Offside (26 page)

Sheriff Skye put his hand over his mouth to stifle himself and ended up just spitting through his fingers.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe the two of you!” Nicole yelled. She looked at each of us in turn with her hands on her hips and a pretty evil-looking glare in her eyes.

We kept laughing.

“You know,” Nicole said, looking back to her father, “I came back, figuring I would make dinner for you, but you know what? You can just forget it now! Order a damn pizza or something!”

Nicole stomped up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door, leaving us staring at the stairs, our mouths open in awe.

“You gonna tell her we already ordered one?” I asked.

“Oh,
hell
no,” he replied. “I might cry when I eat it, just to make a point.”

“What point?” I asked.

“Not really sure,” he replied, “but it will probably make her feel vindicated.”

Shakespeare probably would have mentioned at this point that “the commons here in Kent are up in arms.” Somehow, I thought Sheriff Skye would have preferred a horde of angry villagers to the wrath of his daughter.

Now, would she also notice how quickly the pizza got delivered?

CHAPTER 14

OWN GOAL

“So then she comes out of the kitchen,” Sheriff Skye was saying through his chuckles, “and she has the gigantic hunk of Swiss cheese in her hands. I mean, it’s about as big as her head—and there are these little teeth marks all over it and a trail of cheese bits all over the floor…”

I laughed again, trying to keep from choking on my last bite of pizza. I took a big swig of Coke to wash it down and ended up with bubbles in my nose. The sheriff thought that was particularly funny, and we both started laughing hard again.

Nicole walked in the kitchen and glared at both of us, then glared at the almost empty box of pizza, and followed up with a good nasty look at the empty beer and Coke cans, stacked in an elaborate pyramid on the kitchen table. Without a word, she walked over to the refrigerator and started pulling things out. There was a green lumpy-looking thing and a yellowish-orange thing that might have been a fruit of some kind. She got busy chopping things up on a cutting board and basically ignoring the two of us.

“Hey, Rumple,” I said softly, hoping maybe a little Malone charm just might do the trick. I was rewarded with the daggers of hell out of her eyes instead. I tried smiling, but she wasn’t buying it. She slammed her hand down on the counter instead.

“Don’t call me that!”

“What are you so mad about?”

“What, the sneaking out for cigarettes and lying for each other isn’t good enough?”

“Well…it could be worse,” I offered.

“You better shut your mouth, son,” Sheriff Skye said under his breath, “or she’s going to remove something important to you.”

“You’re right,” Nicole said softly as she nodded to me. She smiled sweetly, and I glanced at the sheriff and gave him a little wink. It didn’t make me feel too secure, though, when he shook his head slowly and planted his face in the palm of his hand.

“Well, considering the budding ‘bromance’ you two seem to have going on,” Nicole sneered, “I guess I’m lucky I didn’t walk in on anything else!”

Sheriff Skye spit beer onto the pizza box, grabbed for it, and knocked the entire can pyramid onto the floor. Nicole turned on her heel and started gathering up whatever the hell she was making. Sheriff Skye looked at me and raised his eyebrows before nonchalantly taking another bite of pizza and another swig of beer. I had to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing again. I glanced over at my Rumple-kitten, but she obviously wasn’t going to look at us. I went back to my pizza, but things were pretty quiet except for the noise from a couple of cans that were still rolling around. Nicole finished making herself some elaborate salad or salsa or something like that, warmed up what looked to be fresh bread, put it all on a plate, and huffed at us on the way out of the kitchen.

We busted out laughing as soon as she was out of earshot.

“I have never heard that word before,” Sheriff Skye said, “but I don’t think I approve.”

I snickered.

“I should probably go talk to her or something, shouldn’t I?”

“At your own risk,” he replied. “Though I think it’s really me she’s pissed at.”

I took a deep breath to prepare myself, got up from the table, and made my way upstairs. Her door was closed, so I did a little more deep breathing preparation before I knocked.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on, Rumple,” I said. She didn’t respond, so I started knocking again. She ignored me, so I started knocking to a beat, playing a little hip-hop rhythm on her bedroom door until she finally flung it open and glared at me again.

“You are so annoying,” she stated, but she left the door open as she went back inside and sat down at her computer desk.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Emailing my mom.”

“Oh.” I didn’t really have much else to add, so I fidgeted until she finished typing, sighed, and looked back at me. I tried to give her the most sincerely apologetic look I could conjure up. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”

Nicole’s eyes dropped down to her plate, and she pushed some of the fruity-looking bits around for a minute.

“I’m not mad at you,” she finally said.

“You aren’t?”

“Not really,” she said. She poked around at some of the green morsels on her plate. “It’s just been a rough day.”

“So why did you have to leave before practice was over?”

“I really don’t want to talk about that.”

“Oh.” I scratched at the back of my head. “Um…well, who are Ron and Timmy?”

“Really, Thomas,” she said as she looked back to me, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied though I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t okay at all. If anything, I wanted to know even more now. I guessed I would have to do my own digging. I continued to scratch my head a bit more and then looked back to see her wiping her cheek. “Hey…”

She shook her head and waved at me dismissively as I took a step toward her.

“Really, Nicole…I’m sorry…” I didn’t know what else to say. I hadn’t meant to piss her off or make her sad. What had I done? What was I supposed to do now? “I feel like I just tipped the ball into my own net. What did I do?”

“It’s not you,” she said as she wiped away more tears. She stood up and seemed to be getting ready to clear her tray away when she suddenly turned to me, wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and started crying.

I had no fucking idea what the game plan was. Was I supposed to make a move here, comfort her, like she had me? I didn’t even know what the hell was wrong.

My mind replayed everything that had happened since she got home—the smoking, the goofing off, the pizza—everything. I couldn’t come up with a particular thing that would actually make her cry. I thought back to school—she had been pissed that I had kind of arranged lunch, and given what Sheriff Skye had said, I guessed it made sense—she just wanted to make her own decisions. I was okay with that.

Would that make her cry?

I didn’t think so, but I really didn’t know.

After scouring my brain for any little tidbit to clue me in, I gave up and just put my arms around her. Her face was buried in my chest, and I just held her while she cried, wondering what the fuck I did. After a few minutes, she wiped her face with the back of her hand and seemed to quiet down. I didn’t know what else to do, and she didn’t seem to be moving away, so I just kept my arms around her and waited. Eventually, she spoke again.

“Sometimes it just all gets to me, you know?” she said.

I had no idea what she meant, but I nodded anyway.

“I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” I replied.

“It’s not,” she disagreed. “I shouldn’t do that to you. I am still pissed at Dad, but you were just covering for him. I have no idea why you were, but—”

“I wasn’t, really,” I admitted. “I did smoke one, too.”

Upon hearing that, she took a step back from me and looked up into my eyes.

“You were smoking?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Thomas, you’re an athlete…”

“Yeah, I know,” I said with a shrug. “I really don’t do it very much. I mean, almost never.”

The look in her eyes was…confusing…and heartbreaking. She looked like she was about to start crying again. There had to be more to this.

“Nicole, why does that piss you off so bad?”

She dropped her forehead against my chest again before she answered.

“The guy I dated in Minnesota smoked,” she said quietly. “It just…makes me think of him.”

Shit.

That was, in fact, about the last fucking thing in the world I wanted her to be thinking about. Ever. I definitely didn’t want her thinking about him when it came to me.

“Nicole?”

She sniffled again and didn’t look back at me. I took a step closer to her and wrapped one arm around her waist, bringing her close to me.

“Rumple?”

She finally looked up, and there was fire in her eyes again, but only for a second.

“I won’t do it anymore,” I told her. “Really, I never did it very much anyway. If it reminds you of…of
him
, then I won’t do it anymore. I swear.”

“You won’t?”

“Not a single one. There are a few in my soccer bag. You can throw them out yourself if you want.”

She continued to stare up into my eyes, but I wasn’t sure exactly what it was she was seeking. I just looked back at her because her eyes were just really, really pretty and I found it hard to look away from them.

“Would you really do that?” she asked. “No more?”

“No more.”

“For…for me?”

“In a heartbeat,” I replied.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter to
you
?” she asked. She seemed somewhat irritated…or maybe just confused.

“That’s a very good question,” I replied. I gave her a half smile. “I guess it just does.”

“You hardly know me,” she informed me, refusing to just let it go. “Why would you agree to do something like that for me? It doesn’t make any sense.”

As I thought about my response, I reached up and laid my hand on her cheek. I leaned forward and looked deeper into her eyes.

“I do desire we may be better strangers,” I whispered to her. Her eyes widened a bit.

“More Shakespeare?” she said in a breathless whisper.

“
As You Like It
,” I replied, “Act three.”

Nicole’s lips pushed together as the corners turned up.

“I guess we’ll just have to work on that,” she replied.

“I guess we will.”

She looked at me again for along moment then took a deep breath and sighed.

“Sorry I was such a bitch,” she said sheepishly. “It really didn’t have anything to do with either of you, just my foul mood. Maybe I can make you both dinner this weekend. Kind of…make up for it?”

“Well, I don’t know about the sheriff,” I said, “but that would definitely work for me.”

Nicole smiled brightly up at me, and my heart began to beat faster. Unfortunately, it was getting a little late, so after Nicole made nice with her dad and said goodbye to me, I headed home.

Sheriff Skye shook my hand as I left.

“Thanks for the entertainment,” he said with a goofy smile, which was made even goofier by the way his moustache jumped around.

“Thanks for the pizza, Sheriff Skye,” I replied as I headed off the porch and toward my car.

“Hey, Thomas!” he called after me.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Greg.”

I think I was smiling all the way home.

Dad’s car was there when I pulled in the driveway, but when I got inside, he was in the living room and on the phone. His eyes met mine for a moment, and I gave him a slight wave. He just looked back to some notepad he had on his lap and kept talking.

I went up to my room, closed the door, and locked it. I looked around quickly, but everything was in place, so I could breathe again. I pulled my T-shirt up over my head, dropped my jeans to the floor, and pulled a pair of soft flannel pants out of the drawer. I picked up the dirty clothes, folded them, and placed them inside the hamper. It was getting full; I needed to do some laundry.

“Thomas!”

“Yeah, Dad?” I opened up my door and peered down the stairs.

“Where’s the garment bag and the bigger suitcase?”

“Down in the basement,” I said. “Do you want me to find them?”

“Yeah.”

I went all the way down and poked around the closets in the lower level until I came up with the two pieces of luggage he wanted. I hauled them back up the stairs and into his room. He was pulling clothes out of drawers and laying them out on top of his bedspread.