Page 130 of Saving the Halfback

I wasn’t sure what he was sorry for. I didn’t even think he knew what he was sorry for.

47

Chase

Friday

The air was heavy, plastering me to the bed, holding me down, holding me hostage. The coughing fit that wracked my body wasn’t as violent as they had been in the beginning, a sign of healing. But if I was healing, why did I feel so broken? If I had been saved, why did I still feel gone?

The only thing that marked the passing days were the nights I heard Bailey’s sweet voice shushing a neighbor’s dog from barking, cursing at the banging of a door I’d failed to hear. Was I so out of it that I was no longer hearing what was happening around me? Was I even here?

That thought passed through my consciousness often—what if I hadn’t survived? What if my soul had already passed, and it was just my body left behind, taking space but not feeling the air? The heavy, heavy air.

I needed time to recover—I knew that—but at what point was I recovered? Maybe…just a little longer. Just another few minutes…or an hour, at least. Maybe today.

I vaguely remembered the sound of a motorcycle outside; it was loud and different from the usual sounds of ATVs or the oddtractor. It should’ve been my first warning, but it ended up being my only one.

At the dip in the bed, I opened my eyes to Lachlan’s grinning face. “Morning, sunshine. Fuck, have you ever heard of a shower?”

I closed my eyes, not ready to deal with him, then I opened them and frowned. “I showered last night.” But no, I hadn’t. Was that last night? What day was it?

“The stench coming off your pits tells me that’s a lie. How is Bailey not gagging, sleeping in the room right next to yours?”

“Fuck off,” I grumbled and rolled over to my other side.

“Nope, not happening, Chase.” Lachlan grabbed the sheet that covered me. I had thrown the blanket off a while ago, after getting too warm wrapped up in it.

I glared at my soon-to-be-former best friend. “This isn’t the time to push me or fool around.” I pulled the sheet back.

Lachlan got up on his knees and yanked the sheet, but I was already prepared and clutching it tightly. Still, he pulled so hard, he forced me to sit up. “I swear to god, if I have to see her wipe one more tear away in the morning because of you, I will murder you.”

I pulled back even harder on the sheet, almost causing him to fall forward, but he caught himself. “I toldherI was fine. She’s giving me space, and you should do the same!”

“Well, I won’t!” he growled, pulling the sheet until I was forced to get on my knees, both of us now playing tug-of-war with the fabric. “You don’t get any more space! I don’t care how much you sulk about it, you’re not going to be able to shit without one of us knowing about it!”

I could feel the anger boiling inside of me. “Why?” I yelled at him.

Lachlan grinned, the only warning I got before he let go of the sheet, sending me flying backward onto the floor and knockingthe wind out of me. With my feet still on the bed, and the rest of my body lying on the ground, Lachlan got off the bed and bent down so his face was in mine. “Because, punk, we fucking love you. Now, take a damn shower and come downstairs. Mom made breakfast.”

With that, he left.

I glared in his general direction because looking at him or where he left would mean having to tilt my head upside down. For some reason, though, I got up.

I wasn’t in my body as I grabbed a fresh set of clothes from the duffel bag in the corner of the room, and something about that was reassuring, because if I didn’t feel in my body, did that mean I was in my soul? My mind? Was I still here? Alive?

“Fucking love you,” I spat out as I shampooed my hair for the third time, or fourth, I was stalling. “What the fuck does that mean?” I grumbled and ranted about his words while brushing my teeth, getting dressed, then eventually heading downstairs. I was ready to rip Lachlan a new one, but the words died on my tongue.

Ethan stood beside the dining room table, setting it like Martha fucking Stewart. “Eggs?” he asked, scooping a spoonful onto a plate without waiting for my reply. He looked grim.

“You okay, Eth?” I asked.

“Don’t change the subject,” Lachlan snapped, walking into the room with pill bottles.

“I’ve been pulling extra hours at the shop to get away from my dad,” Ethan said, ignoring Lachlan. He sat down. I wanted to offer him a place to stay, only this wasn’t my place. I wanted to offer him food or help, anything, but how could I do that when I had nothing myself? I always knew I’d grown up privileged, and I didn’t know what to do without that privilege.

Ethan reached out and added three slices of bacon to my plate, as well as a scoop of hash browns. I ate—that’s how Ihelped Ethan. He worried about me now, so I gave him one less thing to worry about. I sat down beside him and pulled the plate across, so it was in front of me. “Did you make this?”

That got a chuckle out of him. “No, Bailey’s mom did.” I looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. “She’s out on the porch.”

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