Oh Ms Believer

63. Tyler

Samantha and I played ball for a little while before I asked her what was on her mind. She stopped trying to block me and looked at me.

And then the dam burst and she just started crying so hard. I ran up to her and wrapped her in a hug. She clung to me and cried and cried. I just held her as he body shook, wracked with sobs and sorrow. I wasn't sure what precipitated this, but I would be here for her.

When her tears and sobs slowed, I walked her over to the bench beside the court and sat her down.

"Dad?" She said.

"Yeah, Sam?" I replied.

"Why does it hurt so much?" She asked.

"Why does what hurt?" I asked, worriedly.

"Losing friends. We planned Blaine's birthday today. I feel so guilty that he died protecting me. Everyone says he's a hero, and I agree, but why did he do it?"

"Why did he do what? Protect you? Because he loved you. You were like a sister to him. He didn't want you to get hurt. He didn't want you to die," I said. I didn't know if it was the right  thing to say.

No one talks about the aftermath. No one tells you how to help your teenager be a school shooting survivor. And certainly no one talks about how to help your teenager process her friend dying to protect her.

"It hurts so much, Dad. I miss him so, so much. I don't even want to go for dinner for his birthday anymore," she said.

"But you're the one who planned it. I think it's a great thing you're doing," I said.

"Should I invite his parents? Or his sister?" Samantha sniffled.

"That would be a lovely gesture," I said. "Don't feel bad if they say no, but that is a very sweet thought."

Samantha nodded.

"Sam, did you have a snack?" Jenna called out from above us on the back patio.  Samantha nodded on my shoulder.

"That's affirmative, Captain!" I called up to Jenna.

"Weirdo," she called back at me. "Dinner will be ready at six. You two going to shower first?"

I looked down at Samantha leaning on me, an occasional hiccup interrupting her otherwise even breathing.

"You ready for dinner?" I asked her, my arm around her.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess."

I smiled. She was talking to us about what made her sad. A far cry from September when we wound up having to hospitalize her.

"Are you okay at school? Or are you still hearing and seeing things?" I asked.

"I'm okay. Sometimes, when I'm in that hallway, I hear things or smell things. But it's okay. I know it's not real. It's just that hallway."

I pulled her closer to me and smiled to myself. Hopefully she was starting to heal some more.

"Have you talked to Doc about Blaine?" I asked. She nodded.

"I feel so guilty still, Dad. And I don't know how to feel better. How am I supposed to 'feel better' about my friend basically, well literally, throwing themself in front of a bullet. For me. Why did he do it?"

She started crying again. I didn't say anything just then. I just let her cry. When she slowed down I spoke.

"Blaine was a special guy. He cared so deeply for you and your friends. Just like you care for your friends. Would you have protected Blaine if the roles were reversed?" I asked her.

She sat up and stared ahead. She was thinking.

"Yeah," she said. "I would have. For any of them."

I smiled.

"And Blaine clearly felt the same way. And I think it's great and thoughtful that you're going to celebrate his birthday. He was an important part of your life. And because of him, you're still here with us. I know you're sad. I know it hurts. I know you struggle with everything since June. But Sam, it's okay to be sad, scared, whatever. Your feelings are completely normal and valid. I'm just glad you're talking to us about them. And I'm sorry it's not something easily fixed. I wish I could take all the pain, fear, sadness and uncertainty away and you could live a happy, carefree life."

Sam sighed.

"Thanks to you and Mom, I do get to live to experience this. It does suck, though," she said.

"Yeah. It does. I'm sorry it happened."

"I wish I could go back to that day and stop him," Sam said.

"Don't think me insensitive, but Sam, how exactly would you have done that? He shot the teacher who tried."

"Maybe he would have listened to me," Sam said, wistfully.

"Samantha, I don't think you would have been able to stop him. Not because you aren't a good person or someone with a ton of empathy and compassion, but I think Kyle was determined enough to do what he did. I was so terrified we'd lost you while we were waiting for any information on what was happening. What had happened."

Samantha leaned against me again but was silent.

"Daddy! Sammy! Mama says come eat dinner now or she's gibing it to Jim!"

"One, we should probably head in. Two, I would love to see her pack up dinner and take it to Josh's to give to Jim."

Samantha laughed a little and honestly, at that moment, it was the sweetest sound in the world. Samantha has a great laugh. It had been harder to come by since June.

"Well, Mom makes food that is way too good for a mere dog," she said. I smiled.

The two of us got up and Samantha stumbled a little.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, grabbing her elbow.

"Yeah. Didn't balance myself before getting up and tried to put my weight on the leg that isn't controlled by my brain," she grinned at me.

"Smartass," I said.

The two of us went up to the stairs to the porch and into the kitchen.

"Sama!" Junie screeched.

"Hello cutest baby," she said.

"I cutest baby!" Rosie insisted.

"You were the cutest baby," Samantha said. "Now you're the cutest toddler."

Rosie seemed to contemplate that for a minute, nodded and hugged Samantha.

"You the cutest Samantha," she said. Samantha smiled down at her sister.

"But there are thousands of Samanthas," Samantha said, lifting her sister up and putting her in her booster chair at the table.

"But you the cutest," Rosie insisted.

Samantha kissed her sister and thanked her. Then she came over and helped Jenna and I bring dinner to the table.

I kept glancing at Samantha to make sure she was eating. We'd noticed when she's holding in things, she stops eating. But I watched as she calculated her insulin, bolused and then tucked into her dinner. She wasn't chatty, but she was talking, and she was eating. She had been open about how she was feeling and that was a good sign.