Heart Bones(77)

“But what if he’s exactly who I think he is?”

My father takes my right hand and holds it between both of his. He looks so sincere, staring at me with such raw honesty. “If Samson is the person you think he is, what do you think he would want for you? Do you think he would want you to give up everything you’ve worked for?” I look away from my father, toward the sunrise. I’m holding all my feelings in my throat.

“I love you, Beyah. Enough to admit that you’ve been let down by too many people in your life. Me being one of them. The only person who has ever been completely loyal to you is you. You’re doing yourself a disservice by not putting yourself first right now.”

I lean forward and hold my head in my hands. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know that’s what Samson wants—for me to put myself before him. I just don’t want him to want that for me.

My father rubs his hand over my back, and the feeling is so soothing, I lean into him, wrapping my arms around him. He hugs me back, running a gentle hand over my head.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers. “I wish I could take that pain away from you.”

It does hurt. It’s fucking brutal. It isn’t fair. I finally have something good in my life and now I’m being forced to leave it behind.

They’re right, though. Everyone is right but me. I need to put myself first. It’s what I’ve always done and it’s worked for me so far.

I think about the letter Samson wrote to me, and that last line that got caught up in my heart. Go flood the whole goddamn world, Beyah.

I inhale a gulp of the salty morning air, knowing I won’t get very many more of them before I leave for Pennsylvania. “Will you take care of Pepper Jack Cheese while I’m gone?”

My father sighs with relief. “Of course I will.” He presses a soft kiss into my hair. “I love you, Beyah.”

There’s so much truth in his words, and for the first time, I allow myself to believe him.

This is the moment I release it all. Every single thing from my childhood that’s made my heart so heavy.

I release my anger toward my father.

I even release my anger toward my mother.

The only thing I’m going to hold on to from this point forward are the good things.

I may not be ending the summer with Samson by my side, but I’m ending it with something I didn’t have when I showed up here.

A family.





THIRTY


My roommate is a girl from Los Angeles. Her name is Cierra with a C.

We get along okay, but I’m trying to stay focused on school and volleyball, so I haven’t hung out with her outside of our dorm room. Other than when we’re both in here doing homework or sleeping, I don’t see her much. It’s weird how I lived across the hall from Sara for a summer and saw her more than I see the person living in the same room with me now.

I miss Sara, even though we text every day. So do my father and I.

None of us discuss Samson, though. Not since that morning I decided to come to Pennsylvania. I need everyone to believe that I’ve moved on, but I’m not sure how to. I think about him all the time. I’ll see something or hear something and feel an intense need to tell him about it. But I can’t because he’s made sure to cut off any form of communication I could have with him.

I wrote him one letter and it was returned to me. I cried that entire afternoon, but decided not to write him after that.

His court hearing was this morning. Based on all the charges, he’s looking at several years of potential prison time. I’ve been waiting by my phone all day for a phone call from Kevin.

That’s all I’ve been doing. Staring at my phone. Waiting. I finally get tired of it and dial Kevin’s number. I know he said he’d call me after Samson’s sentencing, but maybe he got held up. I look behind me to make sure Cierra is still in the shower and then sit up straight on my bed when Kevin answers.

“I was about to call you.”

“What happened?”

Kevin sighs, and I feel all the weight of Samson’s sentence in that sigh. “Good news and bad news. We were able to get the breaking and entering charges downgraded to trespassing. But they wouldn’t budge on the arson charge because of the security footage.”

My arm is wrapped tightly around my stomach. “How long, Kevin?”

“Six years. But he’ll likely get out in four.”

I press my hand to my forehead and drop my head between my shoulders. “Why so long? That’s so long.”

“It could have been much worse. He was facing ten years for the arson alone. Had he not already violated parole in the past, he probably would have been slapped on the wrist. But this isn’t his first offense, Beyah.”

“But did you explain to the judge why he violated parole? He had no money. How can they expect people to pay parole fees when they have no money?”

“I know it’s not the news you wanted, but it’s better than it could have been.”

I’m so upset. I honestly didn’t think he would be sentenced to that much time. “Rapists get less time than he did. What is wrong with our judicial system?”

“Everything. You’re in college. Maybe you should become a lawyer and do something about it.”

Maybe I will. I haven’t declared a major yet and nothing pisses me off more than thinking of all the people who fell through the cracks. “What prison are they sending him to?”