Smile, Synonym

[34] Trust Your Gut

"Roman, wait!" Sam yelled as he ran after him, though still in shock. Everything had happened in such a flash — the fight, what Roman said, him leaving — it was all so hard to process. 

When the scene first unfolded in front of him, Sam was paralyzed. Because, god, now everyone knew. Of how pathetic, and vulnerable, and weak he was. How he couldn't stand up for himself. How he just let the madness happen over and over again. The realisation made his blood turn cold and his heart go numb. 

Then, in almost a minute, he felt adrenaline pump through his veins and the only thing he could think of was to run after Roman. 

So, here he was, running after the boy who had not only spilled his secret, but also stood up for him in the process.

"Roman!" Sam yelled once again. "I said stop!"

Suppose there was something in his voice — something braver and more commanding — that made Roman finally stop his tracks.

Sam took a few more steps towards him and, with all his exhaustion and anger, he said, "What the heck was that? What were you thinking?"

Roman didn't answer. Instead, he kept silent and focused his gaze on the floor.

"You do know what this means for me, right?" Sam continued. "What you did —" then he sighed. "Why'd you do it."

"Because it was something I should have done a long time ago," Roman answered, his voice so faint it was almost like a whisper.

Then the furrow in Sam's eyebrows softened and suddenly he was face to face with the Roman Alonso Thea was friends with. It left Sam with no rage nor anxiety, but only plain confusion.

"Why do you want to change so badly?" Sam unexpectedly found himself asking. Because he wanted to know. He had to know.

"Because I —" Roman looked up, mouth quivering, and he gulped. "I wasn't like this before. I wasn't a saint or anything, but I was decent. And I want to be that person again. I need to be that person again. For myself, and maybe for Thea too..."

"Well fuck!" Sam cursed, rubbing his forehead as he began to pace back and forth. "What do you expect me to do then?"

Roman didn't answer and returned his gaze to the ground. 

Ugh, why did this have to be so frustrating? Why couldn't have Thea chosen a different friend? Someone less complex and much less complicated? And, most of all, why must the odds be in Sam's hands? 

He didn't want to forgive Roman Alonso, but he didn't want to just ignore him either. 

At this point, Sam no longer thought about whether or not Roman deserved redemption, what now plagued his mind was whether he was willing to help him.

Sam looked back on the afternoon he spent with Fletcher, remembering what he had once said to him: "You get to decide what's best for you and, whatever it is, it's always the right choice. Trust your gut."

Trust your gut.

And what Sam's gut was telling him right now were simply two words on repeat. Thea Banks. A girl who gave second chances like a spare coin, with eyes that teared down exteriors in search for one's true core.

But Sam couldn't see Roman the way Thea did — he never will — however, that's not the point. What did he see when it came to Roman Alonso? Looking at this boy right now, with his walls broken down and his arms bear, Sam could see fear, as well as torment, and, above all, Sam could see someone who was not only willing, but desperate, to become better.

So then his gut tells him this: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

"I'm not going to forgive you," Sam said at last, which made Roman wince and his shoulders slump. But, just as he was about to leave, Sam added, "If you want my forgiveness, you're going to have to earn it. But, if you can't do that, then don't bother —"

Roman turned around, eyes wide and mouth hung open, as if he couldn't believe what he just heard. Probably didn't by the looks of it. "You're giving me a chance?"

"Far from it," Sam replied. He took a step forward. "So, what will it be?"

"Yes," Roman answered in almost a heartbeat. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

"Okay," Sam nodded, then an idea passed him. "Meet me at the Top Courts after school," he instructed as he started to head back inside. "And don't be late!"

By the time Sam returned to the cafeteria, there was a sense of lightness on his shoulders as his burdens began to slowly fade away, one by one. And at that exact moment, when Fletcher waved to him from a distance, Sam waved back, unable to stop the small tug on his lips.