I don’t know exactly what happened with them, but I want to scream at him I’m so angry. Why did he come here tonight? Why can’t he just let it go?
I’m already dreading our next swim practice. Maybe Todd has been right all along. I don’t know anymore.
Still, a small part of me feels bad for Casey. He has shown me he’s good person, and I know he doesn’t have anyone else. Even though he’s surrounded by friends, I know he’s alone.
“He’s definitely going to have a black eye tomorrow for the dance,” Sid says. That’s the last thing on my mind, but once she says it, I can’t help laughing through my tears.
“Well, it should make for interesting pictures,” Blythe chimes in.
I’m not sure if it’s stress or nerves, but we all start laughing hysterically. I know I look insane because I’m laughing and crying at the same time. Not to mention, laughing probably isn’t something a sane person would do right after two boys almost killed each other because of her, but, oh well. I can’t help it. It’s the only way I can deal with everything at the moment so I just keep laughing.
Chapter 8: The Day After
TODD
As soon as I open my eyes, everything from last night comes pouring back in. Then I run my hands over my face, and the searing pain is another instant reminder. My eye feels like I got hit with a sledgehammer, and my hand is killing me.
I look at my hand to see it’s scabbed and bloody. Shit.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
The room is spinning, and my stomach joins in. I know I need to move quickly because whatever I ate last night is coming back up, but I can’t. I try, but my body only knows one speed right now—slow motion.
One step at a time, I repeat to myself then smile because it makes me think of Ash.
I make it to my trashcan just in time. Man, I’m in bad shape.
The homecoming dance is tonight. Shit.
I crawl back to my bed and see a bag filled with water next to my pillow. At one point, that must have been ice for my eye. I wish I had ice right now. I think about drinking the water in the bag, but I’m not that desperate. Yet. Besides, I don’t think I could keep it down at the moment.
I close my eyes. Maybe that will stop the spinning. I have the whole day to feel human again, but I’m not sure that’s enough time. I can’t believe I let that asshole get to me again. Ash must want to kill me.
There is silence for a second, spinning silence but silence, nonetheless. I try to convince myself the room is not spinning. Then there is loud banging on my door.
I’m going to strangle Sid.
“Not cool, Sidney,” I shout as loud as my head and lungs will allow.
The door opens. “It’s not Sidney.” I hear my dad’s voice.
Shit. It’s too late. I can’t hide any of the evidence, not that I have the strength to move even if I want to. I’m suddenly grateful I tied up the garbage bag. Maybe he won’t notice I was drinking last night.
“It smells like a brewery in here.”
Guess not. Shit.
I open the only eye I really can and instantly regret it. My dad does not look happy.
“Sit up.”
He has no idea how difficult that request is going to be for me at the moment, or maybe he does.
“I’d rather not,” I try to say as lightly as possible.
“If you want to talk about rather nots, I’d rather not come into my son’s room at noon to find that he is still asleep, obviously hungover, and apparently he also got into a fight last night. So sit up. We’re painting the fence today, remember?”
Double shit. I bolt up, and my head instantly retaliates. Nothing like the threat of chores to give me the extra trajectory I needed.
“I can’t, Dad. Come on. I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m sure Sid would love to help.” I forgot about the damn fence.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Todd, first it was the stunt at school, which made you sit out the entire first quarter of the game when you knew college scouts were coming, college scouts who are interested in you. What if Coach didn’t let you play?”
I know this is not a question he actually wants me to answer. I can also tell he’s not even close to being finished with this rant, so I start to lie back to take in the rest. I just need something to lean on while I do it. Thank God for my headboard and pillow.
I try to keep my movement casual so he doesn’t notice just how bad of shape I’m really in.
“You don’t realize how lucky you are that you have several schools interested in you, and then you go and almost blow it.”
I take a deep breath to try to will the anger starting to bubble up away, not to mention the burning I feel in my throat. I think I’m going to be sick again.
“I didn’t blow it, Dad.” Stay calm.
“Who knows? I’m sure the scouts asked why you weren’t playing.” He shakes his head. “The three of you, you don’t think.”
“I got a verbal offer from Penn State last night, Dad, so I didn’t blow it.”
That stops him in his tracks. I didn’t tell anyone other than Ash last night.
“Is that true?” He looks at me like I’m such a screw up it can’t possibly be true.
I feel like I’m going to throw up if I say anything else, so I squeeze my lips together and nod my head.
“Son, that’s great. Is the same possible scholarship offer they mentioned earlier still on the table?”
Once again, I nod my head.
I need him to go.
“Wow. Penn State,” Dad repeats.
He is in such a daze of happiness I think everything else is erased until he glances over at me, and my face reminds him that he was in the middle of a rant.
“What happened to your face? You are a mess. You got a possible scholarship offer from a great school, and then you think it’s a good idea to go get drunk at some party and get into a fight? Look at your hand, your eye. You have no guarantees, Todd. You need to play this smart. And fighting and underage drinking are not good choices when you have so much riding on this. Penn State has a long line of kickers, I’m sure. Plus, think about baseball; what if you broke your hand?”
He isn’t stopping. There is so much I want to say to defend myself, but I can’t open my mouth, or it will be over. I close my eyes to try to zone him out and concentrate on not throwing up; however, I can’t hold it any longer. I start to get up, but before I know it, everything I ever ate is coming up all over my dad’s shoes, my rug, my bed. I mean, it is everywhere.
“Todd! What are you doing?” he yells as if I’m a little kid again. He hasn’t used that tone with me in years, and the scowl on his face is irreparable.
Well, there goes homecoming.
ASHLEY
It’s noon, and I’m starting to get worried. I’ve texted Todd a hundred times. Well, five, but it feels like a hundred. Sid checked on him a few times for me earlier and said he was still breathing, so I know he’s alive, but he was in bad shape last night.
He said he was sorry a million times on the drive home. Since none of the boys were in any condition to drive, Blythe gave us all rides. I was on Todd’s lap, which would have been incredible except for the fact that he was bleeding and still reeling from the fight.
I kept trying to get him to keep the ice packs on his eye and hand, but he kept pushing them away and saying he loved me and he was sorry. He normally would never talk like that in front of Ryan and Brian, so that’s how I knew just how out of it he was.
Despite Sid lecturing him for the entire drive, he just ignored her. She was positive their dad was going to be livid, though, so I’m just waiting for the verdict.
Finally, my phone buzzes, and my heart races as soon as I see Todd’s name.