Offside

  “Well,” Nicole started and then paused. I could feel her body twisting in my arms and felt her fingers pushing the hair off my forehead. “It’s like he’s a different person depending on what he’s wearing. He even said something about it once, when he was dressed up for that banquet thing you dragged me to. He was so…suave, I guess, because he was wearing a tux. Then when he puts on his jersey, he acts like someone completely different. That first day he was here—when I found him at the cemetery—that was the first time I thought this is the real Thomas, you know? Not an act.”

  “That’s got to be a little confusing for you, hon,” Greg said.

  “It’s giving me whiplash.”

  I felt her hand on my cheek and pushed against it instinctively even in sleep.

  “His Mom’s death…that really messed him up, you know?” she said softly.

  “It messed them both up,” Greg replied.

  “Did you know her? Did you know Thomas’s mom?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, “I did.”

  My dream deepened as I felt Nicole’s fingers twisting bits of my hair around my ear. I lay back on the picnic blanket in the yard, and the rain misted over us though we never got wet. Fucked up dreams.

  “They dated in high school…”

  “She left town and moved to Chicago, following some artist type…”

  “Lou brought her back here…”

  The words in my dream didn’t really make sense to me still, and the sensations of Nicole’s touch were more than enough to capture and hold my attention. I sighed and nuzzled against her, feeling her hair tickle my nose as I basked in her scent.

  Warm…delicious…my Rumple.

  “They got married…”

  “Thomas came shortly after…”

  The voices in my dreams faded with the scene, casting me in deeper sleep. As I felt consciousness grip me again, I groaned at my stiffened muscles as I shifted on the couch. I rolled off and on to the floor with a thump and a gasp.

  I heard giggling.

  “Oh fuck, that hurt,” I moaned. I flopped over onto my back and rubbed at my shoulder, grimacing.

  “You’re funny,” Nicole said as she crouched down next to me. “Hungry?”

  “Very.”

  “Get up, then.”

  She giggled again as she headed into the kitchen and left me on my back. I tilted my neck backwards painfully as I watched her saunter out of the room, her long legs teasing me with the tightening muscles as she walked. I moaned again as I rolled over and pushed myself up on my hands and knees.

  “I thought you soccer players were supposed to be in good shape.” Greg’s voice jumped out at me from his chair. I startled, having no idea he was sitting that close, and just about fell off and on to my face.

  He laughed at me, too.

  “Anytime you want to come lift weights with me,” I suggested as I looked up at him, “you let me know. We’ll see how you’re doing a couple hours later, old man.”

  He laughed again as he stood and offered me a hand. I took it, and he hauled me from the floor.

  “I think I’ll give it a pass,” Greg said. “Fishing is more of a sport for my tastes.”

  “Fishing? A sport? Seriously?”

  “Of course it’s a sport!”

  “Oh good lord,” Nicole groaned. She rolled her eyes as we walked in and sat at the table. “We’ll never hear the end of this one now.”

  “Fishing is the greatest sport there is, right after baseball…”

  She was right. He didn’t shut up through all of dinner.

  Despite my gagging noises and complaints about how freaking boring both of those so-called sports were, before the meal was through, my stomach was cramping up due from laughing. Greg shook his finger at me, and as soon as the dishes were cleared, he dragged me around the house to show me all his sportsman spoils, including a deep freezer filled with enough dead fish to…um…well, to fill a deep freezer.

  Nicole joined sides with me as we argued about how much better soccer was over baseball, and eventually, Greg gave up and went upstairs. He yelled down to Nicole and me not to be too loud before he shut his bedroom door for the night. Nicole sat down on the couch next to me and glanced at me sideways with her teeth embedded in her lip.

  “You still look tired,” she said softly.

  I shrugged.

  “Do you want to go home and get to bed?”

  I didn’t have to think about that one for too long before I was shaking my head vigorously. I reached over and grabbed her hand and pulled it over into my lap, suddenly feeling weird about it all, and thinking maybe I shouldn’t have touched her. I let go, but her hand was already in my lap, so that seemed stupid, too. I picked her hand back up again and just stared at our fingers laced together.

  “You said your dad is out of town?” Nicole asked softly.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “He’ll be back next Saturday.”

  “Do you…um…want to stay here tonight?” Nicole’s cheeks turned pink when I looked up at her.

  “Could I?”

  “Well, then you wouldn’t have to be alone all night, right?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed with a nod. I looked up at the clock and saw it was a quarter past ten. “Um…I could run home and get some shit…you know, clothes for tomorrow or whatever.”

  “Okay.”

  “Be back soon?”

  “I’ll be watching for you,” Nicole said with a smile and another lip bite.

  “I’ll hurry,” I said. I stood up, and she stood with me. I grabbed both of her hands, stared down at them in mine for a minute, and then looked back to her eyes. She was looking up at me through her lashes and just looked so damn beautiful—I couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her.

  Her lips were soft, smooth, and warm against mine. I tasted her gently, just running the tip of my tongue across her bottom lip before I pulled back from her warmth.

  “Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,” I whispered against her mouth. I took a step back and saw how her chest was rising and falling with her breaths.

  “Do you always quote Shakespeare to girls?” she asked.

  “Never have before,” I replied with a shrug. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “You’d better be,” she replied.

  I practically ran to my car and took the evil curves between our houses far quicker than I should have. I scampered up the front steps and left the door wide open as I leapt up the stairs, two at a time. I threw some stuff in a backpack and raced back the same way, barely remembering to close the door to the car before I ran back inside Nicole’s house.

  Even though I had slept with her in her bed twice before, I felt weird standing on the porch with my backpack full of shit to spend the night at Nicole’s house. The other times had been pretty spontaneous, and this felt a lot more planned. Was I supposed to ring the bell or knock? I had been there just twenty minutes before, so maybe I should just go in. She said she’d be watching for me—did that mean she already knew I was here, and she’d just open the door without me doing anything?

  All of this shit was just too unfamiliar to me. I didn’t know what to do.

  Thankfully, Nicole was apparently watching, because she opened the door before I managed to make a decision or chicken out and just go back to the car.

  “You’re soaked.”

  I glanced down, and she was right. I hadn’t really noticed the rain soaking through my shirt. I dripped into the foyer, and Nicole made me stand there while she got a towel from the bathroom.

  “You want a shower or anything?” she asked.

  “You want to join me?” I replied with raised eyebrows. The comment just kind of jumped out of my mouth without discussing itself with me first.

  “Do you have to act like an adolescent boy?” she asked.

  “I am an adolescent boy,” I reminded her. She dried my hair with the towel and then pushed me up the stairs to her room. Nicole took a handful of clothes into the bathroom to change, and I
just kind of stood in the middle of the room and looked around, noting the few changes from the last time I had been here.

  When she came back, I took my backpack into the bathroom, changed into some lounge pants, and brushed my teeth. I debated putting on the Donovan T-Shirt I brought with me, wondering if it would be better to leave it off.

  It was kind of hot tonight.

  All right, that was bullshit; it was actually pretty damn chilly.

  I put the shirt on.

  I returned to the room to find that Nicole had already climbed into bed, so I climbed in after her. I was on my left side, which really didn’t hurt anymore, but it still felt all wrong immediately.

  “Nicole?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we…um…switch sides?”

  “Switch sides?” Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “Yeah,” I said. I ran my hand through my hair. “I was…I was on the other side of you before.”

  Her mouth turned up into a half-smile, but her eyes remained curious.

  “O…kay…”

  We fumbled around a bit before we ended up with her going over the top of me while I shuffled to the other side of the bed. She landed beside me with a soft thump, and I rolled to my side and placed my hand on her hip. I sighed, feeling much better.

  “Did that really bother you?” she asked softly.

  I glanced up at her and then looked away immediately. I pushed my head against the pillow a bit more and shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. I knew it was weird to be so fixated on that kind of shit, but I couldn’t seem to turn it off.

  Finally, I spoke up.

  “Sometimes my head just kind of…decides things should be a certain way,” I told her. “Once it’s decided, it just feels weird if things aren’t where they are supposed to be.”

  “Like in my locker?” she said. She raised an eyebrow at me. I licked at my lips nervously.

  “Yeah, sort of,” I said and then decided that really wasn’t right. “Well, I mean…it was a mess…”

  Nicole cleared her throat and glared at me. I cringed.

  “But usually other people’s stuff doesn’t bother me that much because I don’t usually come into contact with it. I just…like things to be organized.”

  I lowered by eyes and turned my head into the pillow for a minute before I looked back at her through my eyelashes.

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I know that now.”

  “Good.” Nicole reached out and ran her hand through my hair and seemed to be watching her fingers as they moved over my head. After a minute, she looked around her own room. “This place doesn’t bother you?”

  “Not really,” I said. I smiled a little. “It was like this the first time I saw it.”

  “So, since the mess is all in the same place, it’s okay?”

  “It’s not in exactly the same place, but essentially—yes.”

  “Not exactly?”

  “Well, you had three Clare books on the nightstand when I was here before,” I told her. “Now there are only two and a Bracken book has been added. You had a blue shirt over the rocker arm before, and now your jeans are there. The hamper lid was open before, and there were hoop earrings on the dresser, not a necklace. There was English homework next to your computer, not biology, and two pencils were with it, not a pen, and a pair of socks was sticking out from under your bed before. Those are gone.”

  Nicole’s eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open.

  My chest tightened when I realized everything I had just revealed. I wanted to take it back.

  I couldn’t.

  My heart started to pound faster, and my hands went cold and numb.

  “Holy shit,” Nicole finally breathed out.

  “I don’t…I mean…I was just…um…kidding.”

  “No.” Nicole shook her head slightly. “You weren’t.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Thomas?”

  I didn’t answer even when I felt her hand against the side of my face.

  “Thomas. Look at me.”

  I opened my eyes slowly, waiting for the expression that would tell me she knew I was a complete freak, and she would probably toss me right out the window.

  “Do you really remember all of that?”

  “Maybe,” I whispered.

  “Thomas…that is incredible.”

  I tucked my head against her shoulder, and it felt like my skin was trying to implode into my body or something. It was all tight and making everything inside of me hurt.

  “Oh my God,” Nicole suddenly said. I heard her slight gasp. “You said something about this before—that you would never forget anything again after…after your mom…”

  Both her hands captured my face, and she turned my head up. I looked into her soft blue eyes, waiting for the loathing that was sure to appear when she put it all together.

  Not only did I kill my mom, but my dad hated me, and I was a total freak of nature as well. As I stared, her look did change, but I didn’t see the loathing I expected.

  It just wasn’t there.

  Shock, yes, and maybe even a bit of awe but not the hatred I had anticipated. Not the disgust. There was no hint that she considered me Shakespeare’s “lump of foul deformity.”

  “I remember everything,” I said quietly.

  I couldn't look at her. I could still feel her eyes on me, but I kept mine on the open door across the room. I wondered if Greg was asleep by now or if he could have been out in the hallway or maybe even able to hear us talking from his own room. Strangely, the idea didn't really freak me out as much as I thought it would.

  “That's why you don't bring anything to class, isn't it?” Nicole surmised. “You aren’t being shitty; you really don't need it.”

  “Not if I've already read the chapter,” I told her. I clenched my hand into a fist behind her back. “I don't really need to take notes or anything.”

  “And here I thought you were just being a prick.” Nicole let out a short, soft laugh.

  For the longest time, she said nothing. I didn't really have anything to add, so I stayed silent as well, letting my mind conjure up all the possible things she might be thinking. The one I kept coming back to was her wanting me to leave. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I had to know.

  “Should I leave?” I asked quietly.

  “Leave?” Nicole repeated. “Why would I want you to leave?”

  I just shrugged. It was too obvious to voice.

  “Thomas?” I felt her fingers on my jaw again as she tilted my head to look at her. “I don't want you to leave.”

  “Even though I'm a freak?” I asked.

  “Thomas…” She shook her head slowly. Her expression was confused and a little sad. “It doesn't make you a freak.”

  With that, she moved closer and pressed her lips against mine. She wrapped her fingers into my hair as she rose and kissed me harder. She pushed me back into the pillow, and I groaned quietly. The pressure of her tongue on my lips was too brief, and she soon backed off and just looked at me. She left her fingers still tightly twined in the hair at the back of my head.

  “Why are you so worried?” she asked.

  “I didn't think…I thought you would think I was…weird.”

  She laughed softly again.

  “Thomas,” she said, “you are a little weird. Not in a bad way at all, but you certainly do have a few…idiosyncrasies.”

  She kissed me again, and again it was too brief.

  “And I kind of like them.”

  “You do?” I was a little astonished.

  “Yeah, I do.” She propped herself up on her elbow a little, and my hand finally managed to open up to press against her back. She reached over and ran her fingers lightly over my temple and down my jaw. She kept going down my neck, across my shoulder, and finally rested her hand on my bicep, right where the T-shirt ended. “There are some things you do though…”

&
nbsp; Her voice trailed off, and I felt panic welling up in the pit of my stomach.

  “What?” I wondered if I really wanted to know. Her hand ran over my arm again.

  “You have beautiful arms,” she said quietly. Her finger traced the outline of the muscle there. “But sometimes…how you use them…well, that bothers me.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every time you get pissed off about something, you start hitting people,” she said. “We were supposed to talk about that, you know.”

  “I remember.”

  “I bet you do.” She turned her gaze from my arm and met my eyes again. “I don't like it, Thomas. You can't just lash out and threaten people when you get mad.”

  “I don't,” I said. Even as the words left my mouth, I knew it wasn't really true. “I mean…not every time.”

  “Most of the time,” she amended. I could tell by the tone in her voice she wasn't going to back down any more than that.

  “Sometimes I have to,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “I'm not going to let anyone talk shit about you,” I told her. “I said I'd protect you, and I will.”

  “That doesn't mean beating people up and shoving them into lockers.”

  “He learned to keep his mouth shut, didn't he?”

  “That is not the point.”

  “Yeah,” I corrected, “it is. That was the goal—to shut Clint's ass up, and it did. He knows better now, and so does everyone else. What did you expect me to do, tell him to ‘please stop’ and expect that to work?”

  “That doesn't mean you have to get violent!”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, what did you do to Crystal? You didn't hit her, did you?”

  “Um…no.” I looked away again. I really didn't want to go there. After I didn't say anything else, Nicole prompted me to elaborate. “I just…took care of it another way.”

  “Did you threaten her?”

  I shrugged again since I was getting so good at it.

  “How?” she pushed.

  “You really don't want to know,” I informed her.

  “You are only making my point, you know.”

  “What is your point?” I asked.

  “I don't want you to hit people anymore,” she said, “or threaten them.”