Page 53 of Saving the Halfback

I thoughtabout what to say or how to approach while still respecting the boundaries, but Chase wasn’t having the silence. “What’d she say?”

I rolled my eyes. “What makes you think I’m talking to her?”

“Oh.” His character moved around a bit, then stopped. “But…it was her, right?”

“Yes. She said she’s okay.”

“Ugh, girls say that when they aren’t. Just make sure she knows she can go to you. You know…if that guy is still bugging her.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, then baited him. “Who cares? She’s just some chick. If she keeps going to him, I’m not stopping her.” I wished she would go to him, lead me to him, so I could slit his—

Shit. I grabbed my forgotten joint and took another toke, pulling it deep until the thoughts became a fog.

Chase was silent for a moment, his character in the game going into a tavern. I followed him in. “You're probably right.” His voice seemed strained. “There’s a horde of goblins in the north rings. We should wipe them out and collect their loot.”

We played in silence, more than usual. “You good?” I asked after we had slayed the last of the goblins.

“Yeah. Fuck it. Step up.”

“What?”

“Man, I get we only know each other online, but if your friend has a problem, you gotta be there. Don’t… Don’t…” He cleared his throat. “Eventually, it will be too late. Don’t let it be too late.” What did he mean by that? “I gotta go. Meet you tomorrow night,” he quickly said before signing off. It was how he always said goodbye—meet you tomorrow—but this time, it was heavy. He was bothered.

Did he think it was too late for him? An ache settled in my rib cage, right under my sternum. If only Chase knew who he was talking to. If only he knew who I was talking about. It blew my mind that this guy was more of a brother than my biological brother had been.

Was it too late for all of us, or was this his declaration of regret?

20

Bailey

Saturday

The tears refused to stop as I lay in bed. The police officers were here to ask about Ed’s accident. They said the questions were for insurance purposes, but it felt like an interrogation. Or what I imagined an interrogation to be like. I told them the same story I’d told my parents.

When Dad tried to pull up the footage of that day on his computer, it wasn’t there. The entire day was wiped.

“That happens sometimes,” Dad explained to the officer. “The signals are difficult around here, and we switched all the cameras to Wi-Fi. Over the summer, I noticed a few days here and there were missing.”

I was so scared. No matter how many times I told myself this was standard, this was normal, I had nothing to worry about, I couldn’t help but think they were going to call me on the lie and put me in cuffs.Creak…bang.

Then, just before they left, they dropped the bombshell. “The good news is, the doctors are starting to see signs of recovery,” one of the officers had said. “Can’t say much, but your farm hand may be coming around.”

Creak, bang.

“I’ll have to check in on him,” Dad said. “I feel terrible for all that has happened.”

With that, the officers left.

Creeeeeeak, BANG.

“Stop it!” I yelled, jumping up out of bed and looking outside.

The sun was just beginning to rise, illuminating the garden shed door, the light reflecting off the shiny new lock my father had placed on it the other day.

“It’s all in your head, princess.” Ed’s voice drifted from the other side of the room.

“You’re in my head,” I said, not taking my eyes off the shed, waiting for the door to open and make that godawful noise again.