All It Took

12.Jeff

Message In a Bottle // The Police

I wake up with a start, sit straight up in my bed and look around. Same familiar bedroom I grew up in. Last night after seeing a movie with Pete, Hannah and Kyra, I hitched a ride home with my sister, making up some story about not wanting to lose my parking spot so I couldn't take my car. I don't bother mentioning my car had been impounded by a dumbass football player and his junkie friend. I haven't told my family anything about any of this. Not even about Alison.

I think I was dreaming about Alison. I rub my head and my eyes from sleep and try to remember what happened in my mind while unconscious. I can't grasp much of it, but I remember fear. I know I saw her, but I couldn't get to her. I think there was danger heading for us.

Yeah, I wish that was just a bad dream. Unfortunately, my reality is almost as bad. Worse because in reality, she hates me.

I can't get the image of her glaring at Coach and I out of my head. My heart was pounding the entire time she ranted at us. And she was right. Every single thing she said was dead on. I'm an asshole for keeping her in the dark, for pushing her away. The guy I never thought I'd be. The one with all the secrets. Fuck.

It's only 6:30 in the morning but there's no way I'm going to sleep after where my mind has taken me. I get out of bed and throw on some shorts before going out to the kitchen to find some food. Of course, I find my mom already up and making breakfast.

"I thought I heard you come in with Kyra last night." She puts her spatula down before stepping closer and kissing my cheek. "How are you doing? You look," she steps back and makes a visual assessment, "tired."

I nod. "It's early." Thank goodness it's a bye week, no game. I'm able to relax a little today until someone takes me back to campus. I feel like a shit having to bum rides, but it is what it is.

"Hmm, it is." Mom doesn't sound convinced. She shouldn't be. I'm lying my ass off to her.

Why did I think it was a good idea to come back home? I can't remember now.

"Look who's here?" My dad enters the kitchen from our side door covered in sweat. He's already gone for a run this morning.

"Hey." I nod, a sick feeling taking over my stomach. They're both here. Kyra's still asleep and if she's on the same weekend schedule that she was last year, she'll be sleeping until noon.

This is my opening. I might be too chicken shit to take it.

"What brings you home other than a weekend off the field?" My dad doesn't give me a hard time about the way I've sucked lately. He would never. My parents have been nothing but encouraging and understanding, never putting too much pressure on me or being overly critical. I'm a lucky guy and I know it.

It's that realization that makes me spill my guts.

"I need to talk to you about something. I've been dealing with it on my own, but I think I might need help." That's putting it lightly.

"Sounds serious," Dad says as he takes a seat at the table, glass of water in hand.

My mom shuts off the oven, already preheated for the cinnamon rolls she's been making, and joins him.

Fuck. Shit just got real. I don't sit down at the table, needing to stand while I tell them.

"I got caught up in something before I realized what was going on, and now I might end up in trouble. Legal trouble."

Dad leans forward. "Tell me, son."

I explain how Reign took an interest in me, wanted me to hang out with him. How I figured it would be good to have an upperclassman as a friend on the team, so I went with it, even though my gut told me differently.