* * *
"Oh Sam," Josie cooed, slipping her arms around his neck, "I love you so much."
As Sam leaned in for what he knew would be a soft, warm, utterly wonderful and amazing kiss, a ringing sound interrupted the moment.
Sam opened one eye. He wasn't on a beach in paradise with Josie; he was in his bedroom, in bed. The shades were drawn, seemingly blocking out the night sky, while the alarm clock on the bedside table betrayed the real time: 5:07 PM.
The ringing continued. It took Sam a second to realize it was his phone. He rolled out of bed and padded into the living room. He picked up the cordless phone.
"Hello?" he said, his voice thick with sleep.
"You were asleep?" It was his sister, Abby.
"Yes."
"For the entire weekend?"
Sam sank onto his sofa. "I wish."
"I know about the prom," Abby said. "Josh saw it in the paper. He mentioned it when I talked to him last night. You know, Sam, you had me pretty worried when I couldn't reach you."
Sam was too preoccupied to hear all of what Abby had said; he only reacted to her last sentence. "Sorry, Mom."
"Very funny. That's what every girl likes to hear."
"Abby, no offense, but I really do not feel like talking right now. Sorry I missed our regular Saturday night phone call. You can call me next week in New York."
"What!?" Abby asked, verbally underlining and italicizing the word.
"You heard me. I'm packing my stuff and going to New York."
"When?"
"I'm calling the movers as soon as we hang up."
Abby was silent. Then she said something she'd said to her other brothers several times, but had never before said to Sam. "Are you insane!?"
"She made a fool out of me, Abby. I trusted her. Christ, I actually thought I was in love with her! I put my career at risk because of her. She tortured me, and every word was a lie. She was setting me up for a story. I fell for it. How could I have been so stupid?"
"I'm assuming that's a rhetorical question."
Sam sat up. "Listen, Abby, I don't have time for your jokes. I have to get to packing." He pushed the "off" button without saying goodbye, then unplugged the phone.
Settling back on the couch, Sam rubbed his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, and found his mind drifting back to Josie.
"Damn it!" he exclaimed, leaping up in disgust. He began pacing the floor.
His living room was filled with empty boxes Sam's new neighbors, the Perlmans, had given him.
"We don't need them anymore, son," Mr. Perlman said as Sam carried them into his apartment.
"I do," Sam muttered to himself, glancing around his living room. Well, he thought, better get to work.
An hour and a half later, nearly every possession of Sam's was contained in cardboard. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam spied a shelf he had yet to tackle: the one with his hockey trophies on it.
Sam began removing them from the shelf and setting them in a box. As they clanked together, Sam winced. He didn't want them to get scratched. The box of old newspapers was empty, however. Sam opened his front door.
On the mat was a fresh Chicago Sun Times. Sam sat in his armchair and proceeded to wrap his trophies and carefully place them in another box.
There was a knock on the door. "Movers," a male voice called.
Sam looked up. Had he called any movers? He couldn't remember. Curious, he rose and opened the door. Two tall men rushed into the room.
"Is your phone off the hook?" the younger one asked.
"What are you guys doing here?" Sam demanded. The last thing he needed was a visit from his brothers, Josh and Russ.
The two brothers looked at each other.
"I told you," Russ said. "He doesn't know."
"He could know, and just not care," Josh argued.
Sam held up his hands. "Know what?"
Russ poked Josh in the side. "See?"
Josh smacked Russ' hand away. "Where's your newspaper?" he asked Sam.
Sam gestured to his boxes. "I needed it to wrap, why?"
Russ sighed and began digging through the boxes, unwrapping various items.
"What are you doing?" Sam exclaimed, attempting to wrestle a box away from Russ.
"Ah ha!" Russ shoved a rumpled section of newspaper at Sam. "Read that," he ordered.
Sam looked at the headline. Never Been Kissed. There were several pictures of Josie in the article. Shocked, he began to read.
Beside him, Russ was tapping his foot impatiently. He glanced at his watch. He sighed.
"You can read it in the car," Russ announced suddenly. He grabbed Sam's arm.
"What? Wait!" Sam stuttered, flustered.
Josh spoke over Sam's shoulder. "Skip to the end, Sam. Read the last paragraph."
Sam turned and looked at his brother. Josh nodded toward the paper in Sam's hands. Sam returned his attention to the article, skipping to the final paragraph. As he read Josie's words, her admission of love, his heart leapt. To think, if Josh and Russ hadn't shown up�
Sam could imagine how he would have felt if, while unpacking in New York, he found and read the article too late.
Too late...
Panicked, Sam asked his brothers, "What time is it?"
"Time to go," Russ insisted. He ran to Sam's bedroom and returned with a shirt and pair of pants. "You can change in the backseat." He began to drag Sam out of the apartment.
Josh followed, clapping Sam on the back. "You're a lucky man, Sam."
Sam smiled. I sure am.
* * *