Page 74 of Sing it, Sam

He narrows his eyes.

“‘I Kissed a Girl’?” I remind him.

“Oh yeah, right. Sorry. My memory.” He shrugs.

Of course. Another side effect of GBS. “Don’t worry about it,” I say, and wave it off.

“You wanna know what Idoworry about?” He smirks.

“What’s that?”

“When I’m gonna kiss her again.”

I move onto all fours and shuffle my hands and knees closer to him. “Sing first,” I challenge, raising my brows.

Sam sits up on his elbows, lessening the gap between us. His breath tickles at my lips. “Kidding me, right?”

“Nope.” I brush my nose against his and sit to the side of the rug once again, my legs crossed. I clasp my hands in my lap and wait patiently.

Sam stares at me for a moment but his gaze seems to look straight through me.

“Sing it, Sam,” I whisper. “Sing something—anything.Please.”

He leans back against the pillow. “I need a beat. Can you clap for me? Like a second hand on a clock.”

I bring my hands together, pausing for a second between each clap.

“A little faster,” he coaches.

“Okay.” I speed up.

“Good.” Sam draws in a deep breath. “Okay, so this is one of my favourite covers, ‘Wherever You Will Go’ by The Calling.”

He closes his eyes and places his right hand over his chest, tapping his fingers to the same beat I clap.

His voice is gravelly to begin with, but once he’s a few lines in, his tone smooths out. There’s a youthfulness to his voice, yet a world of maturity in his tone and in the way he sings the lyrics. Sam sings, asking who will be there to take my place, and the shadows on your face.

Immediately, my heart takes a dive. This song could be taken in so many ways. I take it as if Sam is singing it to me. The thought of him not being around and watching over me has tears flowing down my face, like a dam bursting its banks.Could GBS kill him?My skin turns to gooseflesh as his sweet, soft words fill my ears and my heart.

When he reaches the chorus with talk of running away, I choke back a sob and sing with him.

I throw myself into his arms. He coughs and weaves his arms around my back. “Janie,” he whispers in my ear.

A chill drives up my spine. I squeeze him hard, compressing his labouring chest to mine. “Never stop singing, Sam. That was just … ”

I lean on my side and press my palm against his flushed cheek. Tears well in the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill. He coughs.

“Fark,” he growls under his breath as a tear trails down his face. “Janie made me cry.”

Laughter bubbles up my throat as I battle my own tears. He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, placing a kiss on my curled fingers.

“I’m sorry. You just … your voice is so beautiful.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he soothes.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, and melt into his arms once more. “I’ve never said that to a guy before. I don’t mean it to sound like you’re feminine or anything, but you are. Beautiful. Not feminine. God, I’m rambling. Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

A comforting silence surrounds us as we hold each other close.

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