The Time Until (3 page)

Present Day

“A coma?”
I need
clarification.
 
I don’t have any
experience with comas.

“Yes.
 
They
say she’s completely unresponsive.” That’s something else I can’t comprehend.

Sam is the most active person I know.
 
She plays three sports – if you count running
as a sport.
 
She’s part of a committee in
her sorority. Truth be told, I have no idea what she does in the sorority, but
she’s always planning something with them. And she never misses an opportunity
to come home and visit or just hang out with me.
 
Trying to get Sam to sit still is harder than
getting a two-year-old to do it.

“We were just about to go see her,” Mary says as
she peels herself out of Nate’s embrace. “She should be moved by now.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” I agree, and
before anyone can stop me, I get out of bed.
 
Actually, it’s more like a really awkward scoot, then a slow slide off
the edge, and finally a rapid descent to the floor when my legs decide to rebel
and stop working.
 
Luckily, my mother is
there to catch me. The room is no longer spinning. No. It’s a tornado and I’m
holding on for dear life.
 
Then the pain
kicks in or kicks my ass, either is fine. They both hurt.

I’m seriously rethinking the whole getting out of
bed thing.

“Whoa, Son, maybe you should hold off on getting
up for a bit,” Nate says, concerned.

“I think I might have to do that, Sir.” I flinch
as I adjust my position after laying back.
 
My mom hovers over me with a concerned look on her face.

“
It’s
okay, Mom.” I shut
my eyes to hopefully stop the spinning. “I doubt I’ll be trying to get out of
bed for a while now.” She doesn’t look convinced — most likely remembering the
time they tried to separate me and Sam when we were kids — but she nods and
eases back on her hovering.

The pain starts to subside, but that failed
attempt at getting up really took a lot out of me.
 
It’s a battle to keep my eyes open.

“I think I’ll just rest for a bit.” My neck feels
like a wet noodle, so I keep my eyes closed to stave off the dizzy spell. “I’m
suddenly feeling really tired.” My dad grunts as if he knows what’s happening.

“It’s most likely the pain meds.
 
They definitely wipe you out.”
 
It feels like such a pain to answer him, so I
allow my head to fall forward in a lazy nod of agreement.

“I think we’ll go with you and let Alan get some
rest,” my mom says turning to the Cohn’s.
 
Mary nods.

“I think that would be a great idea, Sara.”

Sara, my mother, turns back to me and gives me a
hug.

“We’ll be back.” I manage to get a hand up to her
back for a quick pat.

“I’ll be here.” I can feel the space between us
when she leaves. I didn’t realize how comforting my mother is when she’s being,
well…comforting.

“See you later,
Squirt
.”
My father gives his manly goodbye with his childish nickname for me.
 
It’s the one I don’t like since I’m not a kid
anymore.
 
I don’t respond and just half-ass
raise my good fist in the air in acknowledgement.

I’m rapidly losing the battle to stay awake and
sleep claims me almost before they leave the room.

10 Years Ago (Age 10):
 
July

“With what you just told me about what’s going
on, I think it might be a good idea to separate Sam and Alan,” Nate says and my
heart sinks.
 
I used to love Nate almost
as much as I love my parents.
 
I don’t
like him a whole lot right now.
 
I can’t
believe I just heard that when I decided to eavesdrop.
 
Good thing Sam isn’t here with me.
 
She would be on her feet and yelling at them
before I could stop her.

“Are you sure that’s the best option?” my mom
asks. “I mean they are a little too close for being so young, but separation?”

“They just turned ten years old.
 
If not now, how are they going to handle the
separation later when they have more time to grow closer?” He draws a breath.
“They’re already one step down the aisle as it is.” My mom nods in agreement.

“They are really close,” my mom agrees, “it
worries me sometimes how close they’ve become since Emily.” She seems to
contemplate for a minute. “Okay, I’ll talk it over with John tonight and we’ll
figure out the best way to go about it.”

“Honestly I think we should just rip the
Band-Aid.”

“Just keep them apart?” Nate nods.
 
I have had about all I can handle of this
conversation.
 
Slowly, I leave the
room.
 
I don’t like the conversation
their having at all, I don’t think I can stay away from Sam if I wanted
to.
 
I’m hiding in my room when I hear
Nate finally leave and my parents start heading up the stairs.

This is not going to be a good night.

“I can’t believe they want us to stop being
friends!” I knew Sam would be like this.
 
I can tell
she
angry – even though she’s
hanging upside down on the monkey bars – because she’s got her arms folding in
front of her and she’s yelling.

“I’m only allowed to see you at school,” she
continues, “he told me no more weekends.
 
We’re not even allowed to walk home together.” I nod because I had
almost the same exact speech from my parents last night.
 
So here we are, in the playground of the
school and talking about the arguments we had with our parents.

Sam suddenly flips off the bars, lands on her
feet and looks at me.

Uh oh.
 
I know that look.

“I got it!”

I groan.
 
Whenever she has this look, I usually end up in trouble or hurt – or
both.
 
I have a feeling this is going to
be one of those ideas where I’ll be grounded for years.

I just walk away.

“No. Come on, Al!” Sam yells after me. “You
haven’t even heard my idea yet.”

“I know that look, Sam.” I turn around to face
her. “It always means trouble for me.” Sam walks right up to me and her
mischievous grin that never fails to send chills down my back is spread across
her face.
 
She knows the moment I turned
around was the moment that she won.

“You’re going to love this one though.”

As I groan and hang my head in defeat, I can
already hear my parents yelling at me.