"I need space." Those were the words Jacky said to Ryan the night before they both left for separate colleges. Now, each of them will try to learn who they are without the other. Will their paths lead them back together?
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Ryan
Ryan trudged up the stairs and stuck his key in the door, only to discover it unlocked. We've been robbed, he thought even as he pushed the door open calling, "Hello?"
Instead he found a man with steel gray hair and the stance of a soldier standing in the kitchen. Ryan stopped short. Then it clicked in as he remembered Sam mentioning that her parents were coming into town to take her out to dinner.
"Hi, you must be Sam's father," Ryan said. He set his bag down by the couch and approached with a hand extended.
Sam's father nodded once and nearly crushed Ryan's hand with a firm shake. "And you are?"
"I'm Ryan." Something about the man's rigid demeanor made him want to lighten the mood, so he did a little shruggy thing and added, "One of the roommates."
"Samantha did not tell me she had a male roommate." The man's eyes bored into him.
"Oh, uh—" Ryan glanced around wondering where the hell Sam was. Should he pile on and mention Pete? "I'm gay, if that makes you feel any better."
Almost immediately Ryan knew this was the wrong answer by the unchanging look on the man's face. This is what I get for not having a father figure in my life, Ryan thought. Then he found himself setting his jaw and standing up a little bit straighter. Who was this man who thought he had any say in Sam's living situation? As far as Ryan knew, Sam and the other roommates all had jobs and they all paid the rent.
He hung up his jacket on the coat rack by the door and took off his shoes to give himself a little time to adjust to the situation. Sam may have mentioned that her parents were coming to take her to dinner, but that didn't explain where Sam and her mother were, or give Ryan any clue as to Sam's relationship with her parents. The fact that Sam never spoke about her family told Ryan volumes.
It didn't seem like – Ryan wracked his brain for Sam's last name, and remembered – Mr. Murray was the type to make small talk, so Ryan was about to take his bag down the hall to his room when Sam emerged from her room wearing a flowery green dress with a jean jacket over it, and a pair of black Doc Martens that Ryan knew she'd found at a local thrift store.
Sam stopped short when she saw Ryan, causing the woman behind her to walk into her. "Samantha!" the woman who was presumably Mrs. Murray chastened before she saw Ryan. "Oh! Oh, Samantha, is this your boyfriend?"
Ryan had to physically close his gaping mouth. He had never seen Sam in a dress. Sam was more of a concert tee, flannel, and ripped black jeans type, unless she was working out with Ryan, when she wore a concert tee, hoodie, and basketball shorts.
Sam scowled, raised a finger, and said, "Do not say anything."
"It's not her boyfriend." Mr. Murray said as Sam and Mrs. Murray came into the living room. "It's her gay roommate."
Mrs. Murray's face contorted. "Oh—oh. That's—well, it's nice to meet you—uh—"
"Ryan." He looked at Sam, who rolled her eyes.
"She didn't have any other shoes," Mrs. Murray said apologetically. "Or a proper cardigan. I knew I should have brought one of mine along for her."
Ryan edged toward the hallway.
"We'll discuss it in the car," Mr. Murray snapped.
With that, Ryan stepped back into the living room. He wanted to offer Sam something, some kind of protection against these people who thought they could tell Sam how to dress and how to live. Sam had her arms folded across her chest, her body rigid. But what could he say?
He stood there while Mrs. Murray gathered her things, and Mr. Murray stood impatiently by the door. "You good?" he murmured to Sam.
"I'm fine," Sam snapped, and stormed out. Mrs. Murray followed with her head down.
Ryan winced as Mr. Murray closed the door none-too-gently behind him.
Now the silence of the apartment felt huge. It was rare for all the roommates to be gone; Ryan suspected that Sam had known the apartment would be empty and wanted to protect them all from her parents' intrusion. Or she knew her parents would force her to wear a dress, and wanted to save herself the embarrassment.
At the group home, Ryan had encountered many less-than-ideal parents – not every one was a complete orphan like Ryan and Pete. Sean's mother, for example, had a drug problem and a string of awful boyfriends who used Sean as a punching bag, hence why they only had supervised visits and Sean never talked about "going home." It was strange to him that Sam's parents had triggered the same instinct to protect as he got from Sean's mom, when clearly Mr. and Mrs. Murray seemed so different. Not everyone had parents like his own mother who loved them unconditionally.
An emptiness yawned inside of him, one he had felt less and less frequently in the year and a half since his mother passed away. He sat down heavily on his bed. The weight of sadness pressed down in a crushing blanket. His mother had faded before she was fully gone, and he had to reach far back for those memories that weren't tainted with cancer. His head in his hands, he gasped for air as he choked out tears. Mixed with his memories were those of Jacky's mother, who had welcomed him over and offered something like home whenever he stayed the night.
Eventually, in the quiet of the apartment, he lay down and cried himself to sleep.
