7. Annie

ANNIE

July 2014 - Annie is 18, Sam is 20

I slip out of the house quietly. Noah has moved back home over the summer to save money. He's been living in an apartment in Greeley with Sam while he's been doing school online. Though Sam seems to be out of the state more than he's in it these days. But I saw Sam's truck at his parent's house last night. It's still there this morning and I can't wait to tell him the good news. I haven't told anyone yet, not even Emily. I want him to know first.

The morning sun is shining as I slip around to the back of his house. His dad left for work an hour ago and I know his mom is probably getting his sisters ready and out the door for whatever fun summer activity she has planned—that woman knows how to stay busy. I quietly rap on the window of his room. A minute later, the blinds slide up, revealing Sam and his messy morning hair. He's groggy, but grins at the sight of me as he slides open the window.

"Hey, sunshine. A little early isn't it?" He yawns and I help him pop out the screen so I can climb inside.

"Yeah, I just couldn't sleep," I tell him as I enter his bedroom. Since he's been traveling a lot, I haven't been here in a while, but it feels like stepping back in time. His blue comforter that he's had for years is rumpled on the bed. The only thing that's changed is that there are more pictures of me, Sam, and Noah on the walls. None of us expected Sam's parents to stay in Kersey as long as they have, but apparently, they decided it was a good place to settle after years of moving from place to place. Sam might be Noah's friend—his best friend—but we have had this almost secret friendship all the years he's been here. I spent many summer days and afternoons after school in this room.

The queen bed takes up most of the room and I crawl onto it as he shuts the window. He lays down beside me, but I'm sitting because I'm too wired to relax.

"What's up, sunshine?" he asks quietly. He doesn't reach for me, not that I expect him to, but there's a part of me that wishes he would. I know he had a girlfriend for most of this past year, a lady who traveled with him on some of his adventures for his vlog. I wasn't able to watch those videos because it's weird to see him with anyone else—it feels like he's mine, even if he isn't actually mine. Not like that. He's never told me his feelings, and when he started dating someone else, it hurt that he'd moved on, even though we're just friends. But we still text nearly every day and talk on the phone about once a week.

This news deserves to be told in person. "I got in!"

He sits up, grinning at me. "I knew you would! New York City here we come!" He holds out his hand to give me a high five which I gladly give him. His fingers wrap around mine though and I don't pull away. We're awkwardly holding hands, but I don't question it or let myself think about it.

"I wasn"t sure I would. I also got accepted for a partial scholarship, so I'll still need to find a place to live and a job to help cover the rest of my expenses, but I'm going to culinary school." Saying the words out loud feels surreal. I got into my dream culinary school. I'm getting out of Colorado. I'm going to make the life I want for myself, whether my mom approves or not.

"You'll figure it out." He squeezes my hand. "And I could make my homebase New York City. We could get an apartment…" he trails off as his eyes meet mine. I feel like he's looking into my soul. He blinks and looks away. "As friends, I mean."

I nod. I knew what he meant. Sam knows I don't do relationships. I don't do one-night stands or dates. It's just easier to avoid it all rather than follow in the footsteps of my mother.

"You don't have to uproot your whole life for me." I give him a sad sort of smile. I've known Sam for four years now, but it feels as though I've known him my whole life. I've always known that at some point we'll have to say goodbye. At some point, I'll need to let him go so he can find someone who wants to settle down because I know that he wants the picket fence, to grow old with someone, and a life with lots of kids, and I can"t give him that. I've been guarding my heart from completely falling for him because I can't give him what he wants. I also know it would be so easy to let myself love Sam, to let myself feel all the feelings I keep locked away. But, I can't. It wouldn't be fair to either of us.

He looks at me as if what I've just said was the stupidest thing in the world. "I travel over six months of the year, you'd have the apartment mostly to yourself unless Noah comes too."

"We both know he will." I hold back the urge to roll my eyes. I love my brother, but his constant need to take care of me is getting old. I'm eighteen now, at some point he has to let me spread my wings and stop trying to be a father figure to me. He has to stop trying to protect me from Mom. I can leave now.

Sam laughs. "He probably will. I mean, I bet as soon as he finds out you got in he'll suggest that we move out there too, without it being ‘because of you' so that he can keep an eye on you."

"I wish he didn't have to come." I say the words and immediately regret them as I watch Sam's eyes widen. It's not fair for me to do this, to keep him so close, close enough but never touching. Always just out of reach. But I can't let myself let him go. He's mine and that's selfish of me to keep him. But I promise myself that I'll let him go in a year, I'll have to. He's already twenty. He has his whole life ahead of him, and I shouldn't keep him so close to me when I know nothing will ever come out of it.

"Me too," he says softly. I wait for it to come, his confession of feelings, but like always, he is consistent and doesn't say anything. "Where is the school again?" he asks me as he grabs his laptop. "I can start looking at apartments."

"You'll do this with me?" I ask him and Sam looks at me as if to say, duh, I'd follow you anywhere. And my heart feels heavy because, of course, that's his reaction. "Okay," I say and then I squeal a little. "We're going to New York!"

He gives me that smile that"s all mine. "We're going to New York, sunshine."