Played. Liz Fichera

understand.”

      “Try me. We’ve got time.”

      His hand dropped against my back. “There’s not enough time to explain to you what I mean. You don’t live it. You wouldn’t get it. Trust me.”

      “I’m smarter than you think, you know.”

      “I never said you were dumb.”

      “No, you said I was thorough. Remember? This is me, living up to my nickname. I need more detail. Now tell me.”

      Sam chuckled, but it was the kind of nervous chuckle where I knew he wasn’t going to share anything more. His legs began to twitch as if they were covered in ants. Very un-Sam-Tracy-like. And, honestly? I was shocked he’d even told me what he had. In a weird way, I felt kind of privileged. Sam didn’t strike me as the kind of boy who went around sharing his secrets.

      “Tell me more about her, Sam. Tell me more about what you love about her?”

      “I haven’t said enough?”

      “Not even close.”

      He snickered. “Okay, then. Well, she laughs at my bad jokes. She’s kind to people. She’s patient—more patient than I’ll ever be. And she’s determined.” He paused. “I think I love that most of all.”

      After a silent moment, I said, “You know that getting her is impossible, don’t you?” I leaned back down from my elbow.

      Sam didn’t answer.

      “Ryan and Fred are so in love that it’s...it’s almost sickening.”

      Sam chuckled. “I know.”

      “I think they’re considering getting surgically sewn together.”

      Sam’s chest shook against mine.

      “And then I hear that they’re going to share the same brain.”

      “Stop it, Riley,” Sam said, laughing harder.

      “I’m just telling you. You’re asking for the tragically impossible.”

      “I didn’t say that I wanted to go out with her. I just told you that I loved her. That’s my really, really personal thing that you said you wanted to hear. That’s all.”

      “Yes, well. That’s...sad,” I said, forgetting for the moment that, except for the parts covered by my underwear, my naked skin was touching Sam Tracy, a boy who was in love with my brother’s girlfriend. How twisted was that?

      “That’s the way it is,” Sam said. “You can’t have everything.”

      “At least you understand.”

      “More than you know.” He sighed, and for a few seconds that turned into minutes, we said nothing and just listened to the rain drip-dropping through the branches that sheltered us.

      My eyelids grew heavy as my body stayed warm against Sam’s, even as I kept playing Sam’s secret in my mind. I couldn’t picture it—Fred and Sam? My brother without Fred? To say that it was impossible would be an understatement. There are some people who go together, like dark chocolate and sea salt. Would Sam really have a chance with Fred?

      Despite his love for Fred, right now I was glad that we were together. If I had to get stranded in a forest and Jake Gyllenhaal wasn’t available, I was glad I was with Sam Tracy. In fact, forget Jake. I’d definitely choose Sam. He’d scaled down a mountain for me. He hadn’t left me alone. He was keeping me warm. He was keeping me alive. And he’d told me his deepest, darkest secret.

      “Let’s try to get some sleep,” Sam said. “We’ll need our strength for tomorrow if we plan to hike out of here.”

      I yawned. “You don’t want to talk anymore?” I needed to do something to get my mind off what could be crawling around and over the pine needles and dirt that were doing a decent job of keeping the cold away. Just as Sam had said they would. “No more secrets?”

      “That wasn’t juicy enough for you?”

      “Good point.”

      “I’m tired.” Sam yawned.

      I sighed. “Okay, you win. I’ll shut up.”

      So I rested my head on Sam’s smooth chest, listening as his breathing slowed. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. That’s when I realized it had stopped raining. There was still a tiny rumble of thunder, but it sounded miles away.

      “Sam?” I whispered. I wanted to tell him that the rain had finally stopped, the storm had passed, but he didn’t answer.

      And then I began to dream crazy dreams.

      16

      Sam

      Wrapped around Riley, I didn’t sleep a solitary second the entire night, but she did.

      Riley talked in her sleep, too. She said nothing that I could understand, but at least it helped the night to pass. It was like trying to figure out Latin or something. One time she even giggled. Martin and Peter were never going to believe this. They were going to give me grief for being Mr. Gentleman. “Why didn’t you at least kiss her,” Martin would probably say. “Or at least brush her breast while your hand was in the general area?”