Page 90 of Off Sides
Nick lets me fall apart, lets me need him, encourages it even. The shell of who I am in this house doesn’t fit anymore. It’s too small, too tight, suffocating. I don’t want to wear it anymore, but I don’t know who I am here without it. I’ve worn this costume for so long, how do I change it? Sometimes it feels like it’s become attached to me, like a growth, maybe tattooed into my skin, so I can’t escape it. At school, with the team, the mask is similar, familiar. Until I’m alone with Nick. He sees past the front to the core of who I am and reaches out for the broken kid who never got a chance to grieve. The broken kid who’s afraid of a hand up, afraid of comfort, but craves it just the same. I crave it. Crave him. Crave who I’m allowed to be when I’m with him.
My phone goes off with a text notification from Brendon Oiler.
OILER:
Theoretically, if rotting chicken was found in someone's dorm, and if the person who put it there was proven, would it get that person kicked off the team?
What the actual fuck.
CARPPY:
I swear to God, if you put raw chicken in someone's dorm, I’m not saving you from Coach.
OILER:
What???
I would never.
I can’t believe you would think that of me.
CARPPY:
Where is Paul? Do I have to call Preston or is it his room you want to fuck with?
I love this guy but he’s a mess.
OILER:
I mean, I’ve thought about messing with P Man BUT he’s scary.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, I sigh and shake my head. While the season is over, some of the guys still come to me when they have issues. I was the captain this year and I’ve been here for four years, the guys know me, respect me, and trust me. Usually.
The oven starts beeping so I put my phone away and hope against hope that Brendon doesn’t put chicken in someone’s dorm room. I should probably text Paul…
“Damn, that smells amazing!” Charlotte comes in, sniffing the air. “Do I smell garlic bread too?”
I set the lasagna on the stove to cool, the cheese melted and bubbling, while I cook the bread.
“Of course.”
Charlotte sets the table without having to be asked. It was always one of her tasks. I cooked, she set the table, and Matt was supposed to do dishes but more times than not, I did them. He couldn’t be bothered to help. Hell, most of the time he would eat in his room anyway.
Matt hobbles his way to a chair and plops down in it. “Where’s the boy toy? He still in nursing school?” The sarcastic tone grates on my nerves and I’ve had it with his shit.
“At least he’s doing something with his life,” she snaps. “You know, other than being a burden on everyone around him.”
“He’s a fucking lame ass,” Matt scoffs.
“Shut up, Mathew.” My tone is hard but not full of emotion. It’s cold.
“Why? What do you care? You’re just gonna leave in a few days anyway, right? Stop pretending to care about any of us.”
“What the hell, Matt?” Charlotte crosses her arms on the other side of the table. “You and Mom seem to be the only ones who don’t see how much Joey does for this family. Do you really think he would be here, taking care of you during spring break, if he didn’t care?”
Matt shoves the chair back and awkwardly gets to his feet. “Sorry I’m such a burden.”
“You are a fucking burden! To literally everyone around you! How do you not see that?” Charlotte isn’t holding back anymore and a part of me is struggling to let her go after him like this. Mom has always protected him and blamed anything he did wrong on me. He was the baby, he didn’t know any better, he’s just a kid.