Editor's Note: This storyline is for those romantics that believe soulmates will find each other no matter the circumstance. Therefore, this author follows the premise that Josie does NOT get to keep her undercover assignment at the high school, and instead meets Sam another way, and their relationship develops from there. Please, give this idea a chance! I assure you that before the end of this installment, you will be hooked! -- Ed.
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Josie Geller set her bag on her desk and sighed as several pencils rolled off onto the floor. She got down on her hands and knees to retrieve them. "Geller," came Gus' familiar voice from her doorway.
"What is it, Gus?" she asked, peering over the top of her desk.
"We need to talk." While he shut the office door, Josie rose from the floor and sat in her chair. She noticed that her daily tear-off calender, "Forgotten English," was still on yesterday's word.
"I know I gave some of today's articles to Patrick," she began as she tore off the page. "But I'm so busy getting things ready."
"That's what I came to tell you. There's been a change of plans."
Josie swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"
"Rigfort decided to send Lydia to South Glen."
Before Josie could reply, a knock on the door startled them both. Josie cleared her throat and managed to say, "C-come in."
Anita appeared in the doorway wearing a red miniskirt and a silk blouse with a plunging neckline. "You told her already." It was more of a statement than a question.
"I don't understand," Josie murmured. "Did I do something wrong?"
Gus shook his head. "The problem, Josie, is that you haven't done anything. Rigfort wanted someone with more experience."
"Oh." Josie noticed an old piece of tape stuck to her desktop and began to scrape it off with her fingernail.
"But I have some good news for you, too. I'm giving you another story."
"You are?" asked Josie and Anita simultaneously.
Gus shrugged. "Well, it's not as big . . . actually, I'm not sure you'll even want it, Geller."
"What is it?"
"We need a short piece on South Glen's annual Shakespeare Festival."
"A Shakespeare Festival?" Anita repeated with a grimace.
"How short?" asked Josie.
Gus held up his thumb and forefinger about three inches apart. "This short." Josie sighed and slumped in her chair. "Look, I understand if you don't want it, but I thought maybe if you got a few assignments under your belt . . ."
"I do want it," Josie interrupted.
"All right." Gus reached into his pocket and handed her a yellow slip of paper torn from a legal pad. "This is the guy in charge of the whole thing. He'll tell you what you need to know."
Josie glanced down at the paper, which read "Sam Coulson 555-6407."
"Well," said Gus, rising from his chair, "I'll let you get to work." He was almost out of the door when he turned and asked, "Oh, which stories did you give to Patrick?"
Josie blushed. "All of them. Gus?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you."
Gus nodded and said nothing. When he was gone, Anita came up to Josie and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Josie."
"It's okay," Josie shrugged. "Highschool was a disaster for me anyway. I sure don't want to go through it again." She taped the scrap of paper to her phone.
"Look, I'll meet you for lunch." Anita gave Josie's shoulder a squeeze, then left her office.
Josie leaned forward and rested her head on the desk. Her disappointment was almost suffocating. She did feel thankful to Gus for giving her another story, however small and insignificant it may be. With that thought in mind, she sat up straight, picked up the phone, and dialed the number. She glanced up at the clock. 8:00. If Sam Coulson was a teacher, he should be in his office.
The phone rang twice, then a pleasant male voice greeted her. "Sam Coulson."
"Good morning, Mr. Coulson. This is Josie Geller, with the Sun-Times."
"Oh, hi . . . I guess you're calling about the Festival?"
"Yes. I need to know where I'm going and when." Josie untwisted a paperclip and twirled it around her fingers.
"Right. It begins this afternoon at four, and it's in South Glen's auditorium. Tell you what - I'll be waiting at the door for you."
"Okay, great. Thank you, Mr. Coulson."
"Please, call me Sam." "All right, and I'm Josie." She smiled and tried to bend the paperclip back into shape. "I'll see you this afternoon, Sam."
* * *
Josie buttoned her yellow knit cardigan and stepped out of her car. After getting completely lost, she was twenty minutes late. She could see someone standing at the door, and as she came closer, he became more clear. He had a trim, athletic build and blond hair. His back was to her.
"E-excuse me," she stammered. "Are you . . ."
He turned around and she found herself looking into a young, very handsome face with warm eyes and a sexy smile. "Hi! I'm Sam Coulson."
Josie returned his smile and extended her hand. "Josie Geller." He shook her hand with a firm but gentle grip. Josie blushed suddenly - both from his handshake and from the realization of how late she was. "I can't believe you're still out here waiting for me."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I figured you got lost. There are a few tricky turns to South Glen. Besides," he continued with a grin, "sometimes I'm late, and I know exactly where I'm going."
Josie laughed. He was charming, and she was getting more flustered by the minute. "Okay . . . well. Why don't you tell me about this before we go in?"
"Getting down to business, huh? All right. I've been working at South Glen since I left Dartmouth five years ago. I started the Festival my second year. I meant it to be a voluntary thing, but some of the English teachers grade students on their projects. Some design Elizabethan costumes, some write sonnets or plays, some film themselves performing scenes . . . pretty much anything goes."
"I love the idea," said Josie. "So is it a contest? Who judges it?"
"Actually, I judge it," he replied with another grin. Suddenly his eyes widened and he smiled even more broadly. "What do you know about Shakespeare, Josie?"
"Well, I'm not Harold Bloom, but I'm not exactly ignorant on the subject."
"Why don't you judge our Festival this year?"
Josie blushed. "Oh, I really couldn't."
Sam put his hand at the small of her back to guide her into the door. "Come on. I'll be with you the whole time." Josie ordered her heart to quit pounding.
The auditorium was huge, with students milling around everywhere. A few projects were set up on backboards, like a science fair. Long, ornate Elizabethan dresses hung from hooks on the walls. TV's were set up here and there to show the videotaped projects.
"This will be a hard decision," she commented to Sam.
"You see why I need your help. So, what's your favorite play?"
"Twelfth Night," Josie replied without hesitation.
"You're kidding."
"No . . . why?"
"'Some men have greatness thrust upon them,'" Sam quoted.
"'She sat like patience on a monument,'" Josie countered.
Sam grinned. "'If music be the food of love, play on.'"
Josie laughed, wondering if it was possible for her heart to beat any faster. "I guess you like the play."
"It's my favorite too. Okay. Now which one can you just not stand?"
"This will sound ignorant, but I absolutely hate Hamlet. He drives me crazy!"
Sam laughed. "Don't ever say that around my girlfriend." He leaned closer to her. "Tell you a secret, though. I can't stand him either. Okay, pop quiz! Most misquoted line in Hamlet."
"'Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him . . . Horatio.'"
"Very good," he smiled. "I'm impressed. Well, we better get started, or we'll be here all night." They approached the first table. Someone had recreated a playbill for Romeo and Juliet.
"Hmmm," Josie mused. "It's very well done, but I'm sure it isn't the best." Sam started laughing. "What?"
He pointed down to the paper. "She used modern spellings."
The next project prompted a laugh from both of them. Someone had used Barbie and Ken dolls to recreate a scene from Midsummer Night's Dream.
"I never knew Helena was from Malibu," Sam whispered. Josie burst into giggles.
It took them three hours to look at every project, and the students had left long ago. They awarded first place to a collection of sonnets written by a girl named, of all things, Aldys. Second place went to a videotaped reenactment of a scene from As You Like It. "That's the play I'm starting in my class on Monday," Sam remarked. Third place went to one of the costume designs.
"Well, what are you going to write about all this?" Sam asked as he walked her out to her car.
"I don't know yet."
"Maybe I can lend a hand. You met a charming, underpaid highschool English teacher . . ."
"Ha ha ha." She reached her car and turned the key in the lock.
"Look, it was really nice to meet you, Josie Geller." He offered his hand for another shake, and Josie wasn't about to refuse to take it.
"Same here."
"Well . . . I guess I'll see you around."
"Yeah." Josie got into her car and Sam shut the door for her. As she drove away, she watched him in her rearview mirror. She was completely taken with him, but she had caught the word "girlfriend."
* * *
Sam Coulson unlocked his office, closed the door behind him, and collapsed in his chair. He could hear the janitors laughing out in the hall, and knew that they would be locking the building soon. The only clear image in his head was Josie Geller.
She was dorky, but in an endearing - he would go so far as to say sexy - way. Her brown hair was pulled up in a no-nonsense style. Her outfit was conservative to the point of being prudish, yet at the same time, it was eccentric. He liked her.
Noticing that the light on his answering machine was flashing, Sam pressed the "play" button.
"Hi, Sweetie," came Laura's familiar voice. "My firm's sending me to Chicago in a couple of weeks . . . I'll call you another time when I find out more. I can't wait to see you again. Love you! Bye."
Sam leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. He couldn't - wouldn't - cheat on his girlfriend Her message served to remind him that Josie Geller was off-limits.
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