Offside

“You are going to make my head explode,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?” I questioned back.

“You are a total jerk at school,” she pointed out.

I laughed through my nose.

“Don’t hold back,” I advised. “It’ll give you ulcers.”

“You are an ass on the field.”

“That’s a whole different costume,” I replied without thinking.

“Costume?” Nicole stopped her rant long enough to look up at me with her brow furrowed.

I glanced down and tapped the lapel of my tuxedo jacket with my thumb.

“This is a whole different costume from my team uniform,” I explained.

“So what,” she exclaimed, “you become a whole other person because you are in a different…costume?”

The Bard’s words rolled off my tongue without permission.

“All the world’s a stage, Rumple,” I said with a wink.

“And all the men and women merely players,” she continued. She smiled and raised her eyebrows at me.

I spun her around in a slow circle and then brought her back close.

“They have their exits and their entrances,” I quoted. “And one man in his time plays many parts.”

Her smile broadened, and she was stunning. My chest clenched, and breathing became more difficult. I lost my step in the dance.

I wanted to know her.

I wanted her to know me.

Not the jerk at school.

Not the guy in the tux.

Not the goalie on the field.

Just me.

But I didn’t know who that was.

As my mind raced, the idea of spending more time with her and just…talking to her became more and more appealing. At the same time, it terrified me. I could see myself telling Nicole quite a bit—maybe far too much. What would she think of my drawings? Did she like classical music? Would she think it was all just a stupid waste of time? What if she found out how messed up my head was? She already thought I was an ass, and I couldn’t really deny the fit of the name—I was certainly no sweet-smelling rose. What would she think if she knew even my own father couldn’t stand me? What if she found out why he hated me so much?

What would she think if she found out I killed my own mother?

In Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, Launcelot said, “but at the length truth will out.” Somehow, I would have to keep her in the dark about how horrible I really was.

Now how could I do that?

CHAPTER 5

HOOLIGANS