UNEDITED
23.
“Hello?” I yelled into the phone.
It was six thirty, a half-hour after our landslide victory in the sectionals game, one that ended in an abundance of cheering and victory hugs.
If we were bad on the bus after our win in the last game of the season, we were twenty times worse this bus ride. Screaming, cheering, and overall happiness was all that could be heard on the bus.
I heard mumbling on the other line but I couldn’t make out what the person was saying. Walking to the back, I tried telling whoever it was that. Why didn’t I check the caller ID? You’re such an idiot.
“Ms. Smith?” I froze at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, it’s icy tone sending child up my spine.
“This is she.” I said, trying to be polite.
“I’m Edison, Sean’s father.” His voice was curt and business-like and I quickly felt a cold sweat forming on my forehead.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hi. I’m calling to ask if you would be able to meet, say, later tonight? For dinner?”
“May I ask what for?”
I did not want to go. I heard from the chief of police and my mother that Sean’s parents were sending him to school in some boarding place upstate, and I’d rather not be at his going away party for three.
“An apology. Would seven o’clock be adequate?”
Somehow, through all the nervous butterflies in my stomach at the pure thought of meeting him, I found myself saying, “Yes.”
A tap on the shoulder made me jump and spin around guiltily. “Are you okay?” Jacque asked, and I realized that the music had cut off and we were the center of attention.
“Yeah, of course.” I told her, brushing it off so she didn’t ask questions. Only the ice hockey team and Lauren knew about Sean, and whomever else they told. I wasn’t going to be the one to spread it.
She gave me a skeptical looked but didn’t ask questions as she motioned to the bus driver to turn the music back on. Miley Cyrus soon filled the awkward air.
***
Smoothing out the simple floral dress I rang the doorbell to the address texted to me an hour before.
The wooden door creaked open and a middle-aged man with graying hair opened the door. He was tall, much taller than I imagined, with balding gray hair and a skinny frame clad in an expensive suit. Good thing I dressed up. “You must be Orion Smith.” I nodded meekly as he pushed open the door wider so I could step inside. “Thank you for joining us this evening. The food shall be prepared shortly, please accompany me into the living room.”
Nodding again, I followed behind him, not bothering to look around the house, the nerves eating me alive.
Entering the room, which was much friendlier than the rest of the house, with a fireplace in the center and light brown leather couches framing the glass coffee table in the center. Large windows lined the walls, and dark maroon curtains hung on the ends.
Edison gestured for me to sit down, and he began talking, his eyebrows pinched together in a disappointed expression. “I’m terribly sorry for what happened with my son, I only hope you’ll accept his apology. I’ll send for him now.”
I wanted to yell out, do anything but sit there like a helpless little girl. I wanted to scream out not to let him anywhere near me, but I didn’t want to be disrespectful to Edison, who was obviously not in agreement with what his son did to me. Who would be?
“Orion?”
I hadn’t realized I was spacing out until Sean entered the room in place of his father, his familiar red hair shining brightly in the warm glow. I cleared my throat, but didn’t say anything.
“I know an ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to cut it.” He sat down across from me, having enough common sense not to take the empty seat next to mine. “But I figured I owe you the whole story.”
“There’s more to it?” I snapped bitterly.
He rolled his eyes, “Yes, you didn’t think I would do that to you for no reason, I’m not a psychopath.”
I snorted. “Could’ve had me fooled,” I muttered darkly.
“I,” he took a breath and rubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t know how to start this really,” he broke eye contact to look at the flickering fire and I followed his gaze. “A while ago someone approached me, and she happened to be someone I had sex with while dating Lauren. I met her a few weeks ago.” I didn’t say anything. “She said she had it on video and she threatened to tell Lauren if I didn’t do something for her.” I gulped, suddenly not liking where this was going.
“I was in love, you know? I didn’t want Lauren finding out, and I wasn’t planning on telling her, because it was a mistake. God, it was a mistake, and I was drunk- and I believed that she had it on video; she showed me part of it. I didn’t want anything to jeopardize our relationship so she asked me for a favor.”
“What was it?” I wanted to hear him say it, I wanted him to confirm my suspicions and tell me what I’d been dreading to hear.
“She said she knew you through mutual friends, and hell, I don’t even know why she hates you so much, but we were at Jacque’s dinner and she threatened me again saying that it was either you get hurt or Lauren does.”
I bit my lip as his eyes started turning glassy. “I’m so sorry,” he said, a tear straying from his eye. He frantically wiped it away, not looking me in the eye. “I- she wanted me to hurt you so bad, Orion. She wanted me to have sex with you and hit you so Beckett would back off and I didn’t know what to do. It was such a stupid fucking decision, and I’m so goddamn sorry.”
His eyes looked up at mine and I felt my own becoming slightly watery thinking about his betrayal. “That doesn’t even make sense,” I protested. “Why would you go along with that?” How could someone want me hurt so fucking badly that they had to go through my friend? They ruined his life, his hopes of going to college for hockey, and they ruined Lauren. They almost ruined me.
He put his head in his hands briefly, rushing them through his unruly hair. “I-I don’t- I don’t know.”
I stood up abruptly, slowly retreating from him. How could I believe that? Did he think I was stupid? “I need you to tell me something.”
I wasn’t going to bother asking him why she made him do it; I didn’t even know if I could believe what he was saying. I was going to pay the bitch a visit herself to see who was telling the truth.
“Anything,” he breathed, looking much less pale and more relived but also extremely tense.
“Who is she?” I asked him; scared of him saying the one name I was thinking. I had a nasty feeling I somehow wouldn’t be wrong.
“Georgia Garner.”
***
not sure how i feel about this ch, might delete later? (orion to the side>)
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Cheap Shots
Short StoryIn which two stubborn and hot headed teenagers find that their injuries may be the best, worst thing that's ever happened to them - that is, after they get over their long time ice hockey/field hockey rivalry.