I release my anger toward my father.
I even release my anger toward my mother.
The only thing I’m going to hold on to from this point forward are the good things.
I may not be ending the summer with Samson by my side, but I’m ending it with something I didn’t have when I showed up here.
A family.
THIRTY
My roommate is a girl from Los Angeles. Her name is Cierra with a C.
We get along okay, but I’m trying to stay focused on school and volleyball, so I haven’t hung out with her outside of our dorm room. Other than when we’re both in here doing homework or sleeping, I don’t see her much. It’s weird how I lived across the hall from Sara for a summer and saw her more than I see the person living in the same room with me now.
I miss Sara, even though we text every day. So do my father and I.
None of us discuss Samson, though. Not since that morning I decided to come to Pennsylvania. I need everyone to believe that I’ve moved on, but I’m not sure how to. I think about him all the time. I’ll see something or hear something and feel an intense need to tell him about it. But I can’t because he’s made sure to cut off any form of communication I could have with him.
I wrote him one letter and it was returned to me. I cried that entire afternoon, but decided not to write him after that.
His court hearing was this morning. Based on all the charges, he’s looking at several years of potential prison time. I’ve been waiting by my phone all day for a phone call from Kevin.
That’s all I’ve been doing. Staring at my phone. Waiting. I finally get tired of it and dial Kevin’s number. I know he said he’d call me after Samson’s sentencing, but maybe he got held up. I look behind me to make sure Cierra is still in the shower and then sit up straight on my bed when Kevin answers.
“I was about to call you.”
“What happened?”
Kevin sighs, and I feel all the weight of Samson’s sentence in that sigh. “Good news and bad news. We were able to get the breaking and entering charges downgraded to trespassing. But they wouldn’t budge on the arson charge because of the security footage.”
My arm is wrapped tightly around my stomach. “How long, Kevin?”
“Six years. But he’ll likely get out in four.”
I press my hand to my forehead and drop my head between my shoulders. “Why so long? That’s so long.”
“It could have been much worse. He was facing ten years for the arson alone. Had he not already violated parole in the past, he probably would have been slapped on the wrist. But this isn’t his first offense, Beyah.”
“But did you explain to the judge why he violated parole? He had no money. How can they expect people to pay parole fees when they have no money?”
“I know it’s not the news you wanted, but it’s better than it could have been.”
I’m so upset. I honestly didn’t think he would be sentenced to that much time. “Rapists get less time than he did. What is wrong with our judicial system?”
“Everything. You’re in college. Maybe you should become a lawyer and do something about it.”
Maybe I will. I haven’t declared a major yet and nothing pisses me off more than thinking of all the people who fell through the cracks. “What prison are they sending him to?”
“Huntsville, Texas.”
“Do you have a mailing address for him?”
I can hear Kevin’s hesitation over the phone. “He doesn’t want visitors. Or mail. My name is the only one on his list besides my mother’s.”
I figured as much. Samson is going to be stubborn about this until the day he’s out. “I’m calling you every month until he’s released. But please call me first if there are any changes, or if he gets out early on parole. Anything at all. Even if he’s moved to a different location.”
“Can I give you a piece of advice, Beyah?”
I roll my eyes, waiting for another lecture from someone else who doesn’t know Samson at all.
“If you were my daughter, I’d tell you to move on. You’re putting too much effort into this guy, and no one knows him well enough to know if he’s worth that kind of energy.”
“What if Samson was your son?” I ask him. “Would you want everyone to just give up on him?”
Kevin sighs heavily before saying, “Point taken. Guess I’ll talk to you next month.”
He ends the call. I set my phone down on the dresser, completely disappointed. Helpless.