Suddenly Sam's gaze swingsto me and it morphs, his rage draining, replaced by horror.Hisfury fades as he gets ahold of himself and Drunk Stranger, nowflanked by two of his friends, walks off into the bathroommuttering a barely intelligible rant about stupid frigid bitchesand crazy Long Island assholes.
Sam rolls his shoulders,and Dave and Tuck cautiously release their hold.Sam is breathinghard, and he staggers a bit on his feet.
"Your friend needs toleave," bartender guy says softly to me.I look back at him, andthen back to Sam.He must have balls of steel to tell Sam he has togo right now, even politely.
"No fucking problem," Samspits bitterly, and then turns on his heel, stumbling slightly, andheads to the exit.
I am frozen in shock forone more moment before I make to go after him.
"Uh, Pine, you should sayin here," Dave advises.Tucker nods in agreement, looking at mewith such sympathy I wonder if Sam is more than just pissed at me,if he really just hates me now.
But he's drunk and upset,and what he thinks of me can't matter right now.He needs someoneto look out for him."I'm just gonna make sure he's okay," Imumble.
"We'll go," Tuck offers,but I shake my head adamantly.I need to see he's okay with my owneyes.Tuck sighs and shrugs, and I run on toward the exit, afterSam.
I find him two storefrontsdown in front of a closed pizza restaurant.He turns his back to mewhen he sees me, and it makes me hesitate.His shoulders heave, andI know he's trying to get ahold of himself, but I don't care.Hecan hate me all he wants, but I know he won't hurt me.I'm notafraid of him.I could never be afraid of him.
I don't say anything whenI reach him, nor do I touch him.But he senses me, and turns aroundto face me.
"What, Rory?What do you want?"Samstabs me in the gut with each bitter word.
"I...I just wanna makesure you're alright," I murmur.
Sam lets out a short,sardonic laugh."You sure you want to be out here alone with me?Idon't want toscareyou."But his words are not earnest.They areaccusatory.
"What are you talkingabout, Sam?"
And then he lets me haveit."What am I talking about?!Youknowwhat the fuck I'm talkingabout!What, am Ihimnow?I shout at some prick and you cower like I'm goingtowhat?Fuckingdeck you next?!"
He thinks that I thinkhe's like Robin?
I shake my head fervently."That's crazy!I didn't cower.I don't think you would—"
"You flinched!"Hebellows.
I blink at him.I didflinch, but not out of fear of Sam.The truth is that in that tensemoment I didn't know what was about to happen.What Drunk StrangerAsshole was going to do next, what he was capable of.
"I—" I try to defendmyself, to explain myself, but Sam isn't having it.
"You fuckingflinchedaway from me,Rory!Like you thought I might hit you!"
Bullshit.Ineverthought Sam would hit me.Notfor a single moment."I'm sorry I flinched, Sam, but you know what?Not everything is aboutyou!" I cut myself off and take adeep breath."It was just a conditioned, natural reaction to araised voice.And it wasn't directed at you."
Sam's anger deflates, butthere is no relief."Except I don't know if that's completely true.Because the thing is...I'mnotthat different," he says, only the slightest slurto his words, as if although he's drunk, he's just had somesobering moment of clarity.
And I get his meaning.Samthinks that because he's just done something violent, because he'sbeen violent before, that he deserved my fear.That his violenceechoes Robin's, and that of his own father, and that he is thus nobetter.But,God,why can't he see how wrong he is?
"Sam—" but he interruptsagain.
"You know I saw Schall,too, before," he murmurs."Got into a lot of fights—just like thatone."He gestures with his chin back toward the entrance to thebar."Anger issues, supposedly… and maybe they were right."Hescowls in self disgust, "Fuck, Rory, I hit your fucking father!You've seen me lose my shit—onthatmotherfucking bastard, on your dad...nowon this dipshit.That'swhy you flinched, b-Rory… that's how you see me…apparently, that's what Ido."
I've been shaking my headthrough his entire self-recriminating, inebriated rambling, butsomehow, I can't find the right words.I hadn't feared him.That'sthe truth.But he's drunk and practically castigating himself, andI know nothing I say right now will get through to him.
Suddenly sirens soundfaintly in the distance and a horde of people starts pushing out ofthe bar entrance and spilling onto the sidewalk.I recognize ourfriends and Tucker spots us, gesturing with urgency for us to joinhim.He rolls his eyes when neither of us moves, whispers somethingto Carl, and kisses her hard on the mouth before jogging over towhere we're standing.
"That douchebag called thecops, we gotta go," Tuck says, and my breath catches in mythroat.
The cops?Shit, Sam could get in trouble.I blanch and grabSam's bicep, trying to push him to move, to get the hell out ofhere.But Sam doesn't seem scared, he doesn't seem like he wants togo anywhere at all.Instead his gaze shoots to where my fingersclutch his arm, his brow furrowing in that adorable way that makesmy knees buckle for a moment.His glazed, alcohol shrouded midnightblues meet my gaze and look right through me, paralyzing me, and helooks so confused, as if he doesn't know what to make of myobviously desperate concern for him.
