Falling Offside.

Chapter 2 GHOST IN THE MESSAGES.

I couldn't sleep all night. I kept tossing and turning and thinking about the message.

Welcome back Isla, You still blame the wrong person. I saw what happened that night, ask Mason.

The last message bothered me more, not because it was mysterious but because it made me angry. I didn’t need to ask Mason s**t. I knew all that happened, and I spent the last two years bearing the consequences of that night.

"What could Mason possibly tell me that'd change all that had happened?"

Seven thirty a.m, I stood in front of the mirror, ready for a day I wished had never come. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and wondered what version of me Ashbourne Academy would get to meet. The old giggling, happy, and optimistic Isla was gone, for two years now. She disappeared in between surgeries, physical therapies and long nights wondering who she was without skating. And the girl who stared back at her looked older– not in age but life experiences. I put on a black sweater and pale blue baggy pants and tied my hair into a ponytail. I grabbed my backpack, looking into the mirror satisfied. That was exactly how I wanted to look –simple, unnoticeable, and easy to forget. A knock sounded, and my bedroom door opened before I could even respond.

“Ready for your first day?” Mom said in smiles. She was also dressed in grey pants and a black jacket, holding a coffee cup.

I scoffed “first day?”

“Not technically, but at least it counts”. She leaned forward to smooth down a strand of hair that had escaped my ponytail. A habit she'd had since I was a little girl.

“You're going to be okay”, her eyes peering at my worried soul.

I looked down,“I hope so”.

—–

The drive to Ashford Academy took less than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of pretending not to be nervous and Mom pretending to believe me. The closer we got, the more my heart hammered against my ribs. Groups of students clamouring the parking lot, friends laughters shrieked through the crowd, and a student on skateboard who almost knocked down a teacher carrying a stack of files. Everything looked normal. Like the type where everything moves on whether you're ready or not.

Mom parked near the front entrance and turned off the engine, and neither of us spoke nor moved for a second. Then, she reached out for my hand and squeezed it.

“You can do this”.

I stared at the school building. Large brick walls, tall windows, and banners hanging from the lamp posts meant to guide newbies around. I turned to mom and laughed nervously.

“that's what people say when something terrible happens”.

Mom laughed “text me later”

“Ok.” we both knew I was lying.

“Promise”

“Probably.”

“Isla…”

“Fine… I promise”. I said with a smirk and kissed her on her cheeks. She froze, it was unexpected, even from me.

“I love you”, she said, looking fulfilled. I smiled and stepped out of the car.

Outside,the cold air brushed my face. That seemed to be the normal greeting around here. I exhaled hard and made for the entrance. A few students glanced at my direction. Some recognised me, others didn't. I briskly walked and each step I took further intensified the stares and whispers. All I wanted to do was disappear and reappear in my classroom, on my desk. If only I could. One, two… and on my fifteenth step.

“Isla.”

I stopped abruptly before I could think about it.Though years had passed, I still recognised the voice. I clenched my fist and turned my back and he was there.

Mason Ryder

For a moment, I simply stared. He looked different and somehow the same at once. His shoulder had broadened, his voice deepened. His dark hair was longer and slightly falling over his forehead. I glanced at the hockey bag that hung loosely over his shoulder, making it impossible to mistake him for someone else. My stomach twisted immediately. Not because he looked good–Annoyingly he did. But because seeing him felt like violently ripping apart an open wound I'd spent the last two years convincing myself I healed from.

His eyes shifted the moment our eyes met and different emotions followed. Surprise-Relief-Guilt. The guilt lingered and none of us spoke. Around us, lockers hammered, students moved and conversations continued but within us, everything paused like the world was holding out its breath for us.

“You came back,” he finally said.

I folded my arms. “No, this is a highly convincing hallucination”.

A smirk escaped his face, “still sarcastic, I see”

“Still stating the obvious”

For a second, something that seemed like amusement or close to it crossed his face and was quickly gone but I caught it before guilt replaced it immediately. I hated that look, that face. Because that look gave a thousand “I'm sorry” without needing to say it and I needed to stay angry at him,to hate him. His eyes fell on my leg briefly and I noticed. The air around us even became heavier.

“How have you been?” he asked quietly.

I almost laughed. How have I been? Well, I lost the only future I planned for, my parents were divorced and I spent the last two years living a life that wasn’t mine. Fantastic, really fantastic.

“Living the dream”. That was what could come out of my mouth. I watched his jaw drop and the face he made as I replied him.

“I deserve that”.

That reply caught me off guard. I expected defensiveness. I expected excuses. I expected anything but that–Acceptance and for one ridiculous second, I wanted to feel bad for him but common sense returned immediately. I wasn't supposed to feel bad for the boy responsible, the boy I spent two years hating, the boy who changed the entire trajectory of my life… and future. Mason looked away before his gaze returned to me.

“Isla, I–”

Whatever he meant to say never came out because immediately, some hockey boys approached us, chatting loudly.

“Ryder, coach moved practice to four pm”. One of the boys loudly said while tapping his shoulders violently then he noticed me. “Oh”. Immediate recognition flashed through his face. He looked at me, then at Mason and between us and the tension became more visible. I was exhausted. Completely. I was just barely back and everything just moved quickly. I finally adjusted my backpack.

“Well…”, he looked up sharply “if you excuse me, I have a first day to survive”.

Something moved across his face. Disappointment maybe but I didn’t stay long enough to find out. I quickly walked away, as fast as I could before he would try explaining or apologising or looking at me with those guilty eyes. Because none of it could cut it, because guilty eyes wouldn't change anything or give me my future and definitely wouldn't make me forget the last two years. Behind me, I heard his teammate lower his voice.

“Was that really her?”

No one replied and I didn't look back but I knew Mason was behind me, watching me leave while I just disappeared into the crowd.

––––

By lunchtime, half the school was already aware I was back. I was totally convinced when some group of students stopped talking immediately I walked past them in the cafeteria with my food tray.

“So much for remaining unnoticeable”, I muttered under my breath as I located a spot to eat. It was quiet and peaceful and away from the watchful and peering eyes, a spot always occupied by the nerdy students. I picked my sandwich and was slowly munching when my phone buzzed.I looked at the screen and immediately, my heart missed a beat. I already knew who it was.

“He's not the villain, Ask him where he was five minutes before the accident”, the message stared me in the face. Anonymous sender again.

My breath suddenly became uneven. Five minutes before. Not during or after. Before! I sighed deeply and looked up. Everyone became suspiciously suspicious and I kept wondering; why? Why wait two years to tell me this if at all it was true. And if it was then who? Who do I then blame? Who then was responsible? For a split second, my eyes met with his and we turned away immediately and he continued laughing and arguing loudly as if nothing had just happened. Like someone didn't just send me a message that contradicted everything I'd spent the last two years believing.