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“Dad!” I get up off the bed and run for him. I wrap my arm around him for a hug. He wraps an arm around me, patting me on the back, then steps back and holds my good shoulder.
“Where is your mother?”
Tears fill my eyes, and my lip trembles as I shake my head. I can’t say the words. A couple of nurses in green-blue scrubs pull him off me.
“Sir, you can’t just burst back here! Who are you looking for?” the lady with black glasses and long brown hair in a ponytail asks him.
“Heather Johnson. She was in an accident with my son.” He points to me, almost angry as he demands answers.
The nurses look at each other for a second before the same one speaks again. “Sir, if you’ll come with us, we’ll fill you in on the situation.”
“No! Where is my wife?” He’s yelling now, and I flinch back. I’ve never heard him like this, and honestly, it scares me. Grandma wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into her while I cry on her shirt.
“Ryan.” Grandma uses that soft tone she uses with me when she knows something is about to hurt my feelings. “Please go with them.”
He stares at her, red-faced and breathing too hard with his hands on his hips before his face falls.
“No. She’s not.” He drops to his knees, and a heart-shattering yell echoes in the room. Grandma approaches him and wraps her arms around his shoulders with tears running down her face.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats like this is her fault.
It was my fault, though, wasn’t it? Because she turned to look at me. I’m the reason we crashed.
Guilt eats at me.I’m the reason Mom died.
“They hit a bear on the highway doing sixty-five.” Grandma’s words are quiet but teary while I’m frozen to the floor. I’ve never seen my father break down like this. It’s terrifying and has me sinking to the floor with tears once again streaming down my face but no sound coming from my mouth.
Grandma reaches for me, but I can’t move. All I can do is stare at my father while he grieves the loss of Mom. Maybe I don’t want to find a love like theirs after all. If this is what it feels like when I lose them, I don’t want anything like it.
Dad starts banging his fists on the floor as he yells, then stands abruptly and storms out. Grandma gasps and covers her mouth with her hand as she watches him leave. The door slams against the wall on his way out, and all I can do is stare.
He left me here.
Happy birthday to me.
Brendon – Five Years Ago
The game is over, and we’re trudging back to the locker room, sweaty and exhausted, but everyone is happy. We won, even though we were a mess out there. I was anyway. Every fuckup plays on repeat in my head, and I know Chad and his goons will take it out on me. They always do. My gut tightens, and my mouth goes dry at the thought. I don’t want to deal with them today. They’ve been getting worse lately, leaving marks that I’ve lied to my parents about, just brushing the bruises off as hockey injuries.
At my cubby, I strip as fast as I can, shower and get dressed with anxiety nipping at my heels to make me move faster. I keep count of how many teammates are still around and where the coaches are. Who’s still around and how long I have before I’m alone with my terrors.
Get out while you still can.
After pulling my jacket on, I’m straightening my tie when the laughter that haunts me echoes in the locker room.
My stomach rolls, and bile threatens to choke me as my hands pause on the silk. Fear has me freezing, gluing me in place despite knowing that makes me an easy target. My ears pick up every footfall from the four of them, their breathing, the smacking of bubble gum in John’s mouth. I’m hyperaware of everything but can’t do anything to stop whatever is about to happen.
The blank mask I’ve perfected since starting on this team falls over my face on instinct. Can’t let anyone know about the pain, the bullying, the terror.Be a man. Don’t show any weakness. Weakness makes you a pussy.
Chad steps in front of me with a smile that promises pain on his face. His friends create a shield around us, like I have any chance of getting away, and crowd my space. I never had claustrophobia issues, but the last few months, I do. I hate feeling trapped.
“M-my mom is waiting.” I stumble through the lie and hope like hell it works. Almost everyone knows my parents work full-time to put food on the table and rarely make it on time for pickup.
Chad is always the last one here since he’s Coach Williams’s stepson. That man shouldn’t be in charge of kids. He doesn’t give a fuck about the bullying his stepson doles out. I’ve tried talking to him about it, and he tells me to stop being a pussy.
“You know, birdy, you’re a shitty liar.”
“You know what my mom used to do to me when she caught me lying?” Garret, the black-haired boy with evil in his eyes, says. “Washed my mouth out with soap.”
