Something About Sam

Chapter 22

I wasn't crying when I spent an hour and a half after practice pacing in my dorm room thinking about all the things I was going to say to Sam when I called him that night.

I wasn't crying, thinking about what I was going to do to him. How I was going to break him.

But at 11:30 that night, after Boone promised to give me an hour alone as he left for the library, when I dialed Sam's number from memory and he picked up on the second ring breathing out my name in a long, painfully slow, deep, and utterly beautiful, "Taite Jefferson, finally," I broke down into tears.

"Taite! Are you crying, love?"

I couldn't answer him. I was sobbing like a newborn, barely able to stand up. Everything in me felt like it was splitting in two, just from the sound of his voice saying my name. Everything I had planned to say to him had been vacuumed sealed into a corner of my brain I couldn't access. The only thing my lips could do was utter his name.

"Oh, Taite, what's wrong babe? Oh god, I knew something was the matter. I knew you hadn't called in a week but Sarah said you were fine, you were just busy with school and footie but oh my god something is wrong, I should have flown out sooner.... I'm booking the next flight and I'll be there by morning, Taite." Unable to speak, to tell him no, don't come---I cried harder. "Oh love. Please don't cry... I can't stand to hear you cry. Taite, it's all going to be okay, I'll fix it. I'll fix whatever it is. I promise."

"Sam," my voice sounded horribly shattered and damp with tears, but it was there. Finally. "Sam, stop. Don't come here."

He breathed deeply on the other line. I had gathered myself enough to speak through my cries, and no doubt he was beginning to hear something besides sadness that ebbed at my tone. "Taite? Tell me what's happening. Why are you crying? Did I do something?"

"I..." I swallowed back the massive lump in my throat. "I've been thinking about things, Sam." When he didn't respond straight away, I added "Things about us."

Sam's voice was quiet, once he finally responded. "Well that's never a good thing to hear."

I sighed. Tears were still leaking from my eyes, but I was in more control. "Sam... I didn't want to have this conversation over the phone. But it would be stupid for you to come here just for..." I let the rest of the sentence fall off and hang in the air, my mouth frozen in the shape of the rest of the words. For me to break up with you.

"You're breaking up with me, right?" He was egging me on. His voice was strained, but it had a clear edge. "That's what people say when they're through with you, right?"

"Sam, things aren't what I thought they would be."

He snorted. "You mean I'm not what you thought I would be." His voice had begun to waver. He was losing it.

"No, Sam," I rubbed my temple. Nothing was going the way I planned for it to go. Words were jumbling in my head and thoughts were turning into dust. Memories and images of Sam were screwing with my logical explanation that I had planned out. I had lost all my sense. "You... you're perfect. You're anything and everything I could ever want, Sam. You know that. You know how I feel about you."

"Do I?" He shook, along with his words. "We haven't talked in weeks, Taite. For all I know, you've probably met some bloke who plays football and has a good hair and kisses you in all the right places and is there when I'm not there." He took a shaky deep breath in. I was crying again. "Fuck," He swore. "You've probably fucked him, too. Haven't you?"

"Sam, stop," I sounded weak, again. Out of control. I was out of control, off my plan. "You know that's not true. I've been in school or playing football, and when I'm not doing homework, I'm doing you over the phone."

I was met with silence. I gripped the bridge of my nose and started speaking again. "Sam, it's not you. It's not the fact that you're thousands of miles away from me. We're used to that, aren't we? I wouldn't replace you. Not for a second," I paused, but he stayed silent. "It's the crap I'm getting. It's all the attention. It's my face on the Late Show and my mom calling to ask me when I'll finally tell her I'm gay—and I don't even know if I am! Did you know, some girl in my history class asked how you are in bed? And kids from the soccer team called me Sam Ford's fag yesterday so Boone punched one of them and almost got suspended from football for it." I paused again, mostly for myself and my lack of oxygen. But Sam was still silent. "You know how I feel about you, Sam. You do know. And I'm always going to be your best friend. No matter what. But I can't take this crap, Sam. I didn't sign up to be a celebrity, you did. But somehow I'm paying the price. And I can't take it, Sam. I'm sorry. But I can't."

"Why haven't you told me any of this?" He was whispering, but he didn't need to.

"What could you have done?" I was raising my voice. "And you were what was causing it, anyway. In all honesty, Sam, I was pissed. I am pissed."

"I didn't make any of those people do any of those things!"

"Yeah you didn't! But you talked about me on the Late Show. You post Instagrams and tweets and you don't care how they'll affect me. And it's not like you can just rewind and take them back. They've been out there. People have seen them. And now they know me. And you can't do anything about it. You can't fix this."

"Taite, I can fix it." He spoke with more resolve. "I'll give an interview and I'll say I'm dating Lena, I can fix it, I can fix anything that's bothering you." He breathed deeply, then lowered his voice to a key he knew would make my eyes roll. "I'll do anything for you."

I felt myself shaking my head, despite the fact he couldn't see me. "I don't want you dragging anyone else into this, Sam. I'm sorry."

"Taite," he was clearly crying, now. "Don't do this. Please, Taite. Don't leave me. I just got you, I can't let you go."

I closed my eyes, but it didn't stop the tears from coming. "I'm sorry, Sam. I really am."

"Please, Jefferson," I could hear him sobbing. He wouldn't be able to speak for much longer. I tried to ignore how much my heart hurt, but I honestly couldn't. The pain was a dagger, slowly twisting more and more with each word he choked. "I'll do anything to keep you. Taite. Don't do this."

"I'll call later this week, Sam," I forced myself to stay steady. One of us had to be. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not your boyfriend anymore, but I'm still your best friend."

He cried and cried, but I couldn't get myself to hang up the phone. It was like a car wreck that was bloody and gruesome, yet you couldn't take your eyes off it.

"Taite?"

"Sam."

"That's the first time you've called me your boyfriend."

I closed my eyes again. I needed to hang up, or both of us were going to be absurd, sobbing bodies that really only needed each other. "I'll call later, Sam. Bye."