Scars

Back to the Voicemail

"Just listen to it." Kristie said as we walked across the side of football field, unsure of what to do with our Monday afternoons.

"Isn't that against the rules or something? Plus, I don't want to listen to his petty excuses." We were now climbing up the stairs to the cold bleachers. The frigid September breeze blew my hair into my face and almost blew Kristie's beanie off her head. "I know exactly what he's going to say. He's going to say he's sorry and that he didn't mean it and he'll skip straight to the part about asking to bring Ren back over so he can continue to pretend to be sorry." We sat down on the freezing bench at the very top.

The football team came out then, a group of muscular jocks who thought they were cooler than they actually were. They paid no attention to Kristie and I as we sat and watched them. They scampered across the field like fearful rats in football helmets and excessive "groin padding."

We watched as another came from behind the stands, nearly tripping over his gear. He was skinnier than the others and he looked as if he had barely made it on the team at all. He messed up the others and made a complete fool of himself, causing an eruption of laughter from Kristie and I.

"This is sad. I'm ready to ditch this, what about you?" Kristie said standing up, about to freeze to death. I nodded and followed her back down the bleachers and up the side of the field.

I continued to think about the voicemail. So what if you already know what he's going to say. Listen to it and use his words against him in the future or something. I mean—

My thoughts were quickly cut off as I saw something fly in front of me.

The football hit the gate beside us with a loud thud sound, making me nearly jump out of my skin. The boys on the field were frozen with either fear or surprise. I couldn't tell.

I easily got over my shock and retrieved the ball which was only a few yards from where I stood and Kristie stood completely frozen. As I reached down for the ball I heard a voice from the field say, "Next time watch out. You could have hurt the baby." A couple of them laughed like schoolgirls.

I turned with the ball in my hands, unaffected by the comment, and the laughter ceased. I couldn't clearly make out the faces behind the helmets, but it was fairly easy to pick out scrawny boy stepping towards me to take the ball back. It was obvious that he had thrown the ball, whether it was on purpose or completely because he had no actual skill.

I remembered what my father had taught me and I gripped the ball tightly in my hand. I nailed it as hard as I could towards scrawny boy's chest. He caught it to my surprise, but the blow made him stumble and drop the ball. He scrambled after it as it rolled in confusing directions before coming to a stop.

I waited no longer to stay and watch this idiot fumble around the field, and I grabbed Kristie by the hand and pulled her along with me quickly towards the nearly empty parking lot.

***

Ren was asleep...finally. I walked out of our room and down the steps to kitchen. I grabbed a drink from the fridge and scrolled through my phone.

My finger froze when it came to Nick's unread voicemail. I couldn't hurt to just listen. Quickly clicked the button and put the phone to my ear.

There was a sigh at first, probably because I wasn't answering his call. "Brin, hey. Uh, I just wanted to apologize." Yep. "I didn't mean what I said." Check. "Well, I didn't mean it literally. If this makes any sense at all, I consider the fact that everything bad happens for a perfectly good reason. Maybe it was a good thing, you know, what happened and all." I stopped drinking for a moment, frozen. What? "See, maybe that good thing was Ren." There was a pause. "Just call me when you can. I really need to apologize in person or explain or something. I just need to see you... I mean you girls." Another pause. "Bye." Silence.

I looked at the clock on the microwave.

10:37

Not too late. I can still make it in time.