More Than a Story: Part 5~Ali Cummings

More than a Story
Part 5

Megan.
Happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!
I just want you to know that I’m really happy that I’ve known you for 3 years (in February, right?) It seems like forever!
But the real reason that I’m writing a whole note this year is because I just don’t feel like waiting until I’m 18. (Patience has never been one of my strong points, as Sara always says.) I just want you to know that I really really like you, and that maybe we could do something sometime. (Like you said, it sounds lame!) But I want you to know that. You’re really awesome, and I’m so blessed to have you as a great friend.
sam.
ps- here’s your gift in the blue paper......it took me a while to come up with it, but I’m sure it’s perfect!
Something inside of me broke again. I reread the note three times, but this time dwelling on the last two paragraphs. He had liked me. And I hated it at that moment.
I set the note in front of me and picked up the small, blue paper. It had a single piece of tape wrapped around it, holding it all together. I smiled when I saw that. Sam’s answer for everything had always been tape, of the Duct variety.
I carefully peeled the tape away and let the paper fall open a bit. I saw something glimmer as it fell out of the wrapping, and it caught my attention, because when I looked down, I gasped and picked it up. For a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. And then I began to believe that this was actually what Sam had gotten for me.
It was a white ring. Only it had a teeny but remarkably detailed horse on it. Mane flowing out behind it, neck bent forward slightly, it was galloping against the wind. It was pure white, and my thoughts drifted back to that cold Sunday night at the pavilion . . . "It’ll be white, cause white goes with everything, and you said that the white ones were your favorite . . ." . . . Everything made sense now. Suddenly the truth of it hit me like lightning.
He gave me a ring!!!!!!!
I suddenly let out a particularly loud squeal of delight and danced in a circle around the room. I then scooped up my cell phone and began to dial Sam’s number, telling myself that I’d call and say that I loved the gift, and that I wanted more than anything to get together sometime . . .
And then it smacked me in the face again.
Sam wasn’t going to come to the phone. Sam was dead.
The complete unfairness of it overwhelmed me. I sat down, defeated, on my bed and closed my phone.
It was the most unjust thing in the world. The one guy I had liked. It had to be him! Why couldn’t he have just lived?!
~ ** ~ * ~ * ~ ** ~
The following Sunday I tried my hardest not to lose my head completely. Lindsay wanted to know what the note said, and I told her word for word, only because I had read it over and over again on the night of my birthday since I couldn’t sleep. As I told her, I fingered the glistening white ring on my finger, trying once again to keep it together.
She reacted differently than I thought she might. Instead of gushing over all the ways that it was so romantic, she gave me a hug and told me to get some sleep tonight.
"And remember, Meg! Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve!" She called to me when we were leaving.
Something hit me. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve? No, it couldn’t be. There was no way . . .
~ ** ~ * ~ * ~ ** ~
But there was a way, and indeed, Tuesday morning Hannah jumped on me and rolled me by force out of bed. I wanted to yell at her for waking me up in the middle of another dream, which, I concluded, was the last place on earth that I could ever again meet up with Sam.
We opened presents. It was fun, and Hannah and Renee tried their best and more to make the day special for me. I didn’t want to ruin anything by being depressed. I felt like maybe I was finally at peace about my friend’s death. When I closed my eyes, I could even picture that beautiful face smiling like the sun its self up in Heaven, lighting up the Christmas Morning sky that I was looking out the window at right now, just for me to enjoy. A Christmas present: To me, from Sam. And this Christmas Morning, he was probably treating himself to a leisurely ride on a skateboard down golden streets. Maybe he was overseeing the building of my mansion, helping God lift the golden rays that made up the walls. I closed my eyes and smiled just thinking about it. Sure, Sam was gone, but life goes on. I just had to understand that from now . . . till the day that I die. I closed my eyes and said a prayer. A prayer that God would tell Sam that I loved him. And then I opened them again.
"Merry Christmas, Sam."

When I came to the end of the story, my eyes were swimming with tears. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to think what Tod was feeling now. I jumped when my cell phone rang beside me. I looked at the caller ID. It was Niki.
“Hey.” I said.
“Hi Ali.” She said. I could tell she had been crying.
“Niki, what’s wrong? What happened?” Her reply made me drop the phone onto my bed.
“No.” I whispered. Tod was dead.