Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Thirty Two

Warning: Mentions of drug dealing

Aurora

Sam was spreading himself thinner than ever and it was really starting to worry me. Each time I saw him, a rare occurrence as a result of his three jobs on top of school, he looked wrecked. I knew that making rent was getting harder and harder for him and his mother. The money from the DWP barely covered half and with Shirley jobless, it was down to Sam to make up the rest. That was without other excesses, such as bills and weekly shopping, so I knew it was really hard. Every time I brought it up, however, I was quickly shot down by Sam.

"I'm fine," he would tell me.

I knew it was getting worse. I had spent the night at Sam's a couple of weeks back and had found Shirley sitting at the kitchen table in tears when I had gone to grab a drink. Turns out the Department for Work and Pensions were like wolves, unsympathetic and ice cold, hounding the poor woman in an attempt to disprove her illness through tribunals. I was quick to comfort her that night.

Having lost my mam when I was a young girl, Shirley had helped fill the void in my life for a maternal figure and in turn, she often told me that I was like a daughter to her. She was such a loving woman and I was glad that I was able to have that connection with my boyfriend's mother, but seeing her in pain, emotionally and physically cut deep, so when she called me in floods of tears, it hurt.

"Am I a bad mother?" she asked me before I could say hi.

"What? No! What's gan on? Why are ya crying? Why would ya think that?" I rambled, concern lacing my words.

"It's Sam," she cried, causing my ears to prick up.

"What? Is he alreet?" I questioned in alarm.

"Has he talked to you about... dealing?" she inquired, her voice so quiet I almost misheard it.

"What? Drugs?" I frowned, earning a meek hum from the older woman. "No, never. Is he...?"

"No! No," she assured me. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding, my body losing its tension. "He asked me what I thought about it, said it could be a good idea, help us with our... problems."

"Shit," I cursed, running a hand over my face. "What did ya say?"

"I couldn't stop crying," she admitted. "Begged him not to do it, that we'd be fine somehow."

"Oh, Shirl," I mumbled sympathetically.

"Ya... ya don't think he'll do it, do ya?" she asked quietly.

"No, not if ya asked him not to," I told her honestly. I continued to comfort the distraught woman, but the only thought that was running through my head was Sam. What had he gotten himself into this time?

Sam

Mentioning the dealing to my mam clearly wasn't the best decision that I had made. In an attempt to solve our woes, I had only antagonised the situation and left my mam in a state of distress. As well as that, I knew that it was only a matter of time before Rory found out and it would only lead to another argument.

Surely enough, that night, my girlfriend called me. I knew what it was about, I didn't need to answer before I knew.

"Hi," I answered emotionlessly, preparing myself for the lecture that was to come.

"Hi," she whispered. I could already hear the sorrowful tone of her voice and it made my heart feel heavy. "Your mam phoned."

"Yeah?" I asked with a tone of indifference.

"She was pretty upset," she mumbled. I could picture her now, lying in her bed and staring up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. She was probably chewing her nails, a habit of hers that I detested, but was one I possessed myself and so any comments I could make would be entirely hypocritical. "Why didn't you talk to me, Sam?"

"What could you have done?" I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"I don't know-"

"Exactly. That's why I didn't bother you with it." I admitted.

"Bother? Sam, you could have talked to me. I would have listened," she sniffed. "You're not a bother. You're my boyfriend."

"Rory, I didn't want to tell you," I groaned in annoyance. "I wanted to avoid this."

"Avoid what?" she asked quietly.

"The inevitable argument that always follows," I grumbled.

"I'm not arguing with you. I just want to be there for you, why does that hit a nerve?" she asked.

"I don't need you to be there for me! I'm fine!" I yelled.

"Don't lie to me, Sam. I know you too well," she cried softly.

"Maybe I'm not fine! But that don't mean I want to talk about it," I huffed.

"Okay," she whispered.

"I tol- okay?" I frowned.

"Okay," she repeated softly. "I can't do much more to help you. All I can do is let you know that I'm here for you. When you're ready to talk to me, I'll be here."

"...Thank you," I mumbled out after a few moments of silence.

"You're not... gan do it... are ya?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," I sighed. "It was a stupid idea."

"Good," she mumbled. "I love you, Sam. I'm always gan be here for ya."

"I know, I love you, too, Scarl," I replied. I heard the click of the call being ended and threw my phone down beside me, letting out a frustrated growl. Why was I like this? Everything I touched turned to fucking stone and I hated it. I didn't deserve Rory, she was way too good for me. I was simply damaged goods.