I'm Sorry (Not Really)

Chapter Twelve

We wish for what we've never known,

We see what we don't understand,

We live what someone else dreams.

Wish for what you'll never have,

That's what'll make you complete.

Achieve, then restart.

~A. F.

          I went to Sam's host house once to study, I think I'd remember the way if I tried hard enough. Or I could just look back at our texts and see when he sent me his address. I'd have to wait until my mom left me alone in my room to 'study' since I'm still grounded to my room. Hopefully, that wouldn't be too long since it'd be odd for me to show up at their house late.

          When I was finally confident that I could leave without being caught it was nearly five, so not too late. To his house from mine, it's about a thirty-minute walk, I would drive but a, I don't want to be caught and b, I don't have a license.

          Samuel's host family's house was a neat, red brick two-story. The gardens were meticulous and it was obvious that someone in the household put time and effort into the beauty of them. The grass was green and almost all the windows of the house were lit up with a warm honey glow. You could tell young children lived there by the bikes scattered in the yard and the balls tossed haphazardly around all over the place. It looked like a home of fun and love, and from what I've seen, it is.

          Not only do they have a few children by birth but they are also fostering to adopt as well as being a host family for Samuel, and somehow they never forget about anyone and always have enough love to go around. It could make any outsider jealous, and I have to admit, from seeing the way Sam's host family treats him just like he was any one of their actual children, it makes me wonder why my own family can't do that with me when I actually am their child. I've had years to get used to and over it, and for the most part, I have. But the same part of me that wants Samuel around, wishes that I had memories that I could look back on and smile about as Sam can.

          It doesn't matter though. You can't change the past and I can't change who I am or who my family is.

          I followed the stone path to the porch and knocked on the white-painted door. You could hear the sounds of children playing as someone, an older woman most likely, called out 'I'll get it!' and footsteps neared the door.

          The door opened and Samuel's host mom, Maria, poked her head out, "Hello? How can I help you?" Maria was a short, dark-skinned woman. Her black hair was chopped off at her shoulders, the ends dyed a dark purple, so dark it almost blended in with the natural black of her hair. Her eyes are brown, almost black and her face is rounded with a little touch of rose always in her cheeks and nose, making her look quite young. Once, I asked Sam how he liked it here and the first thing he mentioned was how Maria always had a smile and some sort of treat to give out.

          I smiled politely, "I'm Samuel's friend, Thomas. Samuel wasn't at school today and I was wondering if he was okay?" Maria's face contorted in confusion, her eyebrows knitting together.

          "I'm sorry Mr. Thomas but I think you have the wrong house..."

          I recoiled slightly from shock but pressed on, "I- but, I came here once with him to study?" Someone from inside the house, most likely the oldest child of the house who was only a year younger than us, asked who was at the door. Maria ignored the question and shook her head slightly.

          She bristled as she spoke, "I do not know Samuel, you must be thinking of a different house, I'm sorry. Have a good day." She then shut the door without waiting for me to respond. I stood for a few moments, staring at the door in front of me before turning and walking down the steps of the porch.

          Why would she act like she didn't know who Samuel was? Did he tell her to? He wasn't on the school list either.. Did he lie about his name then? And if so, why?

          "Hey! You!" Someone called from behind me, I jumped and turned around. A short boy who looked about my age was running out of the house, barefoot. He was carrying his shoes and only had his socks on, he had one arm through his jacket and was tripping over himself on the way down the steps. I watched him as he made his way over to me panting.

          "Hey?" I questioned.

          He nodded and grinned, "I'm Mason! Sorry, I was 'fraid I wouldn't catch you in time!" He, Mason, plopped down on the grass in front of me and put on his shoes. His hair was as black as Maria's and his short stature reminded me of her, so he is most likely her biological son. He had a goofy grin, a sign of immaturity and lightheartedness. He stood and fixed his jacket before looking at me again.

          "Catch me in time?" I said after I was sure he was listening and he didn't continue talking.

          "YuP!" He popped the 'p'. "You were the guy at the door right?" He spoke at a rapid pace that was almost too fast to follow. His facial features were sharper than Maria's, though he still had some boyish roundness, showing that he hadn't completed puberty yet. His eyes were lighter than hers by a few shades, making them look more chocolate than coal.

          "Yes. Why?"

           "What's your name?" Mason gestured for me to follow him as he walked down the sidewalk, which I did.

          "Thomas," I said rather shortly. Mason pretended not to notice, or he literally didn't notice. I wouldn't put it past him, he seems like quite the airhead.

          "Okay, Thomas! You're looking for your 'friend' Samuel, right?" He put quotes around friend.

          I looked at him and answered slowly, "Yes.." He still seemed cheery but a shadow of sorts seems to have clouded his features and he stopped dead in his tracks before turning to me. At this point, we were a good ways away from his house.

          "Don't. Don't look for him."