Goosebumps rose up on my arms. “Didwhoget us?”
Graham’s face flushed, and his eyes got red. But he didn’t say a word.
And now my own throat was tightening up, because I thought I understood. “G,” I whispered. “Do you think that somebody got beat up? Like in the alley?”
His voice was scratchy, and his eyes were enormous. “Why are we at a hospital? Tell me the truth.”
“Whoa,” I said, putting a hand on the side of his face, my thumb brushing his top lip. “No, man. It’s not like that. We’re here because of ahockeyinjury. Just a hockey game.”
Those cool blue eyes measured me. I could see him trying to decide whether or not it was safe to relax.
There was a sound in the hallway then, and I yanked my hand back just in time.
Coach stuck his head in. “Rikker, Bella, let’s strategize.” He beckoned to us and then disappeared. I’d forgotten that Bella was even in the room with us. She stood there, frozen, staring at us.
I looked down at Graham. “Listen. We’re at the hospital because of a hit you took in the hockey game.”
Slowly, Graham nodded.
“Repeat it,” I demanded. “Why are we here?”
“The hockey game,” he said.
“That’s right. And everyone else is fine, okay? I’m going to talk to Coach for a second. Don’t yell for me, okay? Because the whole team can hear you. And I’m right outside.”
Grabbing a speechless Bella by the elbow, I pulled her into the waiting area.
The doctor was giving instructions to Coach. “Two weeks at the bare minimum. But he’ll need to be evaluated then. Don’t rush it. You do not want a second concussion. The second time takes twice as long to recover.”
Coach winced. “Okay. We’ll be conservative.”
I was practically hopping from foot to foot, wondering how long Graham would remember what I’d just told him. But the doctor wasn’t finished with Coach.
“Please do,” the doctor continued. “I’ve seen far too many repeat concussions in this E.R., always because a big game was coming up, and the athlete insisted he was fine. I’m going to send him home with a lot of care information. But he’ll need help making decisions. I know he’s an adult, but his parents should be involved.”
“They will be. Thank you.” Coach turned to the whole crew. “Okay, guys. Last call for the men’s, or the soda machine. We’re going to hit the road.” Then he put a hand on Bella’s shoulder and began talking about a rental car and a hotel room.
“Rikker!” Graham barked from the other room.
Aw Christ. There was so much fear in his voice it was practically ripping me in two.
Bella and Coach looked up from their conversation. Coach frowned. “Damn. I wish he was doing better already. I’ll go tell him goodbye.” He walked to the back, with Bella on his heels.
Hartley waved me over. “You’re coming on the bus, right?”
My mouth went dry, wondering what would happen after I left. Was Graham going to yell my name all night? And all because he thought some thugs beat me up in an alley. But if I stayed here, everyone might wonder why. Or would they? I felt utterly paranoid. I felt like Graham. “Uh, yeah,” I said to Hartley. “Unless you think Bella could use my help. She might like that. I mean… whatever makes sense, man.” I tried to sound casual, but my voice was shaking.
Hartley just looked at me right then. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Hartley looked rightthroughme. I could actually see the understanding blossom in his brown eyes. What followed was the most awkward silence of my life. Just a vacuum in space between my captain and I, with the guffaws of the French freshman and Big-D as background noise.
Finally, Hartley cleared his throat. “Would he, uh, want you stay here?”
I looked down at the linoleum floor tiles. “I don’t fucking know. He’s not making any sense.”
And then Big-D was standing there too, chewing peanut M&Ms and asking Hartley when they were leaving.
“Whenever Coach says,” Hartley snapped.
From the back, Graham yelled for me again. And Big-D’s eyes lifted toward the corridor, and I felt my whole body go tense.Please just go out to the fucking bus, asshole. Instead, he popped another candy in his mouth and locked eyes with me. “If I’m ever hit on the head hard enough to yell for the team homo, one of you will just shoot me, right? Put me out of my misery.”
