Truth be Told ✔️

Chapter 4

I arrived back at the house after my run to see Seth's car in the driveway. Even though I was confused about where exactly he said he would be, I thought he would at least be there. But maybe now I can get some answers out of him before the game and clear up whatever the hell I had just heard in the bathroom from a girl I thought just had blonde hair to her name.

I opened the side door. No music. Good. At least that meant that he was alone at the house for once.

I peeled off my jacket and tossed it into a laundry basket in the laundry room before heading upstairs. I stopped in my room to slip on a tank top and then continued on my way to Seth's room. The door was closed.

I knocked. "Seth, it's me. Open up."

I heard a rustle from inside. But still no answer came. Annoyed, I rapped on the door harder. "I know your in there. Open the door, or I'm just going to come in."

Nothing.

Frustrated, I jiggled the door knob in the way I had perfected over the years to knock a gear in the lock loose. The door sprang free and I barged in with full intent on giving him a peace of my mind.

Seth was in the room, alright. He was alone. But he was also unconscious on his bed.

I rushed over to the bed and frantically looked him over. The anger I once held had drained out instantly and sinking protectiveness took over. His left eye was swollen and tinted a light shade of blue. There was a cut under his chin. And his knuckles were bruised pretty bad.

I shook him and shook him. "Seth. What the hell? Wake up!" I stammered and continued to shake him vigorously. What was wrong with him that he would be out this cold? Surely nothing to do with Byron. But maybe everything to do with what Taylor said Seth was really up to.

When I was at my wit's end and was about to pick up the phone and dial for an ambulance, I heard him stir in the form a painful groan. I turned around to see his eyes were opening and closing as he tried to adjust to the light of the room.

"Seth?" I asked. I set down the phone and walked back over to the bed. I looked at him. "Seth are you good?"

"Obviously not," he slurred. He pointed to the ground. I grabbed the pillow he wanted from the carpet and tried to prop him up as best I could manage. He was heavy.

"What happened?" I demanded when he was in a better position to talk.

"Something went wrong," he mumbled. He groaned once more as he saw the damage done to his knuckles. Anyone older than 4 would know that he had been in a fight. "Something went so wrong."

"No shit," I growled. "Tell me."

"No," he whined. "You'll get mad."

"I'm already mad," I snarled. "Now tell me what's wrong or I will hide the ibuprofen. Then I'll call Byron over here and blackmail him to tell me what really happened."

"Byron doesn't know anything," Seth shook his head.

"Well you do so spill."

"Can I have ibuprofen afterwards?"

"You have to be at the field for warmups in half an hour," I said curtly, "so you better talk fast if you want them in your system and working before you get there."

Seth groaned. "I met with some people. We meet before all the games."

"And what do you do at these meet ups?" He grumbled something gibberishly. I held my hand up to my ear. "I can't hear you, Seth. All I hear is me dumping the painkillers down the toilet."