Page 2 of Off Sides

Josh and I push our way through the students, all chanting and itching to watch the show. I’m almost to Matt when Evan pulls a switchblade out of his pocket and flicks it open.

What the fuck!

My heart starts to race as fear for my brother floods my system. He can’t get hurt. Mom will kill me. It’s my responsibility to keep him safe.

I’ve failed.

“Shit,” Josh mutters under his breath. “You grab Matt, I’ll get Evan.”

“You’re a fucking pussy!” Matt yells at Evan. “You’re so scared of getting your ass beat you brought a knife!”

Shut the fuck up!

If we make it out of this without getting stabbed, I’m going to beat his ass myself.

I’m to the front of the crowd and Josh is almost in position, but I can see the next movement before it happens. Evan’s body tenses and he lunges for Matt. I yell “No” and dive for my brother, shoving him out of the way, but I’m not fast enough.

Evan’s blade arcs through the air, slicing Matt’s arm open. Girls in the crowd scream, and there’s a wrestling sound behind me that I’m hoping is Josh getting the knife from Evan because I’m too focused on my stupid brother to check.

Blood trails down his arm, dripping onto the floor. Matt’s face is a mixture of fear and adrenaline. The pain hasn’t hit him yet, but it will.

I grab his arm and force him down the hallway away from everyone before turning to look at him.

“Oh my God!” Charlotte yells when she catches up to us and sees the blood. “Is he okay? What the fuck, Matt?!”

She smacks his other arm and I lift the bleeding one up to get a better look. It’s pretty deep.

“You might need stitches,” I sigh. That means Mom is definitely going to find out about this. We’re so fucked.

“No, just wrap it up. I’m fine.” His face pales at the idea of going to the hospital and since I’ve been playing hockey most of my life, none of us are shy about blood or wounds. We know how to take care of cuts and nose bleeds.

“You’re not fine.” I shove him into the boys’ bathroom so I can clean it up and get a better look. Charlotte apparently gives no fucks and follows after us.

“You can’t be in here.” Matt glares at her but all she does is lift an eyebrow at him.

“You’re an idiot,” she scoffs and pulls a first aid kit from her backpack.

I look at her, confused as to why she carries that around with her. It must show on my face because she rolls her eyes at me.

“Between hockey and this ass running his mouth, I never know who’s going to be bleeding or when.” She hands me the case and I set it on the sink, clicking the lid open. She has a point.

I get the cut cleaned up, listening to the teachers in the hallway yelling at students to break it up and hauling Evan and Josh to the office. A few people are loud enough for me to hear them say Evan was fighting Matt while Josh was trying to be helpful. It’s only a matter of time before they notice the blood on the floor and follow it in here. Matt is going to be suspended at best, expelled at worst. What the hell am I supposed to do if he’s suspended? I can’t miss that much school just to sit with his ass at home.

The cut is on Matt’s inner, upper arm and the edges don’t want to stay together.

“I don’t have butterflies, you need stitches,” I tell him, again.

“Please, Joey. I don’t want Mom to know.” He sounds like a little kid and it breaks my heart a little.

Glancing up at him, I see the tears welling in his eyes and the slight tremble of his lip. Charlotte puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at me for answers I don’t have.

“There’s no way we can hide this from her.” I find some antibacterial ointment and slather it on some gauze then wrap it as best I can, but it doesn’t take long for blood to seep through. “I’m sorry, man, you have to go. I can’t fix this.”

A sob escapes him and he covers his face with his good hand. I pull him into my chest and wrap my arms around him in a hug. Charlotte wipes a tear from her eye and I pull her into me too. For just a second, we stand there and the weight of the world is heavy on my shoulders. None of us want to burden Mom. She works so hard to keep us afloat, but she still has Dad’s medical bills on top of everything else. Cancer is not a cheap disease. It takes everything from you then demands more.

The door opens and Mr. Phillips stops in the doorway.

“Miss Carpenter, what are you doing in here?” he asks quietly.

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