The alarm blared, jolting Samantha Simms awake from another melancholy dream. With a sigh, she slapped the snooze button and pulled the covers back over her head, wishing she could escape back into that bittersweet reverie. But it was 6:30am on another dreary Monday morning, and Fairview High beckoned.

Dragging herself out of bed, Samantha shuffled to the bathroom and stared at her reflection. Tired brown eyes gazed back at her from a pale, freckled face framed by disheveled chestnut locks. At 16, she felt the weight of the world pressing down on her narrow shoulders. Another day of numbing classes, cliquish peers, and the suffocating sameness of small-town life. What was the point?

Downstairs, her mother chirped a greeting, entirely too perky for the early hour. “Morning, Sam! I made pancakes.” The scent of buttermilk and syrup turned Samantha’s stomach. She grabbed a protein bar instead.

“I’m fine, mom. Gotta go or I’ll be late.” She kissed her mother’s cheek and hurried out the door before any more cheerfulness could assault her.

The morning was damp and grey, matching Samantha’s mood. She zipped up her hoodie and trudged the six blocks to Fairview High, hands jammed in her pockets, hood pulled low. All around her, cookie-cutter houses sat squat and lifeless, lawns a dull post-winter brown. The occasional dog barked from behind a fence as she passed. So this was life in Fairview, Nebraska – an endless cycle of school and sleep in a bland little burg, nothing ever happening.

Samantha’s sullen reverie was pierced by a shout. “Yo, Simms! Wait up!” She turned to see Zack Armstrong loping towards her, trademark sideways grin plastered on his angular face. Samantha’s stomach did a little flip. She’d harbored a secret crush on Zack since 7th grade, but they ran in different crowds. He was gregarious and easygoing, always ready with a joke or prank. Samantha was the classic introvert – nose in a book, earbuds perpetually in place, watching life from the shadows.

“Hey Zack,” she replied, trying for nonchalance. “What’s up?”

“Nada mucho,” he quipped, falling into step beside her. “Just another manic Monday, am I right? Hey, did you do the chem homework? I totally spaced it…”

They made small talk until they reached the squat brick edifice of Fairview High. Zack peeled off with a jaunty salute. “Catch ya later, Simms! Keep it real.”

Samantha watched him jog towards his pack of basketball teammates roughhousing on the quad and sighed. Yeah, like Zack Armstrong would ever see her as anything but the shy girl who let him copy her chem homework. She was destined to remain invisible, just another unremarkable face in the yearbook.

The rest of the day passed in a monotonous blur. Samantha drifted from class to class, from trig to English to Spanish, only half listening to the teachers drone. At lunch, she sat alone in her customary corner of the cafeteria, picking at a wilted salad while all around her, raucous laughter and chatter floated in the air. Clumps of jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, and potheads each held court at their designated tables. No one invited Samantha to join them. No one even seemed to notice she existed at all.

As the final bell rang, Samantha gathered her books and shuffled towards the door, resigned to another solitary walk home. But a voice calling her name made her turn. Zack was hurrying towards her, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his normally smirking face.

“Hey, uh, Samantha… you got a minute?” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost bashfully.

Samantha’s heart stuttered. “Um, sure Zack. What’s up?”

He glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “I just wanted to say, well… I notice you. Sitting alone every day. And I think that sucks.”

Samantha blinked. Where was this coming from? “It’s fine,” she demurred. “I’m used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be!” Zack burst out, startling her. “Look, I know we don’t talk much, but…” He took a deep breath. “You seem really cool. And if you ever want someone to sit with at lunch, well…”

A foreign sensation bloomed in Samantha’s chest. Was that… hope? She searched Zack’s amber eyes and found only sincerity there.

“Thanks, Zack,” she said softly. “That… means a lot.”

He flashed her a smile, a real one this time. “Awesome. So… see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Samantha watched him walk away, a spring in his step. For the first time in as long as she could remember, the pervasive melancholy lifted just a bit. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than solitary walks and silent lunches. Maybe this small town held some surprises after all.

Feature Photo by Liza Summer