal of romantic love�to finally find your soulmate�the one person that you were meant to be with forever:
I've been accused of being overly romantic, unrealistic in my expectations where love is concerned. I probably am. But I want the kind of love that poets write about, the kind that inspires the great artists of the world. I believe in soulmates; lovers so connected that they communicate heart to heart. I dream of the day when my soulmate draws me into his arms and whispers words of love. The day he kisses me and the world as I know it ceases to exist; replaced forever by a paradise created by our love. And so I will wait, impatiently, breathlessly until he arrives. On this I will not compromise.
Sam was touched�and stunned by the obvious gift that Josie possessed.
* * *
April 16, 1999
I have never had a student like Josie. She understands Shakespeare�not only understands it, but truly seems to love it as much as I do. She's a talented writer�I hope that she is planning to go to college. It would be tragic if such a gift were wasted. Maybe I can help her out�I could call Jake at Dartmouth�I have a feeling Josie would flourish there.She has at least made some friends�with Aldys and the rest of the math club, the Denominators. She seems to be gaining in confidence�she's participating more in class �and then there's her writing.
I don't think I've ever been as impressed with a student's ability to put their thoughts on paper. I was moved by her piece about her family�and find myself wondering what could possibly have hurt a seventeen-year-old so profoundly. Whatever it was�I'm relieved that her family was there to help her through it. It was the other piece, though, that completely blew me away! How she wants to find that one person who is meant for her and hold onto them with all she's got. It made me realize how much I've compromised my ideals�I once yearned for the same thing. I need to resolve things with Lara...if I loved her would I be so reluctant to move to New York? If she loved me, would she constantly be trying to make me over?
It's strange, though. I have a funny feeling that when the right woman comes along, somehow I'll know. We'll be able to talk for hours about everything and nothing. She'll love me for who I am...not who she wants me to be. And I'll move mountains to be with her. It seems I've found a kindred spirit in Josie Geller!
* * *
Sam asked Josie to read Act V, Scene II from As You Like It, Rosalind's speech. She seemed a bit nervous, so he smiled at her, meeting her eyes. She slowly stood and began to recite the passage, rather than read it. Sam was positive of this because he could plainly see that her book was opened to the beginning:
"No sooner had they met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed�" Josie said softly. Her eyes suddenly seemed very far away�filled with a glimmer of pain.
Sam listened intently�watching Josie, wishing he could do something, anything, to take the hurt from her eyes. The bell rang, bringing Josie back to the present. She briefly met his gaze�and he smiled at her. She quickly looked away, gathered up her books and rushed out of the room.
Sam was startled when she returned only moments later.
"Forgetful," she said, gesturing toward her note cards on her desk.
He was reading a book and her expressive eyes lit up when she noted the author. "Dorothy Parker�"
"You like her?"
"I love the way she writes."
"Not the happiest of souls." He opened his book to the passage he'd been reading. "Art is a form of catharsis, and love is a permanent flop."
"But I think she wanted to be happy," Josie said drawing toward him. "She was writing about love. Maybe deep down she was a real romantic."
Sam looked at her, puzzled.
"She did get married," Josie pointed out.
"Yeah�twice," Sam clarified with a grin. "Her writing is all about the realities of romance, that love is difficult. You have to make sacrifices."
"Well, I'd rather try and flop than settle," Josie said. "Love is too important to compromise."
The looked at each other then and Josie suddenly looked extremely nervous, almost as if she realized she'd said more than she should to a teacher. Her hands scooped up the forgotten note cards and she backed toward the door. "Bye."
* * *
April 21, 1999
Josie mystifies me. She seems to know so much more than other seventeen-year- olds. I'm beginning to think she's one of the wisest people I've ever known.I know that she recited Rosalind's speech in class from memory�perfectly! I loved listening to her soft voice as she breathed life into Shakespeare's words. It is obvious that she has a deep passion for literature. How can she know and understand Dorothy Parker? I didn't read her until I was a sophomore English major in college. And yet Josie spoke of her as if she were an old and dear friend.
And then there was that moment when our eyes met and some sort of mystical connection between us was revealed. I feel somehow that she can see directly into my soul. And I felt her anguish�as she was reading�I felt her drift away to some other place�to a memory that was so painful it almost destroyed her. I wanted to do something, anything, to see her lovely blue eyes light up again�to see her brilliant smile.
Did I just write that? About a student? I think I'm heading for big trouble�
* * *
"Okay, Lara�I'll pick you up on Thursday at five," Sam said with a grimace. "I'm glad you had business in Chicago, too. We do need to talk." He hung up the phone, grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
"I need a diversion," he thought. "Something to get my mind off Lara and her impending visit."
He headed toward the Northwestern campus and parked in front of a run-down coffeehouse. The bells on the door tinkled as he entered; the scents of espresso and cigars assailed his nose. He searched the room for an empty seat and smiled in surprise as he noticed a familiar blond head. Sam weaved through the closely packed chairs until he reached her table.
"Hey, Josie," he said, "I'm surprised to see you here."
She looked up, startled to see him as well. "Hi," she said smiling shyly, "Are you here for the poetry reading?"
Sam nodded and indicated the empty seat at her table. "Mind if I join you? One poetry buff to another that is," he joked.
"That would be nice," she said, "No one I know ever wants to come to these things with me, but I love hearing what other writers have to say."
Sam nodded in agreement. "I haven't had an opportunity to tell you how impressed I am with your writing. It's amazing, Josie. You're really talented. And far less depressing than Dorothy Parker."
"Thank you." Josie looked down at her lap and blushed.
"I hope you're planning on going to college. You owe it to yourself to go. For your writing. You're a natural."
"Thanks. Wow. That's�really nice to hear."
"Josie, you're different. When you speak in class, I can tell�you actually feel the words�in here." Sam touched his hand to his heart. "They're alive. Like�Eudora Welty talked about the word 'moon'? How for her it was like a Concord grape, 'That Grandpa took off his vine and gave to me to suck out of its skin�"
"�and swallow whole." They finished the quotation in unison and both took a deep breath. Embarrassed by the suggestive imagery, they looked away from each other.
Thankfully, another poet took the microphone and Sam and Josie listened in companionable silence as he read several pieces lamenting the world in general and his life in particular. Sam smiled at Josie and whispered, "Not the happiest of souls either, is he?"
She grinned back, "He does rival Dorothy Parker, but at least he isn't afraid to get up there and bare his life to all�he's not afraid to take chances, even if they do wind up slapping him in the face. I'm not sure I could."
They listened as several more poets read their works�and discussed their mutual love of literature in between. Sam was stunned to look at his watch and see that it was past midnight.
"Josie," Sam said softly, "I realize it's a Friday night, but don't you have a curfew?"
Josie looked up, a confused expression on her face. Then her eyes widened as she noticed the time on her watch. "Ohmigosh! I'm going to be in so much trouble. Sorry�and thanks! I'll see you Monday!" She grabbed her bag and rushed out the door.
* * *
April 23, 1999
I'm more puzzled than ever about Josie. What was she doing all the way over by Northwestern all alone? And at a college coffeehouse? Still�it was nice to run into her outside of school�to get a chance to talk with her in depth. It was so refreshing to be with someone who seems so completely on the same wavelength as I am. I totally lost track of time in her company. She's really quite a sweet person, intelligent, quick-witted, and pretty in a soft, shy way.There I go again�talking about her as if she's someone I'm interested in. I have to remember she's my student and I'm her teacher�that's a line that can't be crossed. I'll have to settle for being her friend and, maybe, her mentor. Still...there's something about Josie...
Lara's coming on Thursday for a couple of days�I'm sure that will be another pleasant experience. Wrong attitude there�I need to give this one more chance�it has been five years, after all. I owe her that much, at least.
* * *
As the final bell of the day rang, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He had a long list of things to do tonight, things he knew he wouldn't get to over the weekend. He'd be too busy catering to Lara's every whim. Glumly, he shoved his books in his briefcase and flicked out the lights. He pulled his keys from his pocket and strode purposefully down the hall.
Sam's mind was on Lara's impending visit. He wasn't looking forward to it. He also wasn't looking where he was going. He swung around a corner into a stairwell and careened into someone. They both dropped the loads they carried and crashed to the floor.
Sam shook his head, trying to gain his composure. "Sorry," he muttered. He opened his eyes to find Josie Geller beside him on the floor. He smiled apologetically at her. "Josie! I'm so sorry�I was preoccupied�I wasn't watching where I was going. You okay?"
Josie nodded, smiling back. "I wasn't paying attention, either."
They both got to their knees and leaned forward to pick up their lost items. This time, their heads collided�hard.
"Ouch," cried Josie. "Now I'm seeing stars." She rubbed her forehead.
Sam chuckled. "I've been told many times that I'm hard-headed." He took her arm and guided her to the step and sat beside her. "I'm feeling a little dizzy myself," he teased.
"Hey�my head's not that hard�"
"What do you mean, not hard?" he joked. "Look at this." He pointed to a faint red mark on his forehead.
"Oh, come on�that's barely even red. Now this�" Josie lifted her bangs. "�this is a bruise."
Sam examined her forehead. She did have a small lump. "I guess I really do have a hard head. I've certainly been accused of it often enough," he said ruefully. "You wait here�I'll get your things for you."
Sam stood up and retrieved Josie's book bag from the floor, along with his briefcase. "Good Lord, Josie�what do you have in here, rocks?"
Josie smiled innocently. "Just the basics for survival. Laptop�computer organizer�mini cassette recorder�not to mention books�notebooks�CD's�makeup case�portable CD player�"
"The basics, huh? I seem to have made it through high school just fine without all that. I can't believe you lug this around with you."
"I don't always have the laptop with me, but I wanted to put some finishing touches on my essay on As You Like It during study hall."
"I can't wait to read it. I'm sure it will be insightful, as always. You have an amazing ability to convey your feelings in your writing�to touch your reader's heart."
"Coming from you�from a fellow writer�that mean's a lot."
"How did you know?" Sam asked, surprised at her perceptiveness.
"That you're a writer? No one could love language and words as much as you do and not be. Besides, I've heard you tell your stories in class�you weave them so adeptly that your students have no idea that they're actually learning about Shakespeare. You couldn't do that if you weren't a writer."
"I'll consider that a compliment. I'm nowhere near your league, though."
Josie smiled and glanced at her watch. She was late for a meeting with Gus. "I'm late!"
Sam reached out a hand to help her to her feet. "It was nice bumping into you, Josie," he teased.
Josie giggled and rubbed her forehead. "Same here."
* * *
April 27, 1999
I am not looking forward to Lara's visit. I'm afraid I'll fall back into that old, familiar pattern with her. We need to sit down and talk, seriously, about the future of our relationship�if there even is a future, that is.I find my thoughts drifting to Josie more and more frequently. I can't help but compare them�and Lara always seems to come up lacking. It's a dangerous comparison to allow myself�I have to remind myself that Josie is off limits.
Somehow, though, she seems to know me�to understand who I truly am. I never said a word about my writing�but she knew. Sensed that putting words to paper is as essential to me as breathing. Lara doesn't even know I keep a journal�and she wouldn't care.
But Josie� In her I recognize a twin soul�and it scares the hell out of me!
* * *