I'm Sorry (Not Really)

Chapter Eleven

Like wind,         

You slipped through my fingers.

Like water,

You left me cold.

Where'd you go?

If you were ever here at all?

~A. F.

     I followed the pathway to where he was sitting, the evening had a cold twinge to it, making it almost unpleasant but not quite. The wind was still, and the animals of the night had just started rustling in the park bushes and trees.

          "Hey," I said as I walked up to Sam. His head snapped up and he briefly met my gaze before his eyes darted away. I sat next to him as he murmured a quiet 'hey'. He stared down at his hands so I took one of the scones out of the bag and offered it to him. He looked at me questioningly and I raised an eyebrow until he finally took it and gnawed on it like a bunny. He held the still-warm pastry in his hands and watched the trees as they swayed ever so slightly from the light breeze that had picked up. We sat in silence for a few minutes, each of us eating a scone before Samuel spoke.

          "I'm sorry."

          I looked at him surprised, "For what?"

          He inhaled, "I had no right to be mad at you. I shouldn't have hugged you without asking and I need to respect that you will choose who you want to hug even if that isn't me. It's not my body." His gaze darted upward to glance at me then went right back to watching the trees, which were getting harder and harder to see by the minute.

          "I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have ignored you after the fact. I wasn't upset that you hugged me, just surprised," I spoke slowly and carefully. Sam's shoulders sagged in what I assume to be relief that I wasn't upset with him.

          He spoke, "Thank you for the scone..." The shadows obscured his downward turned face and he held the half-eaten scone in his lap.

          "I remembered that your mom used to make them and I saw them on the way so it's not a big deal, I doubt they're as good as the ones your mom makes though." I leaned over slightly, to try to see his expression. My eyes caught the movement of his hands, ever so slight but they were shaking.

          His voice shook, "I- uh... No- no, nothing is like how she ma..." slowly his voice got softer and softer until he wasn't speaking at all. We never really talked about his life in Ireland, every once in while a story or two would come into the conversation, like the scone one, but times like that were rare. Something is obviously wrong concerning the topic of his life in Ireland or his mom, maybe and most likely both.

          "Sam? What's wrong?" I reached out without thinking and placed my hand on his arm. He sank down and let out a broken breath, holding back tears. "You don't have to tell me but I want to help..." For the second time that day, I watched him completely break down in sobs.

          My heart contracted and I pulled him into a hug, his hands gripped my sleeves as if they were a lifeline. I held him as he sobbed, watching the area around us become darker and darker. The moon was not high enough yet to provide any light and the street lamps were broken in this part of the park so it was almost pitch black with only the stars light. He cried until he couldn't anymore, and even then he continued to dry sob.

          I laid my head on his shoulder and rubbed circles into his back until his breathing calmed and I almost thought he had fallen asleep.

          "I- I'm sorry about that," his voice wavered from the strain it had been through.

          "It's alright, do you want to talk about it?" He let go of me then, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his eyes.

          "Whether I want to talk about it or not," he took a shaky breath, "I can't." I nodded, understanding, and not blaming him.

          "That's alright. Know if I need to, I can keep a secret." He didn't nod or even acknowledge what I had said.

          "I need to get back, it's late and I'll be in trouble if I don't get back soon." We both stood, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" I gave him a small smile.

          "Course, I'll be waiting for you in the usual spot." I just barely saw his fingers twitch at his side from the darkness.

          "Night," he whispered before heading off in the opposite direction that I would be going. I watched his shadowing figure as he got less and less defined.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

          The next day, I went to school as usual. Usually, Samuel is there before me due to his big host family with all younger kids. Today he wasn't so I texted him.

You: Where are you? Delivered Ten Minutes Ago

          After ten minutes, he didn't respond and the bell rang. All throughout the day, he didn't show up, no one acted like it was odd. But then again, why would they? All of them didn't like Samuel for some odd reason, they made fun of him for being Irish, not that that makes any sense to me. At the end of the day, I went to the office.

          "Mr. Lownell, did Samuel Ryan call in sick today?" I asked in my politest voice. Mr. Lownell is one of the oldest staff members at this school, he remembers every student that has passed through the office doors, no one knows how but he does. He's a tall and thin guy, with his hair thinning on top and almost completely white. His face looks like its been pinched inward, the nose too small and the eyes too big, the mouth a combination of the two.  

          The old dolt looked at me in confusion, "I don't know any student by that name, and certainly that person did not call in today."

          I pursed my lips slightly, "The Irish student, red hair, pale skin." Mr. Lownell shook his head as he typed something into his computer.

          "There's no student with that name in the school." My eyes widened and my jaw dropped slightly with disbelief.

          "What?! There has to be!" I felt myself getting hysterical and tried to calm myself down but none of this made any sense. He shook his head and turned the monitor so I could see it, indeed, when he searched the name 'Samuel Ryan' there was no result.

          "I'm sorry but I'd like to go home soon, I'm not sure who this person is but he doesn't go here Mr. eh... Grendal."

          "I must have heard him wrong then, thank you for your time." I spun on my heels and walked out, fists clenched.

          What the hell? It's like he suddenly doesn't exist anymore... like he was all in my head.

          I let out a shuddering breath and shook those thoughts away, you can't text someone who was all in your head, and other people saw and spoke to him too. Without realizing it I had walked back to the last place I saw him. I let myself relive the memory and remembered something I had brushed off earlier.

          Sam went the opposite way I did as we parted last night! Which means he went deeper into the park, and if I remember correctly there's no exit out that way, why did he go deeper into the park instead of going home? And where is he now?