NORMAL (64 page)

"I see," Sam replies, "and I suppose you're here to help Rory's rapist get away with trying to do it again? That's what you do, isn't it?"

I gasp, shocked that Sam has the nerve to say such a thing. It is the first time anyone has called my father out so blatantly.

"How
dare
you? You have no idea what you're talkin' about, boy!" My father takes a deep breath as if to calm himself, and then looks Sam over curiously. "Look, son, I understand. My daughter is beautiful and she sure has a way of gettin' to boys, but she has serious issues. Do you have any idea what she did to the last boy that fell for her? Don't fall for her lies, you'll be her next victim," he warns.

"Rory is the only
victim
here and you're the one falling for lies. How
could
you? You're her
father
! You're supposed to protect her!"

"Son-"

"I. Am. Not. Your. Son."

Mayor Forbes bristles uncomfortably. "I don't have time for this, I'm goin' to find the lead detective," he murmurs to my father who nods without taking his eyes off Sam. Mayor Forbes walks away, presumably to find Mora and work his magic, and I know it's only a matter of time before Robin is released and I'm the one being accused of God only knows what.

"You're makin' a big mistake," my dad warns Sam before returning his attention to me. "Aurora, you need to come with me right now and tell them Robin didn't assault you. You never understand the implications of your stories." He makes to go around Sam and reaches out to take my forearm so that I can do as he says.

But before I can even react, Sam shoves at my father's chest so that he stumbles back, away from me, but my father steps forward again, now red faced with fury.

"You have three seconds to get the hell outta my way,
son!
" My father threatens, poking Sam in his chest.

"I am not your fucking
son
, and
Rory
isn't yours either, and
you
have three seconds to back.
The fuck
. Off!" Sam growls back, and all I can do is look on in horror as Sam swats my father’s hand away from his chest, my father lifts his hand as if to strike, but not before Sam's fist decks him in the jaw at full force.

My father's head swings sideways and he wobbles for a split second before he becomes enraged all over again and grabs Sam by the shirt. I choke on my own breath and back away in horror, until I feel the wall behind me, halting my escape. I am trapped in a nightmare, watching Sam relive the worst experiences of his life - being struck and abused - only this time not by his father, but by my own.

But Sam is no little boy, and he wrenches free, pushing my father away, before Sam - obviously the stronger of the two - throws another forceful punch. The two grapple for what feels like forever before officers swarm them and pull them apart.

I can't breathe. An invisible steel band tightens around my chest, and as beads of sweat break out on my brow, I know it's only a matter of time. I hastily shove my hand into my bag, luckily finding my pills immediately, and I swallow one dry.

Numb. I need to feel numb.

The torrent of activity is a blur. Sam's arms are twisted behind his back as an officer slaps handcuffs on him. I'm vaguely aware of my father murmuring accusations while showing his palms in an offer of pacifism before straightening his tie. He is not handcuffed, but he is led off by a different officer nonetheless. But he takes a moment to look back over his shoulder and shoots me that glare. It is the same look he gave me the morning I told him about Robin. He is warning me, but though I can do nothing more than gape back at him, I will not heed his warning. Not this time. If Robin gets away with what he's done, it won't be because I was too weak to tell the truth.

Sam is taken away and I am left here, frozen and alone and it's a long time before I pull myself together enough to act.

My worst fears have all been realized. My father is here to save Robin,
he hit Sam
, and Sam is in trouble - in
handcuffs
, and could even be arrested for all I know.

All because of me.

Reality floods in, bitter and unforgiving, as if to taunt me for doubting it for even a moment. I am a selfish girl. I knew better.

But now I know, beyond a shadow of any doubt, what I have to do. And so I rally and begin to fix what I've broken.

****

My first call is to my mother. It is long and torturous and riddled with tears and anger, but she agrees to my request as I knew she would. In fact, if I hadn't asked, I'm pretty sure she would have insisted on it anyway.

My next call is to Carl. I need her and Tuck. I need them to help me figure out how to help Sam, but before they even arrive, Detective Mora informs me that an officer witnessed the altercation and neither party will be charged. I breathe a sigh of relief, but as I take in her pitying expression, I know what is coming.

"He's gonna get out, isn't he?" I ask softly. I know she knows I mean Robin.

She offers me a weak smile. "I hope not, Rory."

I know what that means. She believes me, like Sheriff Chipley did, but my dad and Mayor Forbes, they'd have gone over her head, above her pay grade. It is completely out of her hands.

Carl and Tuck rush into the precinct and make a beeline for me. Carl pulls me in for a hug before I meet her worried eyes. I tell Tuck that Sam is being released any minute and ask to talk to Carl in private. I need her help, too.

She doesn't approve of my plan, but she has no choice but to do what I ask. She won't change my mind, not after I had to witness Sam collide head-on with my past, and end up as collateral damage. No, I have finally found my clarity and am done being selfish. I love Sam, so fucking much, and I will not make the same mistake with him that I made with Cam. If I have to let him go to avoid losing him completely, then that's what I'll do.

Sam's expression is unreadable as he strides towards us from whatever unknown room he'd been led off to earlier. He does his handshake - half hug thing with Tuck and nods to Carl before his eyes lock with mine. He says nothing to me, but he doesn't break our gaze for a second, like he's trying to get some kind of read on me, or trying to tell me something, I don't know which.

"You good, man?" Tuck asks and Sam nods once. "Good, let's get the fuck outta here."

We all get into a cab, Tuck taking the front passenger seat and I am sandwiched between Sam and Carl. No one says anything, and I fix my gaze on my own lap and twist my fingers nervously. Sam stares straight ahead for the most part, but I can feel him casting me glances, like he's trying to feel me out.

Tuck does the same thing to Sam, intermittently glancing back as if to check if his friend is really okay. Sam's face inches closer to mine until he leans into my ear.

"I'm sorry," he breathes.

I shake my head, barely perceptibly, but I know Sam sees. He has nothing to be sorry for, and he certainly shouldn't be apologizing to me, but I don't know what to say - if there's anything I
can
say, that will make this easier. So I continue to say nothing at all.

Instead, I grant myself this cab ride to soak in his love, because I know it is all I have left. I scoot over the inch that separates us and cuddle against him, leaning my head onto his shoulder. I feel his entire body sag with relief, and feel such guilt that I know how short lived it will be. Sam slides his arm around my shoulder, pulling me more firmly to his side and kisses my hair, inhaling deeply, as if scenting me.

I close my eyes for a moment and try to suspend time. I vaguely notice Tuck watching us out of the corner of his eye, his brow furrowed as if trying to work out the depth of our connection when we have known each other barely a few months, and only just admitted to being
something more
than friends.

When we arrive at the hotel, Carl takes her cue to distract Tuck while I let Sam lead me up to his room. As I watch Sam walk through the kitchen area of his suite and start to down a bottle of water, I gather all the strength I have left in my broken self.

"Sam..."

He secures the cap on the water bottle and gives me his full attention. Vaguely I think we should sit down, but I'm too overcome with determined energy to do anything but nervously shift from foot to foot in the middle of the room.

"We need to talk," I begin.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Ror. I don't know what came over me. Your dad... I just saw red-"

"Sam, I don't wanna talk about my father, okay?" I cut him off. I can't bear to hear any more of his apologies, not when I'm the one who's to blame for everything that's gone wrong.

I watch his features shift as he detects that something is up with me - something more than being upset over his fight with my father, or over any of the other terrible events of the past twenty four hours. I see his concern, his fear, but I also see his determination - that he will fix it, that he can save me - and that is what I must overcome. Because he can't. I've known this all along and yet at the same time I've finally just realized it.

"I can't do this," I force out.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks carefully.

I take a deep breath and then gesture between the two of us. "This.
Us
. I'm sorry, Sam.
So
sorry, but I- I just can't." I want to come up with something better, with some eloquent explanation. Some magic words to undo that past two days - to change us back into
just friends
, though in the back of my mind I fear that's never really what we were.

"You're serious?" Sam asks simply, his jaw tense and his brow furrowed in that gorgeous way that makes my heart break even more, not only for myself but for him.

"You said..."
Just say it, Rory!
"You said if I couldn't handle it, I could just tell you, and we would go back to bein' friends," I remind him shakily.

"I... I did say that," Sam agrees tentatively, as if he is reluctant to admit he even said it.

"Did you mean it?" I fight back tears, mustering all my strength, because there is nothing I could do in this moment that would be more selfish than to cry.

Sam hesitates, and I know him well enough to know he's holding back his own emotions, surely for my benefit.

"I... Yeah, of course I meant it, Ror," he replies, his voice cracking on my name and I suppress my wince at his pain.

Every instinct I have is telling me this is wrong. That we should be together. Every cell in my body hurts being even just a few feet away from him, every fiber of my being desperate to be back in his arms, to feel his lips on mine.

But this is not for me
, I remind myself,
this is for him.

"But I think you're wrong, Ror. You can handle more than you think. I..." he trails off defeatedly, vaguely shaking his head. I don't think he can bring himself to give me a pep talk about my strength after the past twenty four hours. Or maybe he's finally realized how weak I truly am. I snicker silently at the irony - that he may finally recognize my fragility when I'm finally actually exercising strength in letting him go.

"Look, I'm gonna go back to New York," I murmur.

Sam looks as if he's about to argue, and it's as if he wages our entire exchange internally. The one where he says I should stick it out, I argue that he should be on a beach having fun like a normal senior on spring break instead of babysitting me, he tells me I should be too, and I remind him that I'm
not
normal. Instead, he jumps to accepting my decision.

"Okay," he says, "I'll go with you."

I shake my head. "No way, Sam-"

"
Yes
, baby girl. You're not going alone, and whether you want to
be
with
me or not, I'm still your best friend, or is that over too?" he asks, his tone mildly accusatory. His words startle me, because he does have a point, but no way am I going to allow him to forfeit the rest of his vacation when I've already ruined most of it for him.

"My mom can fly down," I murmur, trying to hide the lie, because my mother is already en route and I will meet her in just a few hours at the airport to fly home. Well not
home
, I'm not sure anywhere is
home
anymore, but back to the house I live in with my mom anyway.

"That's really not necessary, Ror. If I stay here I'm just going to worry about you. We can fly out together tomorrow, it's only a day or so early anyway," he argues.

I don't bother fighting him. "Let's just figure it out tomorrow, okay? I just want to take a shower and go to bed," I lie, hoping he hasn't yet figured out the significance of my lip biting. I need to pack and get to the airport. Carl will ride with me there and then come back to the hotel. Tuck will be at Sam's suite soon to do whatever it is boys do to get their mind off of girls, assuming Sam's mind would be on me.

"Okay," Sam mutters, but his eyes narrow in skepticism, and I question if he's buying my bullshit at all. I've never been a good liar. Even as a child, my parents could always detect if I was hiding something, and Sam knows me now better than anyone.