They all looked at one another, and I hated what came out of my coach’smouth.
“You can report this as assault, Ryan. He’s an adult and you’re barely anadult.”
“No, we were just messing around. It could be just as much my fault as his,” Ipleaded.
“Ryan, I’m not buyingit.”
I stared at my coach. Was he mad at me? Was I going to lose my scholarship forfighting?
“You know why I don’t buy it?” he askedme.
I shook my head as he got up from his chair and rounded his desk. He took both of my wrists and examined myhands.
“Not a single bruise or scraped skin on your hands.” He gently set my hands down and went back to his desk. “For a young man to sustain the injuries you have from a fist fight, I would expect your hands to look like you had been in a hardfight.”
My heart pounded and my mouth wasdry.
“We have to report every injury sustained by ourathletes—”
“Am I off theteam?”
“No, Ryan. Absolutely not,” my coachpromised.
“Ryan, you can report this and they’ll pick him up,” one of the trainersadded.
Chad could get arrested. As great as that sounded, I couldn’t dothat.
“It’s okay.” I held my side as I coughed. “If he’s arrested, then it hurts my mom. She relies on him to help support the household finances.” I left out the part about how he supplemented the householdincome.
“Ryan, he broke your ribs. Certainly, your mother wouldcare.”
Mothers normally cared about that sort of thing. Just not mine. Everything she screamed through the door at me last night flooded myhead.
“Just a moment,” my coach said as he went to the closed door of the office. “Do you need something, guys?” I turned my head and saw that Skyler and Dave stood a short distance away from the officedoor.
“We’re Ryan’s ride. He’s moving in with us today,” Skyler said with asmile.
I was sure this all looked really bad. I showed up early on game day, and sat in an ice bath. Now they knew I had been in a fight, had busted ribs, and was moving out of myhome.
“Very well. Give us a few minutes,guys.”
The coach shut the door and looked at the teamdoctor.
“How long is he outfor?”
“Probably six weeks for the broken ones to heal. Possibly after four weeks, we can begin lighttraining.”
“Okay, not much we can do about that. We just need to let it heal,” the coach said and sat back down behind his desk. “He’s moving in with Skyler and David, so he won’t have a parent around to look after him. How does he get by? What will helphim?”
“Maybe Skyler and David should be involved with this conversation,” the team doctor suggested. When Skyler and David came into the office, the doctor ran through a bunch of things. “Ibuprofen and ice for pain. Avoid anything strenuous and don’t be afraid to take some deep breaths. I know it will hurt like hell, but you need to do that to keep your lungs clear and free ofpneumonia.”
I nodded and looked at Skyler and David. I hoped they weren’t regretting extending the room to me. Skyler opened the trunk to his car, and I dropped my backpack in it, and then we drove to a pizza place close to thefield.
“So, man,” Skyler started and gestured with an upward nod in my direction. “What happened to you and theribs?”
I couldn’t tell them the truth but could give them the same form of the truth that I gave my coaches and the training staff. I finished scarfing down the slice of pizza and then began retelling them thestory.
“Damn, man,” Skylersaid.
