Page 67 of Free Fall

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Nothing. Fucking nothing! I can think whatever I want in my head, but nothing comes out on the outside. I feel like I’m comforting Jules about her own boyfriend, not dealing with the fact that mine’s been hurt. That my good friend of many, many years is currently inside a room buzzing with doctors. “I have to get in there to see him,” I say.

Jules shakes her head. “We can’t. You heard the lady at the front desk.”

I blink at her. “I don’t really care what the lady at the front desk said.” I swallow. “What if he’s as hurt as Brady was? I can’t just sit out here.”

Jules squeezes my hand, her fingernails biting into me. “Briar, they’re probably working on him. They’re doing what they need to do, so you can’t just go in there.” She looks me up and down. I think it’s then that she notices I’m not crying. I think she notices that my cheeks aren’t red and puffy and that I’m somewhat lucid.

She gives me the strangest look that makes me feel even worse than what I feel for Reid being in a hospital bed right now. I’ve let her down.

I think I’m letting myself down too.

“You just stay with me,” she says, patting my hand. She looks around the room, paying attention to the people walking around in scrubs. “You want something to eat?”

I shake my head. I feel okay. “I’m good,” I tell her, and there’s nothing inside me that says any different other than the fact that I just want to see Reid, make sure he’s still breathing. I mean, he needs to still be breathing. What are the fucking odds that two guys from the Spring Hill High team would die within a year of one another?

I go to get up, but Jules pulls me back down. I stare back at her. “I need to see him.”

She smiles at me, her lips quivering a little. “I know, Briar.” Her face is tight when she looks away. She squeezes my hand again. “Maybe I can go see if they’ll let us back. Okay?” Her voice has changed. It’s comforting and condescending at the same time. Almost like I’m a child that has to be dealt with. “Will you be okay? I’m just going to go to the window for a second.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” I tell her, an edge coming out in my voice.

She ignores the hardness wrapped up in my curt words and looks me over from head to toe. Whatever she sees, she must decide it’s okay to get up and go to the window because she does so. When she gets there, she looks back at me and then leans in toward the lady on the other side, speaking softly.

My whole body buzzes. I watch the Emergency Room doors like a hawk. Somewhere back there, Reid is in a bed. I wonder what’s happening. Is he thinking about me? Is he thinking about the hit?

I run my hands through my hair. A nurse comes into view with pale yellow scrubs on. She hits the swinging doors with her backside and then walks in, not bothering to look behind her. I move without thinking. I slip just inside the doors before they swing in and out again.

Miraculously, there’s no one in the hallway in the Emergency section of the hospital. I tiptoe down it, stealthily but also with an air like I’m supposed to be walking here. I peer into the open doorways. Ahead of me, the Emergency Room doors burst open and a stretcher gets reeled in. I press myself against the side of the hallway while a scream rips through the air. The hospital staff run the stretcher right past me. Bloody bandages are strewn all over it and the minute it wheels past me, nurses and doctors follow. Shouts rise up. Orders are given.

As soon as the guy in the stretcher is in a room, I walk down the hallway a little more slowly. Literally everyone is with that other patient right now, leaving me free to do what I came here to do. There were times I wished I was there when Brady got hurt. I wanted to be able to see him. Instead, by the time I was told, he was already gone. I didn’t get to say goodbye. Everyone assured me I wouldn’t have been able to anyway. As soon as he got knocked out, he was never cognizant again. It was like he just fell asleep. And then from being asleep, he was dead. Not even the other players got to talk to him. They all just thought he had a concussion, but no, it was much, much worse than that.

I grit my teeth and walk a little further in, still peeking in doors with my mind in the past. I peer inside one and almost move past it, but it’s the dirty cleats sticking out of the bright white bedding that draws my attention. It’s him. Brady.

I shake my head. Reid. I mean Reid.

Brady’s gone. There’s no way he’s in a hospital bed because we buried him months and months ago even though sometimes it still feels like it could’ve been yesterday.

I look around, making sure there’s no one in the room with him. When I find it empty, I step inside. There’s a beeping going on in the corner. He’s already hooked up to some machine. The only grateful thing I feel about that is the fact that the beeping means he’s still breathing. I mean, people don’t die from tackles, right? That would stand to reason. Maybe he has a broken bone or two. But that’s probably exactly what they thought about Brady and look what happened.

It’s like I’m watching a movie in front of me. They have his pads and jersey off. The sheets come up to hide his chest, his hands on either side of him. Reid doesn’t sleep like that. He sleeps all haphazard like, as if he’s struggled to get into a comfortable position all night and the one he ended up in just happened to be whatever position he was in when he couldn’t ward off sleep any longer. Sometimes he’s on his stomach with one hand up by the pillow, the other stretched out over the bed. Sometimes he’s on his side with his legs spread wide. Sometimes on his back, one knee out with both his hands under his pillow. Never have I ever seen him laying like a mummy in bed, all straight lines. No, he was posed like this.

I sneak in a little further. Now, I can see his chest rise, another piece of physical evidence that he’s okay. He’s still breathing at least. I wonder how long it took Brady to stop breathing… I don’t think I was ever told.

I hear voices outside in the hall, so I traverse the last few steps to Reid’s bedside in one giant step. I don’t want to get kicked out now, not before I’ve touched him. Not before I’ve seen him with my very eyes. I grab his hand in both of mine, squeezing it. He’s still warm. Still oh so warm, which makes my heart melt a little. For now, he’s okay at least. I pick his hand up and kiss the back of it. “Reid, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

His lips part slightly. His eyes are still closed, but his lips move like he’s trying to say something even though a sound never comes out.

There are more voices down the hall. The screaming from the other guy has ceased, so I know I don’t have a lot of time now. I’m sure Jules has also turned around and realized I’m no longer there.

I kiss the back of his hand again and again. “You’re okay.” I bite my lip. There are so many things popping up in my head, but only one actually seems all that important. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you this yet, so in case I won’t— In case I can’t,” I say. “I love you, Reid Parker. Part of me probably always has been in love with you because I slipped into it so easily. So fucking easily.”

I kiss his hand again, knowing I’m on borrowed time. Someone’s going to come in here any second now and I’m going to get into trouble.

Footsteps start for the room. They echo around the otherwise quiet hallway. It seems like the screaming guy put a hush on everything else, so other sounds echo loudly. “What happened?” someone asks.

Another softer, feminine voice says, “Don’t know. Hurt on the football field, but the EMT’s who brought him in said he kept saying someone meant to do it.”