The Summer I Learned to Breathe

fourteen

☼ fourteen ☼

Sam drove me home after we finished our ice cream. When we got back, we decided to enjoy some time together on the dock as I didn't want to spend time alone inside the house; I'm quite positive my father and Marie are the only ones home.

We held hands while we walked through the tall grass that desperately needs to be cut, and we gently swung our hands back and forth. I wasn't quite sure what to think of us holding hands, but I just assumed it was a friendly gesture.

We hadn't spoken much since we relaxed at the end of the dock, and I find myself relaxing as the minutes pass by. We're just sitting here in silence with our legs dangling off the edge of the dock and our feet barely touching the surface of the water. I kick my feet around a few times, and I observe the distrubance I create in the water.

After a few minutes, I change my position; I bring my legs up to my chest and wrap arms around them, resting my head on my knees and staring out across the lake water. It's now dark out, and I struggle to spot the docks on the opposite side of the lake. I can see fireflies dancing around the trees, and they look like shimmering stars. The moon is full, and it's reflecting on the surface in such a beautiful way that I can't stop staring at it. 

The air is slightly sticky and humid as a result of thunderstorms earlier in the day. I'm assuming it will storm more overnight, and I hope it does so tomorrow's temperature is more cool and dry.

"Are you ok?" Sam asks, and I assume he's again referring to the incident that occurred on the fourth. I didn't talk about it too much while we were eating our ice cream, and I don't blame him for asking me about it again. He knows I'm bothered by the situation, and he probably figures I'll eventually open up if he keeps asking me about it.

He knows I was just thinking about my dad as I stared into the distance. I glance at him, and I can spot the sympathy swimming in his eyes. I really don't want the looks he's giving me. "I don't want to talk about it," I reply. I tilt my head down to focus on my arms gripping my legs, and I twist a friendship bracelet around my arm over and over again just to give myself something to do. Now that Sam mentioned the incident from the other night, I can't seem to shake the event from replaying in my head. I don't even notice Sam scoot closer to me until he nudges my shoulder. I lift my stare into his eyes, and he sends me a worried expression. I know he wants me to tell him what happened, but I don't want to acknowledge it; I'd much rather keep it to myself and try to act like it never happened.

He releases a light sigh when I turn away from him and face the lake. "You can't keep pushing me away." I bite my lip, and I refuse to look at him because I'm afraid he'll break down my walls and I'll start venting about everything. "I know he scared you, and I'm sure you're feeling extremely confused because he hasn't been like that before." I stare away from the moving surface of the water, and I look down at the rough, wooden dock. I move one of my arms, reaching my hand out and gently running a finger over a crack and tracing its path.

I inhale sharply, and I return my attention to his concerned expression. "You sound like this isn't your first rodeo with this kind of crap," I say, focusing my eyes on the freckles that scatter his cheeks.

"It's not." I'm frustrated when he doesn't elaborate further, and I realize that's how I've been making him feel.

"I know he's been a mess for the past year, but I never thought he'd go to that level," I whisper, focusing on the peaceful lake again. "Even though things have improved with him since that incident, I'm still afraid he's actually going to hit Gabe or myself sometime."

Sam's quiet, and for a minute I believe that he just doesn't know what to say. I'm disappointed because I finally opened up a little bit, and I need for him to say something reassuring. Thankfully I don't remain disappointed with him; he only hesitates before opening his mouth. "You know Marley, I've learned that you can't control what happens to you, but you can control how you react. If your dad hasn't been abusive, I doubt he ever will. But if he would, you're definitely strong enough to know how to handle it and distance yourself from him." I nod. "No one should ever take crap from someone else, and I know you don't take any crap." I appreciate his insight, and I think he has a point. His words are similar to what my mom once told me. It's probably in Gabe's and my best interest to keep him away from alcohol, though.