Page 84 of Off Sides

The sound of breaking glass has me hurrying back inside, Josh on my heels. The living room is clear, Josh heads for the kitchen while I head down the hallway to the bathroom. I never should have left Matt unsupervised this long. Fuck. He probably went searching for the pills but I have them stashed in my room.

“Not in here,” Josh calls as I am forcing my way into the bathroom. Something is blocking the door from opening more than a crack but the medicine cabinet mirror is shattered and there’s blood sprinkled all over the counter.

“Matt! Open the fucking door!”

No response.

Fuck.

Adrenaline courses through me, shutting down everything that isn’t needed for me to get into this bathroom and make sure Matt is okay.

“Josh!”

He’s with me in an instant, helping me push on the door until I can force my way through. Matt is on the floor unconscious and shards of broken glass are everywhere. There’s a cut somewhere on his head that’s bleeding onto the white-and-blue linoleum and he’s blocking the door.

Shards of glass pierce my bare feet and I hiss as I drop down to check his pulse. He has one; it feels like a heartbeat, but what the fuck do I know?

“Call an ambulance, I don’t want to try to move him if something happened to his neck.”

Josh doesn’t question it, just does what I’ve asked. It’s like I never left. We were a team when we were together. He helped me the best he could with Matt and Char when he wasn’t taking care of his mom.

Matt groans and starts to move.

“Hold still,” I snap at him. I don’t know what happened in here but I have a pretty good idea it was his fault and not an accident.

“My head,” Matt moans, lifting his hand to it.

“Yeah, I bet it hurts. You probably gave yourself a fucking concussion.” Now that I’m pretty sure he’ll live, I take a better look around the room. One of his crutches is in the shower upside down, the other one is bent and sticking out of the toilet. What the fuck was he trying to do?

“Ambulance is on its way,” Josh says through the door.

“I don’t need a damn ambulance,” Matt mutters and tries to sit up but puts his hand in glass and hisses.

“What were you doing?” My feet are screaming now that the adrenaline is fading. “Josh, can you grab the broom?”

“Trying to take a piss, that okay with you?” Matt snaps. “Do I need permission for that too?”

“Really? You what, slipped and caused all this damage?” Mom is going to be furious over the broken mirror. I’ll have to find a way to replace it and make sure the broken glass doesn’t get tracked all over the house.

The broom handle is shoved through the crack in the door and I thank Josh before starting to clear the floor. Why am I always cleaning up Matt’s messes? Everyone just shrugs and says ‘that’s Matt’ and moves on but God forbid I fuck up. I would never hear the end of it.

Once enough of the glass is cleaned up, Matt sits up and Josh is able to get the door open. There’s a decent pool of blood too since head wounds bleed like crazy. I grab a towel and press it to the cut in his hair, telling him to hold it.

The EMTs arrive a few minutes later and Josh brings them back here.

They take a quick look around the room, ask what happened, and get him on the gurney. Since he was knocked unconscious, they are adamant about him going in and getting checked out, so he does, but I don’t go with him. Fuck that. I’ll get enough of an earful from Mom when she gets home, I don’t need to be at the hospital with him when she lays into me.

Josh gets the vacuum and together we get the rest of the mirror cleaned up and pull all the glass from my feet. How am I going to do this for another four days?

I drop down onto the couch and let my head fall back. I hate this place. Hate what it represents. Hate the memories that haunt every inch of it. Even the happy memories have been tainted.

Josh comes in from outside—when did he leave?—and hands me a beer from the six-pack he’s carrying. I take it and lift it to my lips.

“I was planning to drink these on my own later but figured you would probably need one.” He sits next to me, taking the middle seat. His thigh is against mine but I don’t mind. It’s quiet, the calm before the storm that I know is imminent, but, to be honest, I want to be gone before it gets here.

“Can we go somewhere?” I peel the label on the bottle.

Josh pats my knee and stands, offering me a hand up without a word.

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