The wind brushed against the back of her neck left behind by her beanie. It was a cold September morning, and high above birds whizzed past as leaves tripped against the wet street. Alone on a bench sat Kay, tucked underneath her black puffer jacket staring at a run down blue truck across the street. Seven years had passed since the last time she had seen it, yet still it had that same rusty dent on the right of its bumper.
Slung around her shoulder was the tote bag she made at summer camp when she was eleven. She held it close, securely to her chest as if at any moment it would fly away never to be seen again.
Behind the truck was Henry’s, a local general store. Kay had gone there maybe four or five times. Each time with Sam. He loved the store. It had all kinds of knickknacks and fidget toys that made no sense to Kay. Nonetheless, he couldn’t leave without buying one.
4 Years Earlier
A gloomy Kay tapped on the door of her academic advisor’s office and requested to speak with him. It was an awful morning. Her fingers mindlessly combed her shadowy blonde hair, something she only did when she was anxious. The beginning of a new semester always filled her heart with that icky feeling.
“You should be proud! You have sixty credits, a 4.0 GPA. What is it that holds you back?”
“I uh—” she gulped, “I don’t know what I want.”
Kay’s leg shook beneath her notebook, the one she had for years with the drawing of a small bunny with bubbly eyes. Now she regretted the email she sent to her counselor. After an excruciating break filled with thoughts about her future, that was the best she could give him. She shouldn’t have been disappointed though. If growing up taught her one thing, it was that whatever feelings she truly had were always going to remain buried.
“Out of college?” he asked, scratching his patchy orange beard. He was wearing a blue, plaid shirt that did not mix well with his skin tone.
“Out of college, out of life. I have no major. I have no idea what I want to be.” Kay’s eyes refused to hold his gaze longer than a half second, always finding their way back to her lap at her notebook. At that moment she wanted to go home and cry and swaddle herself in the safety of her covers. Today was different than most first days. She was tired—not because it was morning. Her first class of the afternoon, and of the new semester, was an introductory creative writing class. It caught her eye on the course catalogue, mostly because of how easy it seemed. Just writing, but for fun, she thought. Usually, she chose a seat in the middle rows, not too visible, yet still engaged, but this time she didn’t want to be seen at all. Her bones were jelly, her mind spiraled, her neck itched, she just wanted to make it through the day.
The class was a blur, despite it dragging like a kid towing his nasty blanket everywhere with no destination in mind. Computer tucked in her tote bag, she began to leave her seat when the slight glimpse of a boy caused her to do a double take. He was scribbling something in his notebook, earbud in one ear, tongue pressed against the top of his lip as his shiny brown hair hung off his head like a wet paintbrush.
He was so fixated on whatever he was doing that even Kay wanted to catch a glimpse. She could see now that he was writing something, no way it was all notes, it was the first day. He shut his book and got up to leave, scanning the classroom as he did, locking eyes with Kay, who pretended to fiddle with her tote bag as if her eyes just wandered over to him. She lowered her head to her bag to sell the act.
“What’s up?” He smirked warmly at her, his pale cheeks lifting as he did.
Kay looked at him blankly, baffled at how cute his smile looked, and said the first words that came to her. “The ceiling, the sky.”
He frowned and rolled his eyes. She turned and left, a small smile forming on her soft lips, and for a moment the worry she began the day with was replaced by the sight of that brown haired boy and his quirky smile that stole her gaze.
Their conversation would continue over the days that followed. Kay, responding with her witty, smart ass remarks, and he, whose name she learned was Sam, teasing her for it with what she called his “I-think-I’m-being-so-sly” grin. When she finally brought up the question of what he was writing in his notebook, which seemed to always captivate him during class, he didn’t respond. Instead he deflected the question back at her and asked what was on her bag. She covered the front with her hand. Her cheeks grew warm. He cocked his head to one side.
“A drawing,” said Kay, avoiding his gaze as her hand traced the ink left by fabric markers long ago.
“Can you show me it?”
She paused, deciding what to do. Well she tried, anyway. Her mind was spiraling over the thought of subjecting Sam’s perfect hazel eyes to her sloppy and very personal artwork. So she declined and turned away from him in embarrassment. The burning thought of Sam thinking she was weird filled her heart. Then she wondered why she wondered what Sam thought of her.
It was awkward in class the next few days. Until the following Friday, when Sam tapped her on the shoulder and presented her with an open notebook filled with writings and notes.
“I like to write stuff down.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I like to imagine worlds and characters. Like futuristic science fiction worlds.”
His breath was unsteady. Clearly he was nervous. He smiled and nodded.
“It’s a sun,” she exhaled. She turned her bag to him and revealed the hand drawn sun printed on to her tote bag. It wore a goofy, animated face surrounded by different shades of bright orange while being dissolved in yellow. He gave her his grin.
“Aw, that’s so cool!” He leaned in closer to get a better look. Then his eyes met hers, and for a moment that felt like forever, they simply smiled at one another, her heart melting under the comfort of his gaze.
#
A few weeks later as autumn began to settle and the leaves began to fall, Kay and Sam walked side by side as they left the college library and prepared to take off for the day. They had been studying, for probably only ten minutes, when Sam decided they needed to take a break so he could show Kay an idea he had for his latest science fiction plot. Kay tried to listen to what he said, but she kept getting distracted by his animated reactions to his own ideas, like a kid unwrapping his presents for the first time, except the kid was the one that wrapped them. The sight of his eyes gleaming with childish excitement made her heart giddy.
“How do you do it?” Kay wondered.
“Do what?” Sam looked at her curiously. He was taller than her, not too much taller to where Kay felt she could kiss him without fully lifting her toes.
“Write and come up with worlds and stories.” She waved her hand up like she was swatting away a fly.
“Your rough draft was good! What are you talking about!”
She gave him a look. They had to submit their short stories next Friday and Kay was less than satisfied with hers.
“Oh yeah, sure, the story of a girl exploring the mystical caves behind her house is so interesting,” she said dryly. “My writing is nothing compared to yours. I have no idea where it’s even going to go after the part in the cave.”
“You just need that spark. Surround your story with something internal. Something that matters to you. That way the writing comes out smoothly, naturally, and before you know it you have pages of something that feels like a part of you.”
Kay stopped. She had been refusing to resume the conversation with her advisor. Being neck deep into the semester made it easy to avoid things like that. Classes, assignments, her job at Michael’s, not to mention her parents, buried thoughts about the future. And Sam. He made it extremely difficult.
Kay rarely spoke about herself to Sam. Whenever she did, she would limit it to things that she wanted him to know, such as her obsession with Stranger Things or her love for her pin collection—her favorite being the one with the cute cartoon fox saying the word “sly.”
It took Sam a few paces before realizing she was no longer beside him. He looked back at her, the light of the melting sun reflecting off his tan skin.
“You okay?”
Kay wanted to answer him honestly. Wanted to tell him she wasn’t okay, that she was struggling with herself and needed help. He looked so perfect in that moment that for a second she almost let her guard down. Almost.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
#
In November, a few weeks after their conversation, Sam’s flushed face asked Kay to go with him to the movies, which she agreed, a little too enthusiastically she decided. He was naturally shy, speaking barely in class unless it was time for workshopping, which then he would naturally turn to Kay and begin discussing his story. Kay started sitting by him a few weeks after they met. It was a courageous move for her, but she tried to play it off as if it were no big deal.
“We talk a lot, might as well sit here,” she had said.
Sam left it up to her to pick the movie, which Kay, who could never decide what she wanted to eat, decided to pick the first one she had heard of. The pair met inside, Kay wearing a smooth black skirt with a red sweater tucked into her waist and a beanie on her head, Sam simply wearing a plain blue hoodie and a pair of jeans. She could see his hazel eyes widen as he complimented her outfit.
After the showing, they sat outside on a bench, eating some chocolate chip cookies they bought at the bakery behind them.
“Have you ever been to that store?”
She swallowed the bits of cookie in her mouth and followed his gaze to a quaint looking store definitely in need of renovation.
“Henry’s? No I have not.”
“What! You haven’t lived until you’ve been to Henry’s!” he said in dramatic disbelief.
Kay nearly choked on her cookie when he said that. She put her hand to her mouth to keep the crumbs from falling out.
“I guess I’m dead then.”
The chime of a brass bell glowing under the light of the sconces decorating the walls announced their entrance into the store. Every now and then, the glossy wooden steps would screech under the weight of Kay’s sneakers as she followed Sam around the store. Stuffed on shelves were ornaments, cheesy postcards, knockoff toys, figurines of anime characters, useless crafts that would likely end up forgotten once you were done with them. Sam led her to a part of the store near the back, where he presented her with a shelf filled with drawing paper, colored pencils, micron pens—all kinds of art supplies.
“Sam…” Her voice trailed, defeated by how thoughtful this all was. She felt her cheeks turn red.
He grinned, more out of embarrassment than his usual slyness. He then grabbed something off the shelf and presented it to her.
“Can I buy you this?”
It was a 32 pack of fabric markers.
“So maybe you could draw some more on your tote bag? Or get a new one or whatever?” said Sam.
With a tint of sadness in her eyes, Kay looked at him, her lips pressed together in a slight frown.
“That’s the sweetest thing ever,” she managed to say. But she felt like it wasn’t enough.
His grin became a comfortable smile. “You know why I love this store?”
“Why?” she said softly.
“There are just so many wacky things here. Some of this stuff probably is useless. But you know what? It’s filled with all kinds of ideas. Cool things people thought about, maybe not that hard, but an idea came to them and they put pen to paper. You’re an amazing artist Kay, I hope I see your artwork in a gallery or something.”
Kay’s world began to water as the dams that held back tears started to overflow. He deserved something. Even if she still refused to pour her entire heart out to him, he deserved to know something.
“Sam …”
He bit his lip. She explained to him how her parents were planning to move away at the end of the semester, and she was planning to go with them. States away. To Texas. Kay’s decision was born out of a fear of uncertainty, of the possibility of failure. She apologized to him as sincerely as she could, even if it felt like it would never be enough.
Sam stood there, silent, for what felt like forever. Then a grin. His grin.
“So…is that a yes on the markers?”
For the remaining month they had together, they continued seeing each other, going on dates to more movies, or walking and talking about whatever random topics jumped into their heads, sometimes they would sit in his truck, Kay’s head resting on his shoulder, their hearts entangled in a silent snow globe while their town went about their lives as if they had everything figured out and nothing to figure out.
#
Kay pulled her jacket close. It was starting to get too cold to be outside. Her hand dipped inside of her tote bag and brushed the pages of her manuscript. She wished Sam could have seen it sooner. Nonetheless, here she was now, seven years after moving to Texas.
Although they tried their best to keep in touch, their contact would gradually fade, and he would never know how much his ephemeral presence reverberated through Kay. How much she needed him at that moment in her life.
She rose to her feet, paused, then smiled. Through the windows of Henry’s she could see Sam as he embraced his wife and son. She could hardly wait to show them her drawings.