[Complete] Ariel and the Bandits

21 - The Nightmare

Ariel jolts awake-- coughing and gasping for air. Her hands cover her chest and throat. I sit up and rush to switch on the lamplight. I place my hand on her shoulder. She wraps her hand around my wrist and breaks into a sob.

"Baby, what happened?" I place my hand on the back of her neck and bring her against my chest.

"I saw him. I saw Toby. He's choking me and saying 'It's all your fault.' And you were there. You were there and just watching. And then he says it's my fault that this happened." She buries her face into my shoulder. "And he's right."

"Right about what?"

"That it's my fault. My fault. It's my fault things are the way they are."

"Well, first and foremost, I would beat the life out of that man if he were to try and hurt you. Like, the likelihood of me going to jail is very high if that were to happen. You'd have to promise you'd come to visit me, and we could do those dramatic phone calls with the glass wall between us. Do the little hand thing."

I grab her hand and line it up with mine. This breaks a couple of laughs between Ariel's sobs.

"Secondly, none of this is your fault. You tried to have a good relationship, and it didn't work out. Toby cheated, and he had the audacity to be angry about it and get physical with you. None of that is your fault. Everything that happened after isn't your fault either. He ripped something away from you. A sense of safety, trust, your power-- the only person who knows what he took is you. But what you chose to do after, that was entirely up to you. And whatever strength you had in you, you did what you had to-- to keep going."

Ariel wipes whatever tears managed to escape. "I did what I had to for us to keep going."

Us? I instinctively furrow my eyebrows. Although, the reaction doesn't last longer than a second. I rest my head against the headboard and talk to Ariel about the most absurd topics. Starting with: "Do you think mermaids lay eggs or give birth?"

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Tonight we are at an official game out in California playing against the North-Cal Miners.

Men, women, and children filled the stands, waving their hands and holding up team banners and homemade signs. Occasionally on the jumbotron, I see fans wave and cheer harder. The enthusiastic shirtless men with one letter on each torso spell out BANDITS.

I turn to Liam and point at the jumbotron. "Is it me, or do men take their tops more for us than women do?"

Liam laughs. "When a girl lets you see her topless, it's a divine privilege. That--" he points at the screen of the topless screaming men-- "I can live without. Or maybe not."

I laugh and nod.

In the fourth quarter we're down but not by many points. Not anything a touchdown and a two-point conversion wouldn't get us ahead. With five minutes and forty-seven seconds left, I strap on my helmet and head towards the field to take my position. Before we start, I call the others over for some inspiration.

But before we can all gather, Coach Beau calls Bowers off the field and sends Herrera in. He rushes over to the huddle with his head down low. Everyone is turning heads, smiling, and patting Herrera on the back, finally glad that Coach put him on the field.

"Hey, right here," I shout. The offensive line huddles around me. "This group here--" I gesture at all of us-- "is gonna be why we win today's game. You've put in the work. Let's get paid."

I lean forward and leave my hands out, ready to get a hold of the ball. "White 80," I shout, "White 80 set. Hut!" The ball snaps back to me, and I grab it. I spot Herrera and throw it.