“They seem to be playing okay. A little off, though.” Erin paused, glancing at me. “Or do you want the update on one player in particular?”
“Has he been…okay?” I asked, softly.
“He’s okay,” Erin said slowly. “Just…not playing like he usually does.”
She was trying to downplay it, but her words still hit me right in the chest. Even my own dad hinted at Mateo not being himself this last week.
With a tight chest, I turned back to the TV as the Titans’ offense came onto the field. Instantly, my eyes found number eleven. The camera followed him as he jogged onto the field, helmet dangling from his fingers.
The sight of him made me suck in a breath. It had only been seven days since I saw him, but it felt like ages. The camera panned to his face for just a second before he slipped his helmet on. It was enough for me to catch the bags under his eyes and the scruffy beard on his face.
I stuffed my hands under my knees, nails digging into the fabric of the couch. I leaned forward as Mateo got in position, squatting with his hands extended.
Anxiety coiled in my stomach.Please, let him play well. Let them win.
The commenters were saying something about Mateo and the team, but it all blurred as I stared at the screen.
“Come on,” I whispered.
I held my breath as Mateo lifted his foot and slammed it to the ground, the ball shot straight into his waiting hands. I waited for him to move, to cock his arm back and throw theball to Jake running down the field…but he didn’t. He just stood there as if in a daze.
“Run.” I sat up straighter. “Mateo, run.”
He moved a few steps to the side, but it wasn’t enough. A big body came barreling toward him, no defense near to protect him.
One second, Mateo was standing, the next, he was slammed into the ground.
I swore I heard the thud of his body through the screen.
The clock stopped, players moving on the field…except for one—Mateo.
I didn’t so much as breathe as I stared at his body lying there. It took a moment for them to notice he wasn’t getting up. Perry ran up and dropped to his knees beside him as the on-field medics ran out.
“That was a brutal hit.”
“Boone is still on the ground as the medics check to see what’s wrong.”
“I hope he can get up from that.”
The commenters voices were like a stab to my gut.
“Get up.” But he wasn’t. I could only make out his feet and legs moving, barely.
When I saw my dad making his way onto the field, I knew it was serious.
I shot to my feet, only one thought in my head. I needed to get to him.
Before Erin could say a word, I ran for the door, grabbed my keys, and left.
36
MATEO
The locker room was filled with noise, but I heard none of it. On either side of me, Jake and Perry talked away, but it went in one ear and out the other. I stared down at my phone in my hand. It buzzed with incoming messages from my family wishing me luck. But the one message I truly wanted never came.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard inside of my text thread with Emmie. Over the last seven days, I typed and deleted countless messages, unable to bring myself to send any of them.
That day in Emmie’s apartment still played on repeat in my head. After watching her skate and seeing how off she was, my only thought was to see her. To make sure she was okay. To be there for whatever she needed.
