The Sound of Ice

43 - The End

We graduated. We graduated. I passed math class with a C+, and I walked down the stage after Veronica and took my diploma and shook the principal's hand and I graduated. Sam graduated. He won some awards, too. I don't know. Mom cried. Tom was there. God. We did it.

I've never been to New York City before.

"I've never been to New York City before," Sam says.

"Me neither," I say. I turn to look out the window as the buildings get smaller and smaller, thousands of miles below the airplane. We pass through a cloud and turbulence gently shakes the plane, and my grip tightens on the armrest.

Sam takes my hand, his warm fingers intertwining with mine, and rubs his thumb into my palm. "Do you think Tom is okay?"

I glance over at him. "Yeah, Tom is okay," I say. "Don't worry."

A nurse is staying with Tom for a couple nights while me, Mom, Veronica, Hailey, and Sam are in New York. 

Sam bites his fingernails with his free hand. "Okay."

I lean in closer to his ear, smell the sweet, clean shampoo that he always smells like. "You don't have to worry," I say again, quieter. "Tom is totally fine."

He smiles softly. "Okay, Cameron."

"Okay, Sam."

From across the aisle, Hailey leans as far out of her seat as possible. "Hi, Sam!" she says loudly, even though the aisle is narrow and they can't be more than four feet apart.

"Hi, Hailey," says Sam. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah!" She grins widely. Her hair is in two French braids, and beside her, Veronica and Mom flip through magazines. 

The airplane is cold and filled with the constant murmur of chatter, yawns, and a baby that's crying in the back. Sam's blue eyes blink up towards the ceiling, a row of buttons and air vents. 

New York City. I've never been to New York City. But that's where the NHL draft is this year. Shit. It's here. 

For some reason, I feel like crying. But I just clear my throat and look out the window, at the pale blue sky and sprawling acres of green below. Because Sam is going to Harvard in the fall.

He waited until the last minute to decide. Last minute meaning two weeks ago. The conversation went something like this: 

Sam: Shit.

Mom: Don't swear, Sam. Cameron is rubbing off on you.

Sam: I can't do this. I should put it off for another year or two, stay here.

Tom: I want you to do this, Sam.

Sam: But, Tom -

Tom: Sam, you can't turn down a full scholarship like this. I'll be fine. 

Sam: I don't know. What do you think, Cameron?

Me: I think you should do it, Sam.

And that was hard to say. One of the hardest things I've ever said. My chest got all tight and my heart hurt a lot.

I mean, I know I'm right. I know Sam needs to go to Harvard. He's so smart. He's going to work at NASA. He's going to do something crazy important - way more important than play hockey, that's for sure. 

I like Sam. I like Sam a lot. I mean - you know what I mean. I don't know how I'm going to live without him. I didn't even know who I was before him. I didn't know I could like - I mean - you know what I mean - someone like this. I wish I could tell him these things. But I'm not as good with words as he is.