“Dad!”
I dart across the court, shoving players out of my way.
“He just collapsed! I called 911,” someone screams.
I fall to the ground and take his hand in mine.
His fingers are limp.
“Dad!”
“Coach?”
“Give him space. Let him breathe!”
In a nightmarish blur of noise, I stare at my dad lying on the floor. His face is gray and motionless. He looks unconscious. The Cardinals’ medic lunges at him and starts feeling his way across my dad’s body, barking orders to his colleague. They start chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth. I watch, frozen.
What happens next is a blur. Before I know it, I’m in an ambulance, clutching my dad’s hand all the way to the hospital, where he’s whisked away on a stretcher, leaving me alone in the cold, white corridor.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe. I crumple to my knees, gasping for air as the panic rolls over me in waves, my mind spiraling out of control.
I stagger to my feet and make a beeline for the door. I need to see him. Dad isn’t just my dad, he’s a part of me, and I need to be with him right now.
“Sir?” There’s a nurse blocking my way. “You can’t go in there, sir.”
“Please…”
“He’s in good hands.” Her voice softens. “Take a seat and wait for the doctor. As soon as we know more, you’ll be the first to hear. I know it’s hard, but right now, you just need to be patient and let us do our job.”
She shoots me a warm smile before she goes.
I pace in circles, my mind racing, until Lewis’s voice slices through the panic.
“Don!”
He’s standing by the entrance, flanked by Adam and Lane.
“What’s going on?” Lane asks, grabbing my shoulders. “What did they tell you?”
“His heart. It…” I can’t even find the words. “I…”
“Come sit,” Adam says, leading me over to a plastic bench. “Let me grab you a coffee.”
I let them sit me down—what else can I do? The second my ass hits the seat, I collapse. I’m crying like a kid. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.
“We’ve got you, man,” Lewis murmurs, rubbing my back.
Thank fuck they’re here.Having the guys around makes me feel like maybe I’m not drowning. Times like these, our friendship shifts into something bigger—something that feels unbreakable. Sure, we’re the Campus Drivers. And yeah, we’re friends. But seeing my fear mirrored in their faces? We’re brothers.
“Coach is a beast,” Lewis starts, more confident now. “He’s the strongest guy I know. He’s gonna bounce back—I’m sure of it.”
I know how much he looks up to my dad, and somehow, that gives me hope.
A couple hundred coffees later, and the doors swing open again. Stupid me is half expecting to see Dad wander over, asking whether we won. But instead, it’s some gray-haired dude making his way over to us.
I’m on my feet before the doctor even opens his mouth.
“Who’s Mr. Wolinski’s son?”
