“Your mess? Samson, what you did isn’t that bad. You were a kid who practically raised himself on the streets. How were you supposed to get back on your feet after you were released from jail the first time? I’m sure if you tell them why the fire started and why you broke parole, they’d understand.”
“The court doesn’t care why I broke the law; they just care that I broke it.”
“Well, they should care.”
“It doesn’t matter how flawed the system is, Beyah. The two of us aren’t going to change it overnight. I’m looking at several years, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it, so there’s no reason for you to stay in Texas.”
“You’re enough of a reason. How will I visit you if I’m in Pennsylvania?”
“I don’t want you to visit me. I want you to go to college.”
“I can go to college here.”
He laughs, but there’s no smile attached to his laugh. It’s an exasperated laugh. “Why are you being so stubborn? This was our plan all summer—to go our separate ways when you leave for school.”
His words are digging into me, twisting my insides. My voice comes out in a whisper when I say, “I thought things changed. You said we grew heart bones.”
Samson’s entire body feels that comment. He sinks a little, like I’m hurting him. I don’t want to hurt him, but he’s worth more than this. He wasn’t a throwaway to me.
“I can’t be that far away from you,” I say quietly. “Phone calls and letters aren’t going to be enough.”
“I don’t want phone calls or letters, either. I want you to go live your life and not be weighed down by mine.” He can see the shock on my face, but he doesn’t give me time to argue with him. “Beyah. We have been alone on islands our whole lives. It’s why we connected, because we recognized that loneliness in each other. But this is your chance to get off your island, and I refuse to hold you back for however many years I’ll be gone.”
I can feel the tears. I look down just as one falls on the table. “You can’t cut me off. I can’t do this without you.”
“You’ve already done it without me,” he says, his voice determined. He reaches across the table and lifts my face so that I’m forced to look at him. He looks as broken as I feel. “I had nothing to do with your accomplishments. I had nothing to do with who you turned out to be. Please don’t make me be the reason you give it all up.”
The more committed he is to the idea that he doesn’t want me to stay in touch with him, the angrier I get.
“This isn’t fair to me. You expect me to just walk away and not have any contact with you at all? Why would you let me fall for you in the first place when you knew this was going to be the end result?”
He exhales sharply. “We agreed this would end in August, Beyah. We agreed to keep it in the shallow end.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re the one who said people still drown in the shallow end.” I lean forward until I have his focus again. “I’m drowning, Samson. And you’re the one holding me underwater.” I wipe my eyes angrily.
Samson takes my hands again, but this time, it’s different. There’s an ache in his voice when he says, “I’m so sorry.” It’s all he says, but I can tell this is his goodbye.
He stands up like this discussion is over, but he’s looking at me like he wants me to stand up, too. I fold my arms tightly over my chest. “I’m not hugging you goodbye. You don’t deserve to hold me anymore.”
Samson nods a little. “I never deserved to hold you in the first place.” He turns to leave, and I instantly become terrified it’s the last time I’ll see him. Samson doesn’t say things with that look in his eye unless he means them. He’s not going to allow me to see him again. This is it. This is where we end.
I jump up when he begins to walk away. “Samson, wait!”
He turns around just in time to catch me when I throw my arms around him. I bury my face against his neck. When he folds me into his arms, I start to cry.
So many things are running through me at once. I miss him so much already, but I’m also angrier than I’ve ever been. I knew this was coming—the goodbye. But I didn’t know it would be under these circumstances. I feel powerless. I wanted our goodbye to be a choice I had a part in, but I’m not getting a choice at all.
He kisses the side of my head. “Take the scholarship, Beyah. And have fun. Please.” His voice cracks on please. He releases me and walks to a guard standing next to a door. I feel heavy without him, like I’ve lost an entire support system and can no longer hold myself up on my own.