The longer we face off, the worse I feel, and by the time Oliver wipes a hand over his face and grips his own throat as though he’s trying to choke the words out of himself, I’m almost ready to beg for his forgiveness.
‘Mia, I’m very sorry,’ he says. ‘I don’t want to do this but I care about you, so I have to. Your little football friend, he’s not the person you think he is.’
Now it’s my turn to look confused and Oliver is bubbling over with fake concern.
‘You haven’t heard then? About the accident?’
‘What accident?’
‘I assumed you’d have known,’ he says lightly. ‘What with youcoming from the same university and everything but I suppose I should’ve known better. Slippery character like him, I can understand why he’d want to keep this to himself. Still, you shouldn’t be cracking on to a girl without telling her the whole truth.’
‘Oliver, what are you talking about?’
The ancient rooms in Carpenter are never that warm but right now I’m boiling hot.
‘Like I said, there was an accident. This summer, by all accounts. I heard he crashed his girlfriend’s Jeep, nearly killed them all.’ His tone is so casual now, like he’s telling me about the weather. ‘Worst part is, he put his brother in a wheelchair. Tragic, isn’t it?’
‘That’s not true.’
I shake my head to stop any contrary evidence seeping into my mind. How Ethan showed up here at the last minute. The way he avoided talking about why he left. The DMs at the beginning of the semester. Everyone at Marshall deleting his pictures.
‘Who told you?’ I demand. ‘How could you know?’
‘Look, if a man is trying to keep a secret, he shouldn’t be shouting about it on the phone outside my flat. Makes sense he would use the phone in a different house though, doesn’t it? Best way to make sure you don’t hear.’
I sink back down into my seat, my legs no longer reliable. This isn’t the kind of thing someone makes up, not even if they feel as vindictive as Oliver looks.
‘I really am sorry, Mia. Imagine doing something like that and then lying about it. I wonder if the rest of the football team knows.’
‘He hasn’t lied,’ I say quietly. ‘Not talking about something isn’t the same as lying.’
‘It is though, isn’t it,’ Oliver says, and I can’t stop a sob from escaping because he’s right. ‘I would’ve kept it to myself but assomeone who cares about you, I couldn’t let you get mixed up with someone like that.’
Someone like that.
‘It was an accident, you said.’ I’m staring at the bed, trying to reconcile this story with the man who was inside me an hour ago. ‘Maybe it wasn’t his fault.’
‘Maybe. Makes you wonder though, whether or not he was drinking.’
‘Don’t say that,’ I snap. ‘You don’t make accusations like that unless you know for sure. It could ruin his life.’
‘What, like he ruined his brother’s?’
He shakes his head sadly and walks over to my desk and when he places his hand on my shoulder, a sympathetic gesture, I don’t shirk away even though I want to. I’m too stunned to move.
‘You don’t have to believe me,’ he says as he combs my hair back from my face. ‘Surely it wouldn’t be too hard for you to ask some of your friends from home. Or some of his friends. From what he was saying on the phone, it doesn’t seem like you had that many of your own.’
My lips pinch together as I look up at him, determined to stop myself from crying.
‘I agree with you, Mia, you can’t go around making things up about people. That’s why, when I realized who it was and what he was talking about, I thought the best thing to do would be to capture it all in his own words. Personally, I wouldn’t go to too much trouble defending someone who described me as, what was it again?’
He pulls out his tape recorder, the one he told me he carries everywhere, the one he loaned me on my birthday, and presses play.
‘She’s nothing like you. She’s an English student, super nerdy, you know the type. Kind of sad, honestly. Just a Waffle House waitress.’
‘Well.’ Oliver turns off the tape and places the recorder on my desk. ‘You’ve clearly got a lot on, I’ll leave you be.’
I don’t move when he turns to leave, glued to my chair and staring at the rectangular chunk of black plastic.
