‘I don’t know what to say—’
‘That’s because there is nothing to say. Fuck off before I change my mind.’
If nothing else, I know when a conversation is over. I thank him, silently, and stride out of the office, checking the time on my watch. There’s one more person I have to speak to before the game begins.
I can only pray she’ll hear me out.
Michael is waiting for me outside the locker room and my heart gets stuck in my throat. I don’t say anything, but my face asks the question and his answers. He opens the door. The boys are already on the field, warming up, and there’s only one person inside. It’s Mia. She looks at me, stricken by emotions I never want to see in those beautiful eyes ever again.
‘You’re okay,’ she gasps, sinking onto the closest bench, both hands covering her heart. ‘When Michael wouldn’t say what was wrong, I panicked and—’
‘I need to talk to you,’ I tell her before my confidence breaks. ‘You don’t have to believe me but I want to tell you the truth.’
‘You don’t have to.’
The deep red of her Hemden scarf contrasts too sharply against her impossibly pale face. She looks so tired.
‘I want to,’ I say and she whimpers so softly I have to grab hold of a locker to keep myself in position. ‘Will you listen?’
The slightest suggestion of a nod is all I need.
‘There was an accident, fourth of July weekend, that’s true. A bunch of us were going down to the beach and my little brother, Chris, wanted to tag along. Mom and Dad were fighting as usual so I agreed, figured it might be good to get him out of the house. First mistake. My second mistake was letting him drink. Chris is only sixteen but it’s not like I didn’t drink a couple of beers at parties when I was his age, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. And he was having a good time, not sloppy or anything, just a little buzzed. We drove down in Breanna’s Jeep but she wanted to party, so I offered to be the designated driver and drive back home. Didn’t feel right getting wasted with Chris there anyway.’
She shifts how she’s sitting and I see her hands sticking out of the too-long sleeves of her coat. Her nails are still painted pink like they were last Sunday. It’s almost enough to throw me off but I close my eyes, and just like that, I’m back in Beaufort.
‘Day turns into night, everyone’s having a good time, but Breanna has to get back for curfew. Did you know her dad is a state representative?’
‘No?’
‘And a first-class asshole to boot,’ I say. ‘She’s twenty years old and has to be home by eleven, like anything that might embarrass him is scheduled for midnight onwards. Anyhow, it’s time for us to go and Bre is insisting she drives. There’s no way I’m letting that happen, but she is so drunk and kicking up such a fuss, she won’t give me the keys. So, in the end, we compromise. She gives them to Chris.’
When I told Clive this same story he watched me like he was observing me like an animal in a zoo. But Mia, she’s staring at me with those big blue eyes, her lips are quivering, like she’s trying not to cry, and I hate that it’s my fault.
‘I swear, Mia, I thought he’d had two beers and that was it. I checked a bunch of times, made sure he switched to soda, made sure he ate something. He seemed fine. What I didn’t know is how he’d been adding liquor to that soda. A bunch of the guys had flasks, whiskey, vodka, tequila, and I don’t know how much he’d had but as soon as we pulled onto the parkway, I knew something was wrong. I’m in the back, the two of them up front, blasting music and yelling, and Breanna keeps grabbing the wheel like it’s some kind of joke. But what could I do? I’m stuck in the back, sober and terrified. So we’re almost home and I’m ready to rip them both a new one when it happens. Giant dog runs out from nowhere, Chris swerves one way, Bre grabs the wheel and pulls the other, and we skid right off the road. Chris must’ve kept his foot down because we didn’t stop until we hit a tree.’
‘Ethan.’ Mia brings her fingers up to cover her mouth.
‘When I came to, Bre was already out of the car but Chris was trapped between the door and the tree. I knew if the cops came, they would breathalyse us and I couldn’t let a dumb accident ruin his life. A DUI follows you everywhere, you know? No college,no job, no future. He was kind of mumbling and moving around so, I pulled him out of the car. Breanna always liked Chris and she knew her dad was gonna kill her if he found out how wasted she was or that she let a drunk sixteen-year-old drive her Jeep, so she agreed to go with it. By the time the cops showed up and the ambulance arrived, me and Bre had our story straight. I was the only one of us who had a chance of blowing under the limit, so it made sense to say I was the one driving.
‘No one pressed charges, it was an accident and the only laws that got broke were underage drinking, just a misdemeanour. Breanna’s dad made some noise about suing us in civil court but that would’ve meant telling the world his little girl blew a 0.12 on the fourth of July so that went away, on the condition I agreed to leave Marshall and break up with Bre. She was more than happy to go along with him, didn’t even blink. I guess I should’ve seen it coming. Things hadn’t been so great between us for a while.’
‘And Chris?’
‘Chris was in a coma for two days. Even when he came around, tissue around his spine was so swollen, the doctors couldn’t tell if he was permanently injured or not.’
I throw up my arms then let them fall to my sides, hands clapping against my thighs. I drop onto the bench, exhausted.
‘You took the blame for all of it? You didn’t even tell your parents the truth?’
‘I didn’t tell anyone the truth.’
Leaning forward, I let my hair fall in front of my face as I stare at the tiled floor.
‘Easier to stick to the same story with everyone. Once Chris was back home, Dad agreed to Mr Kershaw’s “suggestions”, pulled some strings and donated a fuckton of money to get me last-minuteadmission to Hemden. They were happy to have me join the team and even happier to finally have the cash to build a new aquatics centre. No one asks questions when they don’t want to.’
My eyes are still trained on the tiles when I see the black toecaps of her boots appear in front of me. I still can’t bring myself to look up when she sits down on the bench, one cautious hand on my back. I feel it through my shirt and I don’t know if I can keep it together much longer. She’s touching me, she’s touching me, she’s touching me.
‘I had a plan,’ I say. ‘Keep myself to myself, tell no one about the accident and make it through the year without getting into trouble. Then I met you.’
