Page 62 of Surviving the Merge
Sam gave a dismissive wave to my words and graced me with a look that asked,Are you dumb?
“Please, Justin. No one cannotbe your friend once they get to know you. That’s why Damon didn’t ever want anyone getting to know you. You’re already atI’ll never let you gostatus with me.” She shrugged at my unconvinced look. “I give it a couple more days before loser Max gets off his high horse and comes begging. But enough about him. Tell me more about this community center.” She crossed her legs and leaned forward with the most brilliant and eager smile. I kissed her forehead and dove right in.
Afterwards, she said “I want in. Can I be a part of this?” She bounced in her seat.
I’d told her all about the center, and she got it. She got how important the work was; she understood the mission. Of course she wanted to join in. Sam had a big heart.
“They’re always looking for more volunteers. What would you do, though? How do you see yourself contributing?”
She hesitated, turning shy, picking the lint off her lint-free top. “I, um… I paint. I’m an artist. I actually have my first exhibition next week.” She squared her shoulders, preparing for me to scoff at her.
“Oh, you’ve never mentioned that before,” I said, while thinking back on past conversations.
“It never really came up.” She avoided eye contact.
I forced her chin up. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s the real reason you’ve never told me?”
After struggling with the decision to either gaslight me or tell the truth, she went with honesty. “Because you’ve got so much going on in your life, and if I told you, then I’d have to possibly face the reality that you might not have time to…”
“Be there for you?” I finished for her.
“Yeah.” Her lips barely moved as she whispered the word.
“Sam.” I ran my hands through her curls affectionately. “You need to give me a fair opportunity to be a friend. This can’t be one-sided. I need you to promise me that you won’t hold back. Please, let me be here for you.”
“It’s those damn eyes. They get everyone every time, don’t they?”
I raised my eyebrows, and she shielded her face. “And don’t do that. It only makes them wider. Jesus, okay, okay, I promise. Now turn those things off.” She giggled and fell sideways as I poked her in the ribs.
I made a mental note not to wait for her to open up to me. I had to pay better attention and be actively there for her. Ask the right questions. I wasn’t the only one dealing with residual trauma, and Sam’s caused her to believe that if she was too much of a bother, then people wouldn't want to be bothered with her. As early as just a few weeks ago, I would have beaten myself up for a moment like this. For not being a better friend. I would’ve thought I needed to have it all figured out already and that any sign of failure meant I’d never get it right. But as the minutes, hours, days, and weeks passed by, I began to understand more of what Blake meant when he said the fun was in the journey, not the destination. I was learning, and I still had a long way to go, but the ride would be the thing to shape me into who I was always meant to be.
“So, what day is the showing—”
“Exhibit—”
“Same thing—”
“Except it’s not—”
“Sam!”
She keeled over with laughter.
“Are you fucking with me?” I asked.
“You make it too easy,” she choked out, tears of mirth running down her face.
* * *
Later that evening,I stood outside the patio door observing the sunset and the group of people sitting in Max’s backyard in front of a fire pit.The Misfits.They’d been out there for over an hour now, and from the looks of it, the last person had the baton.
Sam came up beside me and asked, “That’s why you didn’t want to paint your room black?”
“Huh?” I asked, looking down at her.
“At the furniture store, when you were paying for the beds, I suggested you paint the apartment bedroom black. You shot the suggestion down. Because it reminded you of the all-black room where you were—you know.”
“Yeah, it did.” My gaze returned to the gathering in Max’s backyard.
