Leave The City (Book 8 of Adopted by the Josephs)

77. Tyler

Having Sam home for a week was great. She fell in love with Tommy immediately (who wouldn't?) and hardly put him down unless Rosie or Junie wanted to 'hold' him. Or Jenna was feeding him.

"How are things going?" I asked her one afternoon as we played some basketball in the back yard.

"Not bad," she said. "You know. School, tests, assignments."

"Is it harder than here?" I asked.

"No," Sam said, lining up a shot and sinking a three pointer.  "The work isn't hard. There's just so much of it."

"Are you having trouble keeping up?" I asked. Since Sam's two head injuries and a host of other issues, I worried about her ability to keep up academically. Her grades hadn't suffered but I don't want her any more stressed than she needs to be.

"No. I mean, I got everything done before coming home, so I don't have anything waiting for when I go back. It's just, it's been a lot of work. But it's okay. I can handle it," she smiled. The smile reached her eyes, so I knew she was okay.

"Sam, how are things with you and Dylan?" I asked. She hadn't said much about him since coming home. I know Jenna spoke with her at some point, but I had barely heard his name.

Sam stopped dribbling the ball, held it and looked down at the court.

"Sam?" I asked, worried they'd broken up and I had t heard.

"He's okay. He's good," she said. There was something in her voice that made me scrutinize her a little closer.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything, Sam. You know that."

She sighed.

"It's okay. I talked to Mom and Aunt Sarah. And Uncle B," she said.

"But not me?" I asked. She looked up at me with a slight frown on her face.

"For starters, you're my dad. I don't know how you'd feel about some of it. And Uncle Brendon only knows because he walked in when I was talking to Aunt Sarah. It's nothing. Not really."

She started bouncing the ball again. I took it from her and held it under my arm.

"Samantha Joseph, something is bothering you and I don't want to pry, but I'm also your dad and I worry about you. I need to know you're safe," I said.

"Safety isn't the issue," Samantha said, more mumbling than anything.

"Then what is it?" I asked.

She took a deep breath.

"It's prom," she said. "He suggested getting a hotel room after the dance. And I can't help but think that he wants... and that makes me worry. What if he's like Tristan?"

I saw tears come to her eyes. This was something I really couldn't fix. And I hated that. What Tristan had done to Samantha, stealing her innocence. The last shred of innocence that was hers alone, and he'd taken it from her. And had shown absolutely no remorse. It made my blood boil.

"Sam," I said, pulling her into my arms and dropping the basketball. "I can't take that worry from you. I know. All I can say, though, is that I am confident Dylan is nothing like Tristan. Has he done or said anything otherwise?"

She shook her head against my shoulder.

I sighed. I wanted to tell her what Dylan had told me. Both what he planned for graduation and beyond. But also that he knows what Tristan did. But that's not for me to tell her. And it's something she might have to tell him at some point. Or should.