I finally find Nate sitting in a busy waiting room, scrolling through his phone.
“Where is he?”
“Dude, relax.”
“Don’t ‘dude’ me. Why did you let him get hurt? Why were you distracting him while he was driving? Do you know how dangerous that is?”
He’s looking at me like I’m a crazy person.
“Hey, he’s okay. He’s through there, go see for yourself if you like.”
I rush through the corridor like a madman until I see a half open curtain with Ben’s tennis shoes touching the floor. I drag the curtain back, chest heaving, heartbeat drumming in my ears.
He looks up at me and smiles. All that tension, the fear I realize only now was feral in its intensity, falls away.
“Ben,Gott sei Dank.”
I rush around the bed and put my arms around him. He stays still at first, obviously surprised. Then he laughs, his breath tickling the side of my neck.
Now I know he’s okay, a little of the anger creeps back in. I hold him by the shoulders at arm’s length and frown.
“What were you doing? Why were you distracted? Were you looking at your phone?”
He chews his lip. “No, the guy in front just slammed on the brakes. Maybe I was a little distracted, but?—”
“Nate,” I growl, mumbling threats under my breath.
“Elias.” Ben touches my face and guides it until I’m looking at him. “It wasn’t Nate’s fault.”
His smile drops, pity creeps into his features.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
I shake my head and he drops his hand from my face. “It’s not your fault. You’re fine, that’s the main thing.”
I check him over. I can’t see any injuries. “You don’t have whiplash?”
“I don’t think so. I’m going to be fine for Indian Wells, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.”Wasn’t I? I should have been.Ben is my doubles partner. I can’t learn that kind of non-verbal communication with anyone else this close to an important tournament.But I’m surprised to find that my main concern was Ben. His welfare. His safety.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Someone clears their throat and we turn to find a doctor standing there with a clipboard.
“All the scans came back negative, Mr. Harris. If you’re feeling okay, you’re free to go.”
Nate’s still waiting outside, watching us with this weird smile as we walk out.
“Elias, why don’t you come back to the house with us?” Nate says. “The guys are all waiting to make sure Ben’s okay.”
Ben groans. “I don’t want them to make a big thing out of it.”
“Your brothers care about you, Ben. Deal with it,” Nate says with a grin.
I like that he has people looking out for him. He deserves that.
I feel sick when we get outside and I see the state of Ben’s car. The bumper is bashed in. It’s drivable, but it looks a mess. All that crushed metal and flaking paint sends shivers down my spine. I feel something tugging on my wrist and look down to find Ben’s fingers wrapped around it.
