Page 128 of Colliding with Ten

“Some.”

“Vision?”

“Doubled when I sat up. Blurred for a bit in here. It’s mostly cleared.”

He wrote that down.

“Scale of one to ten, the headache?”

“Five.” It was closer to seven, but I’d been underreporting pain since high school. Old habits.

“Try again.”

“Six.”

He wrote it down and exchanged a look with the team physician.

“We’re going to recommend transport,” the physician said. “With the loss of consciousness, headache, photosensitivity, and nausea, we need imaging and a full workup. It’s precautionary. We’re not going to take chances.”

I usually would’ve resisted, but the ringing in my ears hadn’t stopped. The light still hurt, and when I’d tried to read the trainer’s clipboard a minute ago, the letters swam before settling.

“Okay.”

The physician paused, surprised I hadn’t argued.

“Okay,” he repeated. “We’ll get the ambulance.”

The door opened a few minutes later, and Jace walked in. The pads were gone, but he was still in his compression top. His face was tense. The easy-going, joking Jace was gone. This was the other guy.

He looked me over. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone hit me in the head.”

The side of his mouth lifted, but he didn’t smile. He pulled a chair over and sat down beside me. “They’re sending you to the hospital.”

“I know. I agreed to it.”

His eyebrows went up. “You agreed?”

“Don’t make it a thing.”

“You never agree to be poked and prodded.”

“I’m agreeing now.”

He nodded. “That’s good.”

“What happened after the hit?” I asked. “I heard whistles.”

Jace’s jaw tensed. “Fifty-two lit you up after you were down.”

“I know that part. I mean after.”

Jace made a fist. He looked more frustrated than I’d seen him in a while. “I hit him.”

I wondered if there was more to this. I looked at him, surprised.

“I got there before anyone else.”