Page 55 of Off Sides

“It’s not his fault,” Calvin says. “This was all me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I say firmly as I look at Calvin. His lip is split, and his hair is a mess, but otherwise, he doesn’t look too bad after the fight. I look up at Micah. “You know it’s true.”

“What was I supposed to do. I didn’t witness anything.”

“Bullshit,” I say, looking over at Adler and Shields with fury. “You saw. You had to have. If I did, you did.”

Micah actually looks a little ashamed. “They shut up when I’m near.” He looks over at Calvin. “I begged you to talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Coach,” Calvin says but no, we are not doing this.

“Don’t be sorry. This is not your fault,” I say clearly and then look at Micah. “Maybe your hands were tied with not actually witnessing it and Calvin not making some sort of formal report, but you know everyone has a breaking point.”

“He fucking attacked me,” Adler says, playing the victim, and I’m about to lay his ass out again when Micah gets in between us and marches over to him.

“You cost us this game. You can’t pull your head out of your ass for one minute and look past the hatred you were no doubt taught from day one in this town to play the game with your team. And now, it’s over.”

Adler looks at him, disgusted. “Did you know about them coach? Sucking each other off after games.”

“Watch. Your. Mouth,” Micah says, and okay, even I sit down now after that chilling delivery. Guess Micah can be a little intimidating.

“Whatever. Like you said, it’s over. You’re not my coach now.” He rips his jersey off and hastily gets dressed before all of us do the same in total, defeated silence.

Everyone leaves with their heads hanging down until it’s just Micah, Calvin, and me. “You two need ice,” Micah says, but I stop him when he goes to find the ice packs.

“I’m sorry about losing the game. But I’m not sorry Adler and Shields got what was coming to them,” I say.

“You think it will change anything?” Micah asks and waits for my answer.

My gut sinks because no. No, I don’t. A bully is a bully. People rarely change. “They’re assholes always, but at least they got some of the pain back.”

Micah looks sad as he turns to Calvin. “I am really sorry I didn’t do anything.”

“What could you have done?” Calvin asks seriously. “I wouldn’t tell you what they did, and technically, they never really hurt me or put their hands on me.”

I beg to differ I’ve seen them shoulder-check him into a wall several times, but I keep quiet.

“I should have done more,” Micah says solemnly. “Adults have that responsibility at a school. I should have done more, and I hope you can forgive me.”

Calvin’s eyes grow huge as he looks up at my brother, still perched on the bench next to me. “

“I’m the one who just got us eliminated from the playoffs.”

And the next sentence reminds me why I love my brother so much. “Fuck the playoffs. This is more important.” He reaches out his hand in offering to Calvin, who shakes it hesitantly, like he’s still waiting for the verbal ass kicking.

But it never comes because I know Micah. I know he feels responsible, and maybe I feel a little guilty for that, but it was time.

“We should go home. We have ice packs there.”

“Uh . . .” Calvin starts and then looks to me.

“Oh, um, Micah said no camping tonight. It’s too cold.” He looks disappointed but understanding.

“Okay, yeah.” He stands up, and his body is definitely stiff, one of the fuckers hit him pretty hard in the ribs. “I should probably go face my parents anyway. Though, I might be sleeping out in the cold anyway.” He tries to joke, but I stand up too, ready to speak my mind, but it’s Micah who talks first.

He places both hands on Calvin’s bigass shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “If they do anything to you, and I mean anything, you call me or you call the police. Anytime. You do not have to take their abuse, you hear me? And you will never sleep out in the cold. You come to me anytime. Okay?”

He cocks his head to the side and studies my brother cautiously, like he’s not sure this is real. “Okay.”