On Saturday Dora drags me to a rugby match because Jacob is playing and she wants to support him. Okay, I know it's a bad idea showing up in a public place where everyone knows your face and keeps laughing at you. I know that I shouldn't go, but she talks me into this. When I get there I can see it's a big mistake. Dora shouts, cheering for Jacob, and I sit there noticing that Mackenzie and a few of her friends are giving me dirty stares.
The problem is that Dora insisted on sitting in the first row, so she could be close to Jacob, which also means that I'm close to Oliver. It’s clear I shot myself in the foot, but I can't leave now, drawing more attention to myself. Dora doesn't get what the big deal is. Her reputation isn't ruined so it's not her problem.
“Come on, Jacob, come on,” Dora shouts, standing up. I don't even get why she pretends that she likes rugby. On the way to the stadium she complained that it's freezing today and she would rather stay at home. “Hey, listen do you see that guy with blond hair that just went into the field?”
“Yeah,” I reply, thinking of the times when I was a cheerleader when Christian was playing. It was such a cliché. At that time I didn't know what he was capable of.
“His name is Russell, and he just transferred from somewhere in north Wales,” Dora explains.
“And is he going to be your next boyfriend or something?” I ask, curious. Dora never was a monogamist type, but since Jacob there hasn't been anyone else, so maybe people can change.
“Don't be silly. I'm sticking to Jacob. I'm just saying that you might have a free window. He is new, probably available, and handsome.”
I hate her insinuations and already dislike her new idea. Russell is built like Oliver, but his hair is light blond. A warm tingle travels through me when I look at him, but then I shake my head. I won't get involved with anyone in Braxton, not while Oliver is here.
“I won't date him and stop matching me up with the first available guy that you see. Let me find the restroom,” I say and rush away, just as Oliver grabs a bottle of water from the bench near me. His gaze scans over my body, but he doesn't make eye contact. He wrinkles his forehead and smirks like someone just told him a very good joke. I can still feel his eyes on my back when I hurry away, squeezing between people.
I hear a whisper as I pass. “That’s her, the one from the photo and that party,”
“Go on ask her; she should be available.”
God, even when the attention of the whole school is focused on the field ahead, people are still talking about me. It's like no one wants to forget.
The following day I'm in the canteen eating my lunch and trying to remember the outcome of the case that I had to prepare for today’s lecture, but I keep getting distracted. Oliver is having his lunch with a few other guys from the team. He is celebrating his victory from Sunday. Mackenzie is on his lap and she seems to be enjoying herself tremendously. It's been a few weeks since the atrocious party where I made a complete fool of myself, so I have to be aware of everyone right now.
“Hey, India.” I hear Dora, who approaches my table with Jacob and the new guy that she pointed out to me during the match. Now I have him in front of me, so I can look at him for a bit longer. People are staring at us, like something is just about to happen. Even Oliver stops laughing and he is paying attention to what’s going on around my table. I have radar in my head. I know when he acknowledges me, because I get that unexpected cold chill that travels up and down my body.
“Hey, Dora, Jacob, what's up?” I ask, giving them a light smile.
“Do you mind if Jacob and Russell sit with us today?” she asks, winking at me. I shrug my shoulder, nodding, and get back to my book. Dora sits by me, Jacob and Russell opposite. I don't know what she is playing at, but I don't like it, not even a bit. “This is Russell, and this is my best friend, India.”
“Hey,” I say and keep ignoring this obvious setup. She knows that Russell is probably Oliver's mate by now, which means that he already knows that I'm the famous loser that everyone is talking about.
“So what are you reading up there?” asks a deep amused voice. I lift my eyes from the book, seeing a pure green gaze. His hair is too long, falling low on his square forehead. He has a nice smile and wide handsome face.
“It's a case for my public law module,” I reply, trying to concentrate on reading while Dora is chatting away with Jacob. She shouldn't try to make me happy.
“Are you always so friendly, or just sometimes?” he teases. I lift my head and close the book feeling angry. Russell is staring at me smirking; then he picks up a chip off my plate. I turn to look at Oliver, and he is still staring, probably trying to see if I fall for the same bullshit again like I fell for Alex.
“I’m not friendly at all,” I say flexing my fingers. I have to play cold. Maybe he’ll go away.
“That’s strange because your friend here mentioned that you're pretty funny.”
“She might be a little shy,” Dora adds.
“Thank you very much, Dor, but I can speak for myself and I'm not shy,” I reply abruptly, then take my book and walk away.
“It was nice meeting you,” he shouts, but I don't reply. People must be very stupid if they think that Russell would be a guy that I would date after what went on with Alexander.
The rest of my day drags and in the evening I pop into the library. It's dark when I leave, so I call my mum. We have a quick chat about Braxton and Josephine. I decide to grab some food for this evening from the local supermarket. Jacob is supposed to be staying in tonight and I'm sick of ordering pizza. It's time for me to cook a decent meal for all of us.
“We meet again,” says a familiar voice when I reach for some pasta. I turn around and my smile fades when I see Russell with a shopping basket.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask with slight blush. “Yeah, you are shopping. That was a lame question.”
“Don't worry, I come in here just to check out pretty girls, pretending that I'm shopping. Should we start again?”
“I don't think so. I'm really busy and I’ve got to rush home,” I tell him, hoping that he takes a hint and leaves me alone. But instead he follows, picking up food from the shelves.
“Did I say something wrong? I apologize if I did,” he adds, catching up with me.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, let's cut to the chase,” I say, turning to face him. “I know that Oliver sent you to play like you’re interested, but I’ve got to tell you that you're wasting your time. This plan is not going to work.”
He scratches his head, narrowing his green eyes and looking slightly lost. I have to admit, he plays his role well.
“Oliver, the bloke from the team?”
“Yes, Oliver Morgan. Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about.”
“To be honest with you, I don't. I just moved to Braxton, so I don't really know anyone here.”
“Nice try, but I don't believe you,” I say and continue shopping.
“Hey, come on, at least give me a chance.”
“Sorry, I’ve got to run,” I say. “I wouldn't make a very good person for a conversation anyway.”
"Suit yourself.”
I'm being paranoid now. What if he was genuinely interested and Oliver had nothing to do with this? This is not high school and I shouldn't have been so hard on him. I decide I'll talk to him next time and will be a bit nicer. I’ve changed, so I have to act like it.
Then a memory flashes through my mind unexpectedly. Oliver had a hard life and I was the only one who saw what it was like for him.
Chapter eleven
Forgiveness?
Past
Christian, Oliver and I were on our way back from the cinema. As usual I was texting Dora to see what she was up to and Christian was cracking some stupid joke about football while he was driving. Christian had just turned eighteen and his father bought him a brand new Audi before he went to South America for business.
Oliver's birthday was coming up in a few months, but as he told
me, he wasn't expecting much. He didn't think that his parents would even remember. I had noticed a few times that no one really cared about what he was doing and how he was behaving, because everyone was always focused on Christian. His coach had foreseen a huge career for him. Oliver was just the other brother.
Minutes later, Christian pulled up in front of his house.
“You know that you have to drop me home in an hour. My mum knows what time the film ends,” I said as I jumped out of the car.
“Chill, Indi, we’ve got plenty of time,” he muttered.
Oliver went in first, but I saw him stop abruptly in the hallway.
“What is going on, bro?” Christian asked, passing by him. Then all of us heard the glass being smashed.
As we walked into the Morgans’ spacious kitchen, we all saw Mrs. Morgan on the floor. She was crying, holding a glass, and there was blood everywhere. A ripple of anxiety rushed through me as I stood there, not sure how to react.
“Mum, what the hell are you doing?” Christian shouted, going pale within seconds. His blue eyes darted as he paced around his mother. I knew that Mrs. Morgan had problems, but this was the first time that I saw her in that kind of state.
“I…. am …sorry.”
Oliver ran to the bathroom and came back with some tissues. I took out my phone and looked at Christian. “Should we call an ambulance?”
“Fuck, I don't know and I don't care. Bro, you can take care of her. I'm getting the hell out of this mad house!” Christian yelled, as his mother tried calling for him to help her. Oliver's blue eyes shot him a desperate look, but I knew Christian; he was petrified. He cursed under his breath and smashed the bottle of whisky that was on the table, before he hurried outside. I was still standing there, my heart beating fast.
“No, I want Christian,” Mrs. Morgan cried while her other son tried to stop her bleeding wounds. I helped him to get her off the floor. She stank of whiskey. She was completely hammered.
“Mum, calm down. You're going to be all right,” Oliver kept saying, but she was moaning and trying to push me and him off. Her eyes were blackened with smudges of mascara.
“You're horrible and I hate you.” She slurred out her words. “I should have had an abortion. I should have listened to your father!”
My heart broke, and I looked at Oliver, who seemed completely paralysed by her words, while holding her still. A shadow of anger and despair passed through his face.
“Don't listen to her. She’s drunk,” I whispered when Mrs. Morgan closed her eyes for a second. He didn't respond. He was breathing hard like he was trying to calm down. Then Mrs. Morgan moved and started vomiting on the floor. Oliver grabbed her hair and I rushed to the kitchen.
It took us a while to clean her up and get her to bed. She kept throwing insults at Oliver and he was taking all this like he didn't care. I didn't know what to do, how to react. I couldn't comprehend what he had to go through, seeing his mother in this state. Christian left. He was a coward. He couldn't deal with what was going on. I knew that his father kept travelling because he didn't want to deal with Mrs. Morgan. He couldn't face what was happening to her. She needed help, but no one was willing to do anything. Oliver told me that he tried to talk to Christian and his father, but they called him weak. They told him that his mother only drank too much. Only later the doctors diagnosed her as bi-polar.
Finally around ten o’clock Mrs. Morgan fell asleep. I patched her wounds and helped Oliver clean the mess in the living room.
We were working in silence and I was fighting back my tears. As we finished, I threw myself into his arms and hugged him, trying to comfort him in any way. Oliver never showed any emotions, he’d hidden them well like he was an assassin.
That night he wrapped himself in my body and breathed in.
“I'm sorry that you had to see this,” he whispered. I pulled back and grabbed his hand.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Oliver. Your mother needs help, and Christian shouldn't bail on you like that.”
He looked away and exhaled. “I know that she does, but for now, I just have to deal with it.”
“She didn't mean any of those things, Oliver. She was drunk. I know that she loves you,” I added.
He started laughing and brushed the hair away from my face. “They both think that I shouldn't have been born, so spare me the pity, India. You know yourself that Christian is the golden boy. I'm just the trash.”
“You're not the trash, Oliver. I'll talk to my mum, she must—”
“India, stop. This isn't going to work. I just have to deal with this. Let me take you home. You’ve done enough.”
We didn't talk while we waited for my taxi. I never knew anyone who could be so strong and stoic about how much his family hated him. I felt how difficult his life was then and I regretted that I had chosen Christian. I was such a fool not seeing that Oliver was the better person, and the man that was so much better for me.
Present
“Someone punched him. That’s why he’s been ignoring me,” Dora states when I walk through the door a few weeks later. I had a stressful day, trying to hand in all my assignments before the deadline and avoiding that new guy Russell who’s been a nuisance ever since we’d been introduced. He keeps showing up in the library, outside my classes, pretending it's just a coincidence. I keep watching Oliver, hoping to figure out his next move, but he doesn't even look at me anymore. I haven't got time to play this game. The term is going to end faster than I anticipated.
It's Friday night and Dora is already drinking her first glass of wine, so I know that trouble is coming. She is a lightweight just like me.
“Who punched him?” I ask.
“That’s the thing. I have no idea. He doesn't even want to talk about it,” she complains, switching the channels on the TV.
“He doesn't want to tell you?”
“No. I tried everything, but he keeps saying to leave him alone. He won't even let me take care of him.”
We spend the rest of the evening discussing Jacob and his black eye while eating junk food. Dora gets drunk, and in any other circumstance she would probably call him up, arguing until he tells her what she wants to know. Then we would go out and she would start flirting with a first guy that she meets. But Dora is in a serious relationship this time, and she won't go back to her old habits. It looks like she might be in love with Jacob.
Around midnight, I help her to get to bed and clean the apartment. Dora will be fine. She is much stronger than she looks.
Next day I wake up early, make some coffee, and head to the Sports Hall for rowing training. I'm the first in the changing room. In a couple of weeks I will be back in Gargle, but today I'm planning to have a good session and beat my personal best. Two years ago I would have been afraid to leave the house, knowing that Oliver is plotting another way to make me miserable, but now I'm stronger and training is part of my routine.
I get to the changing room and get to the bathroom first. I hear the door, so it looks like I'm not the first in today.
“I hope the coach keeps it short today. I'm not in the mood for training,” whines the first voice. I recognise Mackenzie. I rinse my face and quickly begin to put my clothes back. My aim is to get out of the changing room as soon as I can. The last thing I want is to listen to her whining.
“Have you got any plans with your hot boyfriend?” another girl asks. It's probably Joanna.
“Maybe. You never know. He isn't my boyfriend yet, but I'm working on it.”
I hate when she talks about Oliver like he is a commodity that people fight over. That unexpected feeling of jealousy fills me. I put the rest of my clothes back and touch the door handle, when I hear Joanna’s next question.
“Girls were talking about Jacob yesterday. Apparently someone punched him, but no one knows who?”
“Oliver hit him. I heard them the other day when they were arguing.”
The muscles in my stomach clench and I don't dare to move, wondering if
I heard Mackenzie correctly.
“You're joking, right? I mean, why would Oliver hit Jacob? They are best mates.” Joanna says.
“I know, right? It's odd because they never argue.”
It's not long before a few other girls come in and soon the changing room is full. The conversation between Mackenzie and Joanna is over, and I'm glad to be out of there. Mackenzie wouldn't make up stories about Oliver. She is into to him and she wants to have him.
The training goes well, but I keep wondering why Oliver hit Jacob. Distracting myself from useless thoughts, I do a few miles. I push myself more than usual today, hoping to win the competition in December. After an hour and a half, the gym seems deserted. All the girls are gone and I stay to stretch a bit more. The conversation between Mackenzie and Joanna still bothers me. No wonder Jacob didn't want to say anything to Dora.
The gym is empty when I leave. I feel great after the torturous exercise, although I know that I won't be able to move tomorrow. I strip off in the changing room, knowing that there is no one around and take long blissful shower. Dora wants me to run a film marathon today. She wants to have a quiet and peaceful weekend for a change.
When I get back to my locker, I see that all my clothes are gone. The blood drains from my face and I begin to wonder if maybe this is just a dream and I haven't woken up yet. The water drips on the floor and I stare at my empty bag. It's obvious that I’m the victim of another prank and it's clear that Oliver is behind this. I run to the door and discover that they are locked. I punch the door a few times, calling for help.
“We thought that we’d have some fun today, so you can stay here until Monday. Have a good weekend.” It's Mackenzie. She laughs, walking away.
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