Offside

My shoulders tensed as I thought about what I had just done and said. What the fuck was I going to do now? She knew. Somehow she knew even before I said it, but she didn’t understand why he had to do it. I’d taken everything that mattered from him, and he had every right to be pissed about it.

“It’s not his fault,” I said again, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the rain. I coughed, my throat still hurting.

“What happened?”

“He was drinking the night before,” I said. “He had too much. He doesn’t usually drink at all…just that day. He was angry, but he didn’t mean it. I just fell.”

“You fell?” she repeated. “How did you fall?”

“He only just…pushed me away,” I told her. “There’s one of those vanity table things—some antique—in the hallway. I cracked my rib on that. It wasn’t his fault; it was mine.”

“He pushed you,” Nicole said, “and you hit a table, and that’s when your rib broke?”

“Yeah.”

“How exactly is that your fault?” she asked quietly.

“It’s all my fault,” I said. My arms tightened around her, and I ducked my forehead into her shoulder. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”

“My dad said it was a car accident.”

“But she wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for me.” I proceeded to tell her about my forgotten gloves and how Mom went back for them.

“It was an accident,” Nicole insisted when I was done. “Everyone forgets things sometimes…”

“I don’t anymore,” I mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“It never would have happened if it weren’t for me,” I growled under my breath. “Would she have even been in the car then if I hadn’t forgotten my gloves? Huh?”

“That’s not the point, Thomas. You were just a kid…”

“That didn’t stop it from happening,” I said, “and it doesn’t change the fact that if I hadn’t been so fucking stupid, she’d be alive now.”

“You are not responsible—”

“Yes, I am!” I yelled as I pushed away from her, wincing and grabbing my side. Moving away didn’t work, so I just dropped my head back on her shoulder again. “Tell me she still would have been on that road if I had remembered all my shit! Go ahead. Tell me she would still have had a reason to drive back home! You can’t, can you? And you know why? Because it’s my fucking fault!”

Nicole leaned back against the seat and tilted her head to look at me, her expression pained.

“Even if it was,” she said, “and I am not agreeing with you, but even if the accident was your fault, that doesn’t mean he gets to treat you like this now. It happened six years ago.”

“It’s six years later, and she’s still gone,” I said, repeating Dad’s words to me from the previous day. “Nothing changes.”

“It’s supposed to change,” Nicole insisted, “but you guys are stuck.”

I closed my eyes and thought about the word stuck for a while. I had to admit it did kind of fit.

“Thomas, you need to tell someone about this,” Nicole said softly. “My dad could—”

“No!” I turned my head to hers and gripped her waist. “No, Nicole! You promised! You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Nicole shook her head.

“I won’t,” she said. “I just think you should.”

I tried to take a deep breath, but between the uncomfortable position in the car and my rib, it wasn’t working well. I didn’t want to let go of her, though. Even if I couldn’t breathe at all, holding her and feeling her hands in my hair was good. I didn’t want to ever let go.