The Outsider

Part 10

As the night dragged on and the bar grew quieter, Nate and Serena finally decided to call it. They exchanged brief goodbyes, Nate giving me a half-hearted pat on the shoulder, Serena offering me a lingering glance that I didn't know how to interpret. I waved them off without much effort, sinking back into my drink.

Then, it was just me and Samantha.

She didn't leave. I could feel her presence, steady and patient, in the seat next to me. She wasn't one to keep quiet for long, though. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, she turned to me, her eyes searching mine.

"So, you're really not going to talk about it, huh?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and frustration.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "What's there to talk about, Samantha? You already know how I am. You know what I think about... everything." I motioned vaguely around the bar as if that explained my entire worldview. "It's all pointless."

"That's not true, and you know it," she replied, leaning forward, her gaze intense. "You're not just some guy who drinks away his problems. You're more than that, Alex, but you can't keep burying everything."

I chuckled bitterly. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't get it."

She narrowed her eyes, her voice growing firmer. "Maybe I don't get everything, but I know you. I know you're not the monster you try to pretend to be."

I felt something stir inside me at her words. I hated that she saw through me, hated that she believed in something that didn't exist. But I couldn't bring myself to snap at her. Instead, I took another sip of my drink, avoiding her gaze.

"You should just go, Samantha," I muttered. "I'm not good company."

She didn't budge. "I'm not going anywhere, Alex. You can't keep pushing people away every time things get hard."

I shot her a sideways glance, annoyed but too tired to argue. "Why do you care so much?"

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe because I know what it's like to feel lost. To feel like nothing makes sense anymore." Her voice softened, and for the first time that night, I heard a hint of vulnerability in her tone. "I don't want you to go down the same road I did."

For a moment, I was quiet. Her words cut through the haze of alcohol clouding my mind. I didn't want to admit it, but part of me knew she was right. I wasn't dealing with anything, I was just running from it. And Samantha, of all people, could see that.

"Fine," I said finally, pushing my glass away. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't need you to say anything," she replied, her voice gentle. "I just need you to stop running."

Her words hung in the air between us, heavy but real. And for the first time in a long time, I felt something stir, something other than anger or bitterness.

Maybe, just maybe, I wasn't completely lost.

Samantha glanced down at her drink, swirling the liquid slowly before taking a deep breath. She didn't answer right away, her eyes distant as if she was gathering her thoughts. Finally, she looked up at me, her expression a mix of frustration and longing.

"Why do I want to leave Staten Island?" she repeated, almost to herself, before meeting my gaze. 

"Because there's nothing for me there, Alex. It's suffocating. It's like... no matter how much I try, I'm stuck in this loop of mediocrity, and it's killing me."

I didn't say anything. I just listened.

She leaned forward, her voice growing more intense. "People there, they're content with small lives. They don't care about leaving or becoming something more. They settle. And every day, I feel like I'm becoming one of them. It's like there's this mold, and if you don't fit into it, you're an outsider. I don't want that for myself."