The Thing About Samuel

Chapter Twenty-Five - Samuel

Samuel - June 2019

'When do you think you'll do it?' Billy's voice appeared next to Sam, cutting through his cloud of worry.
​'What?' Sam questioned.
​'Isla. The kiss.' Billy budged and grinned mischievously.
​They walked at the back of the group, as had become the norm, and Sam surveyed everyone before them, as if it were the first time his eyes had focussed since Joe left him  by the stream out of the back of the pub. Ahead of them were the parents, and then in front of them Arty walked with his headphones on, gently nodding his head to some kind of music, and then there was Isla, and Joe. They were laughing, and playfully pushing each other, and then Joe glanced back, and his face looked somewhat sterner. Isla then pushed him, and he broke into a smile directed her way. Sam forced a dry swallow.
​'Getting nervous, are you?' Billy pressed.
​'I'll figure something out.'
​Sam nodded at Billy, and then pushed his feet forward leaving a slightly guilty looking Billy behind him as he moved away.

Sam sat, angrily pulling a second pair of socks over the ones already on his feet and reached over for a second hooded jumper with a heavy hand.
​'You okay?' Arty asked as he too doubled up his clothing layers.
​'I'm fine, just cold outside isn't it?' Sam diverted the conversation away from himself.
​'Yeah. Freezing. Who suggested staying up with marshmallows and snacks, huh?' Arty half joked.
​'At least there's a fire,' Sam offered with a smile.
​'True. See you out there, Sam.'
​Arty left the tent, and Sam shuffled his way over to his bag. He glanced towards the entrance of the tent but only silence seemed to sit beyond the zipped netting. He slowly reached into his bag and felt around until the crunch of crinkled paper met his fingertips. Gently, he pulled the paper out of the bag and looked over the words one more time.
​Even now, his heart seemed to shudder, and a can of nerves burst open in his stomach. There was no secret. He had just chosen not to tell anyone a certain nugget of information about himself yet until he was sure that it was true. What happened with Joe had made him feel happy, for the briefest of seconds, before plummeting him into a chasm of fear.
​'Oh, hey...' Joe's face appeared in the doorway.
​'Hi.'
​He looked awkward. 'I'm just looking for my dad's coat. It's a dark black adidas one. Have you seen it?'
​Joe looked around the tent but didn't make eye contact with Sam, sending his heart into an escalating pace of deep thumps.
​'Joe... I'm-'
​'-I'll see you out here.' And Joe left. Sam let out a long sigh as he lowered himself onto his sleeping bag, the crinkled note hidden beneath his palm and resting against his chest – riding the swells of anxiety in his lungs.
​This was it. Everyone would find out. No doubt Isla already knew as Joe would have told her how Sam had kissed him behind the pub – but then, maybe she would have asked what they were talking about in the first place and Joe would have gotten shy.
​'Sam?' He heard his dad's voice call from somewhere nearby.
​'Coming!' Sam begrudgingly answered, wishing nothing more than to stay hidden inside his tent, wrapped up in his sleeping bag, and away from any speculation around the kiss between him and Joe.
​The inevitable countdown clock had been started. He now only had two options: either let Joe tell everyone what had happened, or he could tell his own secret. And then it came to him. There was another way. To perhaps delay what anyone would think if Joe did tell them what had happened by the stream. And Billy had handed him the perfect reason to do it. The kiss with Isla would satisfy Billy's dare, it would put at bay any rumour that he had kissed Joe, and it would confuse Joe enough that he might choose not to spread the secret any further.
​Sam sat up, a new determination bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He had very little time to make everything happen, but the sharing of marshmallows around the campfire was his only opportunity. He looked back to his bag and a corner of his mum's notebook was visible, the light from the hanging battery-lit torch on the roof of the tent glinting in the fading 'A' on the front.
​Sam sighed. It was almost as if his mum was still watching him, every time he flicked through the pages of the notebook he felt some connection back to her. In the last few pages of the notebook he had written everything he knew so far. About Isla, Joe, Arty. Billy. Tonight would mean he could write another entry into the book, but he had no idea what that would be right now.
​'Wish me luck, Mum.' He smiled, shakily, and then moved out of the tent.
​The air had dropped cooler now, and the sky was darker. At night, all the campsite had in terms of lighting were two low level lights at the entrance to the reception hut and shop in the carpark, and also a few of the same lights hanging around the façade of the shower block. There were a few other tents around the outskirts of the campsite, nestled between trees, or finding privacy in the what would be shaded areas behind large shrubs that sprang from the floor. But their group had formed a perimeter not far from the shower block, and in the centre of that now sat a large metal barrel, with flames climbing up into the night sky. It would have been the perfect end to the day if the weight of Billy's dare, the kiss with Joe, and the words of the note weren't sitting on Sam's shoulders and taking in the exact same sight.
​'There you are.' His dad threw an arm around Sam's shoulders, knocking off the burden of his worries for a brief moment.
​'Hi Dad.'
​'This was one of your mum's favourite things to do.'
​'Marshmallows?'
​'Yep, toasting them over a fire. We used to do it every year at your grandparent's house on bonfire night. She would melt down a marshmallow until it was gooey, and then press it between two chocolate digestives with the chocolate sides facing inwards.'
​Sam felt his mouth start to taste the sweet biscuit-y treat that his mum had invented. 'Sounds amazing.'
​'I wasn't so keen on it at first, but then it kind of grew on me. So, we started trying it with different biscuits. But I think chocolate digestives always worked the best.'
​'Do we have any tonight?'
​Sam looked up to his dad, the firelight catching in his greying stubble and his kind, bright eyes. 'I may have nipped to the shop by the pub before we left,' he grinned. 'Our little secret though.' He squeezed his son into his side and Sam enjoyed the cocoon of safety for the few steps leading up to the others by the campfire. To one side sat Isla and Joe, to the other Arty and Billy, and along the back sat the parents. Sam stepped over a large horizontal log and sat down on his own.
​'Why are you sitting so far away, weirdo?' Isla jested the moment his bottom hit the top of the log. 'Here.'
​She leaned over Joe to offer Sam a long stick that had been shaped into a skewer and a plump marshmallow pierced over the end. Isla smiled, and behind her, Joe stared until Sam's eyes met his and then he turned to look into the fire.
​'Are we burning these or what?' Arty grumbled.
​'Cheer up, you miserable sod. We have to put them all in at the same time and then I'll be able to tell you when it's at its optimum mushiness.'
​'Mushiness?' Billy questioned with a laugh.
​'Trust me. You will thank me later.' Isla moved to sit next to Sam then held her own stick out in front. 'Three. Two. One. In!'
​And as if it were counting down to the start of his chance to set things right, for tonight at least, Sam felt his heartbeat in time. Three. Two. One. He took a deep breath in.

After the first round or two of marshmallows, Karen had produced a deck of cards with the word 'Uno' written across the back. A space had been cleared on the floor before the multi-coloured cards were dealt out to each of them. Sam tried to mask a smile as he saw two black cards in his hand, a 'change colour' and a 'pick up four cards' card. Both of which were bound to lead him to a win. However, when Joe insisted that the game be played counter-clockwise, his heart sank a little as he realised that Billy would fall victim to his 'pick up four cards'.
​Sam had been keeping a close eye on the game, but also on Karen and her closeness to his dad. He knew his dad deserved to be happy, whoever he might meet, and he thought he had always been fine that at some point his dad might meet someone else... but not yet. Right now, Sam needed his dad the most, he couldn't let him get distracted by Karen and her coloured hair...
​'Your turn, Sam. Red Two. You got anything?' Isla asked, raising her eyebrows.
​Sam moved his eyes to his cards. A blue, a few greens, a yellow, and then the two black cards. Crap. He was about to drop Billy right in it. Unless he changed the colour this round, and then hoped next time he could play a colour card...
​'Change Colour. Green,' Sam offered to Billy, who wasn't aware that this move was in fact sparing him a little.
​'Green, Five.' Billy played confidently and then kept his gaze on Sam and flicked his eyes to Isla with a grin.
​Sam gulped. He hated this and suddenly became aware that he was feeling very dry in the mouth, and had started squeezing his lip, and he was holding his breath.
​'You okay?' The words came in a whisper into his ear.
​Sam turned his head slightly in the direction of Isla who was watching the game but had moved in closer to Sam.
​'Yeah. Yeah fine. Just need a drink.' Sam looked over behind his dad and Karen, who were chatting about something but still an acceptable distance from each other at the moment, and he noticed two large bottles of Pepsi Max sat in a cool box. 'Be right back.'
​Sam quickly hopped to his feet and headed round to the bottles of Pepsi Max. As he plunged his hands into the iced water, he felt relief and a calming run up as the coldness covered his wrists. The beating of his heart seemed to start somewhere in his palms.
​'Can you pour me one too?'
​Isla. Again. Billy would be annoyed that she had got up first again, but maybe he would also be watching to see if anything happened.
​'Sure.' Sam shakily moved his hands from the iced water and picked up two plastic cups from a bag. He balanced them on the floor and then lifted the bottle of Pepsi from the box.
​'You okay, Sam?'
​He nodded.
​'Okay, I'll rephrase. I know you're not okay, Sam. What's going on? Is this anything to do with last time?'
​Isla pushed Sam's shoulder and he fell backward onto the floor. Isla dropped to the floor in front of him and crossed her legs, the two cups of Pepsi between them.
​'Cheers,' she said as she took one of the cups and held it up in the air between them.
​Sam took the other and touched it against hers. He drank, and the sweet fizzy liquid tickled his dry mouth and he could feel the scratchiness easing in his throat.
​'You can talk to me, Sam.'
​Sam lifted his eyes to meet Isla's for the first time since she came over. Her warmly toned skin, kind hazelnut eyes, and soft smile, accentuated by the amber glow of the nearby fire, made her seem like someone he could trust and open up to. But how much could he really say? What had Joe already told her?
​'Is it because of what happened earlier?' The words seemed to tighten around Sam's lungs and he was suddenly short for breath. 'I noticed the way Billy looked at you, and then me.'
​'What?' Sam squeezed out.
​'Billy. I saw him a second ago look at you, and then me. Is there something you want to ask me? Or he wants to ask me?'
​Sam considered what she was saying for a moment. She didn't mean what had happened between him and Joe.
​'It's a stupid dare,' Sam confessed, and for the first time all evening, felt a little bit of relief sweep over him. Maybe he should tell Isla more of what had been going on. Having someone to open up to beyond his mum's notebook or his dad was what he needed.
​'From Billy?' Isla shuffled her legs back into a crossed position, and let her hands go from Sam's shoulders.
​'You guys coming back or what?' Joe's voice called almost aggressively from beside the campfire.
​'Two seconds. Just skip us this go!' Isla snapped back. 'Dickhead.'
​'Do you not like Joe?'
​Part of Sam appreciated that Isla always seemed to protect him whenever she could, and in this case making their decision to stay over here seem like hers was appreciated. But another side of Sam now knew that Joe had a thing for Isla, and perhaps if Sam did help Joe understand if Isla liked him too then he might forgive him for the kiss.
​Isla shrugged. 'He's alright, I just don't like to let him get too ahead of himself. He's cocky, you know?'
​'True,' Sam sniffed.
​'Tell me the dare, Sam. Can I help? I just want you to enjoy being here with us lot,' she smiled, and he knew it was genuine.
​'I have to kiss you.'
​Isla leaned back, raised her eyebrows, and then let out a small laugh.
​'Is that it?'
​'That's not a big thing to you?' Sam asked, timidly.
​Isla shrugged. 'A kiss is a kiss. If that's all you need to do to enjoy the rest of tonight then stand up.' She quickly hopped to her feet, and dusted herself down, then offering her hands down to help Sam up to his feet.
​'Really?'
​'Don't talk Sam, ruins the moment,' she joked, slightly biting her lip as Sam was pulled up to be level with her.
​They stood at about the same height, and Sam felt Isla's hand slowly move up his arm and gently place on his shoulder, her fingers moving behind the back of his neck. She stepped forward and Sam felt their trainers brush against each other. He felt nerves swelling inside him. Isla's eyes flashed to meet his. 'Relax, Sam.'
​Sam breathed out, slowly. Isla squeezed his hand with hers and then her eyes moved to his lips. Sam closed his eyes and let Isla move his head in to meet hers. Their lips pressed against each other and seemed to be over in seconds.
​He opened his eyes. Isla smiled.
​'Good?'
​Sam quickly reacted. 'Yes. Thanks.'
​Isla laughed. 'Thanks? You're weird, Sam. Now come on.'
​She took his hand again and span him around to face the group and the campfire. Arty seemed to be offering a smile that said, 'fair play'. Billy, though, was angrily chewing on marshmallows and avoiding Sam's eyes. Joe's hand covered his mouth, and he threw them both a brief smile before looking into the fire.
​Had Sam done the right thing?
​Isla confidently dropped into her seat between Joe and where Sam was previously sat and grabbed a marshmallow from the open bag on the floor. 'Right, whose turn is it?'

As the night went on, they had played more and more rounds of Uno, and eventually everyone had started to send Mexican waves of yawns around the group. The parents had begun to tidy up the rubbish and slowly the group peeled away. Arty left firstly after falling asleep sat up with his beanie hat over his eyes. Then Billy had mumbled a 'goodnight' and walked over to their tent which left Sam no sense of urgency to follow. And then Isla, with a peck to Sam's cheek and a ruffle of Joe's hair.
​'Sam?' his dad called, finally, not leaving him and Joe alone too long.
​'Night, Joe.'
​'Yeah, night, Sam,' he sighed and placed one of the last marshmallows on a stick preparing to hover it above the much calmer flames that now sat inside the barrel.
​Sam ran over to his dad.
​'You had a good night?' his dad grinned. 'I saw you and Isla...' He nudged him.
​'Oh, that was nothing. Just a dare. Sorry, Dad.'
​'Hey, don't apologise to me! As long as you're having fun I don't care what you're doing. Look here.' His dad plunged his hands into his coat pocket and pulled out a half packet of chocolate digestive biscuits. 'What do you say? Shall we make a 'mum special' before bed?'
​Sam smiled at his dad, and then looked back over to the fire where Joe sat alone, his dad bidding him goodnight with a wave.
​'Dad, do you mind if I show Joe how to make one instead?'
​His dad took in a deep breath. 'Sure, Son. I'm tired anyway. Just make sure you dowse the fire before heading into your tents, okay?'
​'Thanks Dad. Will do.'
​Sam took the biscuits and walked back over to the fire and lowered himself onto the log beside Joe. Taking the stick he had been previously using, he then took one more marshmallow from the bag and pulled it onto the stick, before holding it out over the embers next to Joe.
​'You not going to bed?' Joe asked, a little moodily.
​'I wanted to show you this thing my dad told me about. It's something my mum used to make with marshmallows and chocolate biscuits. Let me know when yours is ready,' Sam smiled, staring at the fire whilst it gently toasted their white fluffy marshmallows and turning them into golden brown crispy plumes of sweetness.
'Do you... do you ever miss your mum?'
​The question took Sam by surprise. Up until now, Joe's focus seemed to only be on the kiss with Isla. Maybe Joe was the writer of the note that Sam had found and Joe wasn't just disappointed about Isla kissing Sam, but that the secret he thought he knew about Sam could now not possibly be true.
​Sam wished his mum was here now.  His dad had always told him how amazing of a journalist his mum was, and how she had a talent for mapping out a story and filling in all the blanks. He wondered how she would approach the dilemma he was in right now. Would she pin Sam in the middle of a board and run strings out to each of Billy, Isla, Joe, and Arty? He could see it now, each of them would then have post it notes scattered around them with the ideas, thoughts, and motives all building a reason as to why they may have authored the note that Sam had found.
​'I do. Every day,' Sam smiled at Joe. 'But I have my dad, and we're good. We find our way of figuring everything out.' He took a pause for a second considering how to say what he planned to next. 'Sorry about Isla.' He noticed Joe's head turn towards him a bit.
​'Oh, that's fine.'
​'It's not what you think. And I know you're probably confused.'
​'I'm fine,' Joe sternly added.
​'I'm not.' Sam found the honest words piercing his lips quicker than he could consider them. 'I mean, I don't feel fine knowing that I kissed Isla, when you like her.'
​'So... why do it?' Joe mumbled, pulling his hoodie further round him.
​'It was a dare. Some stupid dare that Billy said I had to do when I lost a game to him on the mountain hike today. I told Isla about it and she said 'fine' and then it happened. She's confident, you know?'
​'Yeah,' Joe smiled. 'I kind of like that. She keeps me guessing.'
​'That's what she said.' Sam returned the warm grin.
​'She spoke about me?'
​Sam shrugged. 'Not too much. But I can still help, if you wanted me to?'
​Joe considered that for a moment, nodding his head and staring into the fire. They sat for a minute or two it seemed until their marshmallows started to crumple.
​'Show me, then.' Joe moved his stick to Sam who also retrieved his own from the fire.
​Carefully, Sam lay out four biscuits on his knees, all chocolate side up. Then, as quick as the hot mallows would allow, he peeled them off one by one and placed them on one biscuit each. Whilst steam still rose into the air, he quickly flipped the other biscuits on top of each creating a sandwich of marshmallow and chocolate between the biscuits.
​'Press it down so that the marshmallow spreads out a bit,' Sam smiled.
​Together, they then took their first bites. The crunch of biscuits, the silky-smooth hot chocolate, and then the gooey marshmallow. It was divine. His mum was a genius...
​'This is incredible,' Joe confessed.
​They laughed.
​'Look...' Joe moved closer to Sam. 'About the kiss.'
​Sam's heart seemed to stop. Everything seemed to stop. The fire. The taste sensation. His breathing.
​'Don't panic.' Joe put his hand on Sam's shoulder. 'That's your thing to tell, you know?'
​'I'm sorry, Joe. I didn't mean-'
​'-Sam, I'm fine with it. Really. You're obviously trying to figure something out right now and you have to do that in your own time. It's not down to me to disrupt that or tell it for you.' Joe sat back, and Sam let the shock sink in. Or was that relief? That tingling, relaxing sensation of wonderment extending through every limb.
​'But...'
​Joe shrugged. 'So, you kissed me. I would have preferred if it was Isla.'
​A joke. They laughed, again. Sam sniffled.
​'Jeez, don't cry on me, man.' Joe playfully nudged Sam in the arm.
​'Sorry. It's just that a lot has happened tonight.'
​Joe nodded. 'This.' He gestured to the last bit of his biscuit. 'Was amazing. And if you need to chat about stuff, Sam. Ask Isla,' he winked, and then got up. 'Night, Sam.'
​'Night, Joe.'