Sam idly shuffled the cards in his hands, his mind starting to drift. He looked up at the window in the distance, the snow still swirling like mad in the wind. From tidal wave to icy snowstorm; it was difficult to believe. Even after the brief conversation with his father yesterday, he still didn't know what was going on. All he had to go by was his father's frantic advice to stay indoors and wait out the coming storm. He had heard the fear and concern in Jack Hall's voice and instinctively understood that this was serious.
"Hey, are you gonna deal those puppies or just shuffle them to death?"
He snapped out of it and gave Seth an apologetic smile. "Yeah, sorry."
They had been playing poker for the last hour and so far, Seth was winning. Summer was a close second and Sam was dead last. He just couldn't seem to get a winning hand and he was a terrible bluffer. Dealing out another round, he paused as he saw a gathering crowd around the windows. Some of them were pointing outside and there was a swelling hum of chattering voices.
One guy turned around to announce what was going on. "We can see people! They're all walking on the snow."
It had started snowing yesterday, just after they'd witnessed the insanely bizarre sight of an ocean freightliner making its way down 5th Avenue before getting stuck a little past the library. The gentle snowflakes had soon roared into a full-fledged storm with a fast accumulation of snow. If people were walking on it, the floodwater must have frozen over.
Sam took some comfort in the sighting of others. Their world had been eerily condensed to the people in this room and until now, there had been no sign of life outside. He supposed it only made sense that if they'd survived, others must have too. But why hadn't anyone come for them yet? Surely the government could bring in the military or search and rescue teams to find them. Instead, it seemed only his father cared enough to come. And despite all of the past promises made and unfulfilled, Sam believed with all his heart that this one wouldn't be broken.
"Okay, people, gather your things and let's move out of here," commanded a voice that sounded like a person well acquainted with giving orders. It was a police officer and he waved his arms and clapped his hands a couple of times to get everyone's attention. "If they're walking on the snow, so can we. It looks like no one is coming for us so we'll have to help ourselves."
An almost palpable excitement filled the air, as if everyone was glad to finally get a move on and actively do something, rather than just sit and wait in limbo. They all began packing up except Sam's little group. He caught Laura's eyes on him.
"Sam, you should say something," she said.
"I know. But I don't think they'll listen."
"You have to try," she insisted.
She was right. Tossing down the cards, he jogged up to the officer. "Excuse me, sir, but you're making a big mistake."
The man barely acknowledged him, intent on helping a young boy with his coat. "What's that?"
Sam spoke louder, emphasizing each word. "I said you're making a mistake."
Finally, he had the older man's full attention. "What do you mean?"
"Don't lead these people outside. There's a storm coming. A bad one. We have to stay inside and wait it out."
The officer regarded him with a mixture of uncertainty and disbelief. "Where are you getting your information?" he demanded.
"From my father. He's a professor. A climatologist. He works in Washington and he knows what he's talking about."
Sam was so focused on the policeman, he didn't notice that others had stopped and gathered around him, listening intently. At least, not until they started arguing with him.
"But we don't have a lot of food. If a storm is coming, it would be better to find some help than stay here and starve."
"How do we know your father knows what he's talking about?"
"Yeah, especially a weatherman. They never get anything right."
Annoyed, Sam snapped, "I said he's a climatologist. A scientist. Not a TV weather reporter."
"Whatever," shrugged the middle-aged man. "I'm with the cop. We should go."
The crowd murmured in agreement and turned their attention back to preparing to leave.
A single, strong voice cut through the air. "I'm staying."
Sam looked back at Seth, grateful for the audible show of support. It probably wouldn't make a difference but he appreciated it.
"Me too," Summer piped up, getting to her feet.
Laura was the last to stand up. "I'm staying too. Please listen to Sam," she begged. "His father wouldn't tell him to stay if he wasn't absolutely sure it's the right thing to do."
But her words went unheeded. Sam turned once more to face the officer, who was regarding him not unkindly. "You do what you think is best, son. And so will I. Good luck."
In less than five minutes, the crowd began filing out. As far as Sam was concerned, it was a funeral march to their deaths. As they walked past him, he tried one last time, hoping to change someone's mind.
He held out a hand towards an elderly man. "Please, sir, just stay here." He saw a mother leading her children away. "Ma'am, don't do this. They'll die out there."
After a while, the pleas died out on his lips and he simply watched them go. Somehow, he'd managed to get through to three people and they remained behind – the tall, thin woman that he'd spoken to yesterday to ask where the payphones were, a young woman with straight brown hair, and a nervous-looking bespectacled man.
The room suddenly seemed colder than ever as they stood and looked at each other, unsure of what to say.
Seth came up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, man, you gave it a shot. They just wouldn't listen."
"That's right," Summer agreed. "No one can say you didn't try."
Laura silently stood before him and gave him a hug. She didn't say a word.
"Well," said the man with the glasses. "I suppose introductions are in order."
One by one, they introduced themselves. His name was Jeremy, the young lady was Elsa, and the older woman who worked here was Judith.
"So what now?" Elsa asked.
"We should move to a smaller room," Sam suggested. "It's already starting to feel too cold in here."
"I know the perfect spot," Judith said. "It's small and comfortable. There's even a fireplace."
Summer brought up the next problem. "What about food? I don't think there's anything left in the vending machines."
But Judith had an answer for that too. "There's a lounge for library staff that has its own vending machines and a kitchen. There isn't a lot in the cupboards, but there's crackers, cookies...that type of thing."
"Peanut butter?" Summer asked in a hopeful tone.
"I...I think there might be, yes," Judith replied, giving her a strange look.
"How do you know the cupboards haven't been raided yet?" Seth asked. "Maybe people already found them and cleaned them out."
"The lounge door is locked." Judith reached into her pocket and pulled something out, dangling it with one finger. "And I have the key."
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Laura sat a few feet back from the fire, about as content as someone could be while stranded in a public library, a blizzard raging outside. There was nothing like the sound of books crackling in the fireplace. It was shameful, really, to be burning them. But she understood the need and was grateful to be warm. In fact, she was beginning to feel overheated.
She pushed the blanket aside, just as Sam came to sit down in the chair next to her. "Nice and toasty now, isn't it?" he commented.
"Yes it is." She glanced over at Seth and Summer, who were sitting on the floor, looking cozy draped beneath a single blanket. He was speaking in a low voice, one that only she could hear and every so often, the air was punctuated with her laughter. "Do you think they're in love?"
Sam raised an eyebrow as he looked briefly at the couple, then back at her. "I don't know."
She smiled, starting to feel a little drowsy. "I think they are." She held his gaze and gathered up her courage, trying to ignore the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. "Sam, do you like me?"
"Yeah, of course I do."
It was déjà vu, all right. She found herself repeating Summer's question. "No, I mean do you like me?"
"Uh..."
She watched as he pondered the question, looking perplexed. She tried to be patient but he was taking entirely too long to answer. Embarrassed, wanting to throw herself into the fire, she attempted to crawl out of the hole she'd dug for herself. "It's okay, Sam. Never mind."
"No, no, I...oh, hell," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
With a flicker of hope, she unconsciously mimicked his action as he leaned forward. "I do. I've liked you for a long time."
A thrill shot through her from head to toe at his confession. "Really? For how long?"
"Since ninth grade."
"But..." She paused, searching her memory. "I didn't know you in ninth grade. Not until..."
He finished the sentence for her. "Not until I joined the decathlon team. I know." He leaned even closer, until their faces were mere inches apart. "And do you know why I joined the team?"
Mesmerized by the depths of his eyes, she shook her head. But somehow, she knew what the answer would be before he even said it. "Because of you, Laura."
As her gaze flickered to his lips, she marvelled at how perfectly formed they were. With that silly thought in her head, her eyes closed as she felt those lips press against her own. So soft. So sweet. Her pulse throbbed in a heady beat and she found herself breathless. Or maybe that was just the effect of the kiss.
When they parted, she honoured him with her own confession. "I like you too, Sam. Very much."
And she was rewarded by a smile.
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"...And then Captain Oats, with Princess Sparkle at his side, galloped into the sunset to live happily ever after. The end."
Summer yawned and then smiled up at Seth. "I loved that. Tell me another one."
"You look ready to fall asleep on me. Shouldn't we call it a night?"
"Don't make me beg, Cohen."
He chuckled, amused that she was enjoying his ramblings so much. "Okay, how about a different pairing. Princess Sparkle and Spiderman?"
"Ew!" she protested, with a wrinkle of her nose. "I don't think so. Besides, we should at least keep it within the same species."
"Hmm...good point. The Black Stallion, then?"
She pondered that possibility. "Yeah, not bad. But there's no, you know, physical Black Stallion, is there? Isn't he just a character in a book?"
"That's the best I've got right now."
"Let's just stick with Captain Oats. I like him best."
"Okay." He could live with that. Princess Sparkle shouldn't go messing around with superheroes anyway. They just didn't understand the real Sparkle the way the Captain did.
Pulling up the blanket a little higher around Summer's shoulders, Seth began with the classic line, "Once upon a time..."
A/N: Once again, thank you for the reviews. A special thanks to FriendsFan3 for the proper French translation. I probably won't bother to correct it here but certainly will before I post it on my own site.