Free Sharing Sam by Katherine Applegate

this Hallmark schmaltz,” Izzy commented at lunch. She sighed. “So how come nobody sends me anything?”
    “Maybe because you hate all this Hallmark schmaltz.”
    Izzy grinned. She was wearing a Marlins baseball cap that day. I thought she looked a little paler than usual.
    “I’m getting some more juice. Want some?” I asked.
    Izzy shook her head. “You know, the Valentine’s Day danceis tomorrow. Remember how I was going to ask Sam? Whatever happened to that?”
    I stood and grabbed my wallet.
Say it, Alison
.
    “I guess I lost my nerve,” Izzy continued. “Do you think he was flirting with me at the party? Or was that just pity? He borrowed my French notes yesterday, did I tell you? Talk about the blind leading the blind. He’s missed more school than I have. I wonder what the deal is?”
    “Be right back,” I said, retreating.
    Tell her, you idiot, tell her
, I scolded myself. Standing there in the stewed-cabbage stench of the lunchroom, it all seemed so obvious. I may have had good intentions originally, but now those good intentions were just going to make things a whole lot worse.
    I paid for my cranberry juice and was making my way back down the aisle when I noticed Sam. Sam’s back, actually. He was standing at the carnation table, bent over, writing on one of the little cards they attached to the flowers. Next to him stood Steve, Izzy’s physics partner, all earnest concentration.
    For me?
I thought for a split second, then,
Please, no
. That wasn’t how I wanted Izzy to find out.
    I rejoined Izzy. She was checking her reflection in a knife. “Is it just me, or do I have a little bit of a Morticia thing going here with the white face?”
    “Pinch your cheeks,” I advised.
    “Check it out.” Izzy nudged me. “Sam and Steve at the flower table, did you see?”
    I glanced over my shoulder and shrugged, nicely indifferent.
    “I briefly entertained the notion that Sam was buying something for me, but I don’t think conjugating
aller
makes for a real commitment. Do you?”
    “You never know. Aren’t you going to eat your cake?”
    “Not hungry. Steve’s there, too. He’s probably buying my traditional white carnation. We send each other one every year so we don’t feel left out.”
    “Maybe there’s more to Steve than meets the eye,” I suggested.
    “Steve? No way. We’re just good buds, you know that.”
    “You sure? He has a pet name for you.”
    “Dumbo is not a pet name. It’s a term of ridicule.”
    “Still—”
    “Nah. I’ve tried to look at him that way, but I can tell it would be like NutraSweet love. You know—you convince yourself it’s okay, then there’s this weird aftertaste.” She nodded toward the carnation table. “Now, with Sam over there, it’s a different story. Look out, he’s coming.”
    “Who?” I asked, knowing.
    “Sam the man.” She turned and waved.
    Sam smiled as he approached, a nice, generic, collective smile that encompassed us both. He handed Izzy a gray notebook.
    “Thanks,” he said. “You saved my butt.”
    “I can’t think of a butt I’d rather … Oh, never mind,” Izzy said with laugh. “I just can’t pull off the Mae-West-meets-Madonna thing.” She pulled back a chair. “Join us?”
    “I’ve gotta get going,” I said quickly, standing. It was way too easy to imagine where this conversation could lead. “I’ve got to clean out my locker.”
    “Me too,” Sam said.
    “What? Are we having an inspection?” Izzy asked.
    “No, I meant I have to go,” Sam said. “As in off campus.”
    “Cutting class again?” Izzy chided.
    “I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I’ve already had a nice heart-to-heart with Lutz about my unexcused absences.”
    “Well,” I said. “Gotta go.”
    “I’ll walk out with you,” Sam offered.
    “Give me a sec, I’ll come too,” Izzy said.
    “No,” I said quickly. “When I said go, I meant, you know—go.” I pointed to the rest room in the corner.
    Izzy looked at Sam