Page 42 of Sing it, Sam

I take a tissue from my pocket and blow my nose. “Yeah? Who else? Frederick thinks I’m mean, and you ... you don’t even have glasses,” I blurt out.

“What?” Sam says through a chuckle.

“You don’t wear glasses for reading.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Okay, so you got me.”

“Why did you lie about it?”

“That little white lie was to spend more time with you. Truth be told, I only started reading that book because you suggested it. If I didn’t tell a furfy about the glasses, would you have stayed?”

What is he saying? That I’m only here because I feel sorry for him?“If you had asked me, of course I would’ve.”

“Would you? Would you willingly spend your spare time with the poor guy with the strange disease?”

“What? That’s not who you are. Don’t label yourself like that.”

“Then who am I, huh?” he demands.

I cup his face in my hands and close the distance between us. In a moment of calm, I drive forward and slam my mouth against his. As our lips connect, and tongues dance, my head swirls, crowded with a multitude of emotions. It’s in that moment I know how I truly feel about him.

I pull back and stare into his striking blue eyes. “You’re Sam.”

I want Sam. It doesn’t matter to me how he got here, or how we met.

Sam has touched my heart.

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