Page 98 of Falling into Place
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Coach grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye, his own eyes red-rimmed. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now. But you can do this. You will.”
It sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
It had taken him a while to get ahold of himself, and eventually the cop had come over to remove the handcuffs and let Coach drive Brooks home. They hadn’t gone to his house right away, though. They drove around for a while and talked. Coach had given him his signature tough love and told him he had to change the path he was on. That the next time Brooks made a mistake like that, he wouldn’t be there to bail him out.
Brooks hadn’t known it at the time, but when he woke up safe in his bed the following morning and thought about what happened the night before, it had been the start of a new life for him.
A life where he would focus on being good again.
One where he would make something of himself and make his mom, and Coach, proud.
And one where he’d never let his emotions take over his life like that ever again.
“Dr. Martin.”
Sarah’s face came slowly into focus.
“It’s been thirty-seven minutes,” she said gently.
Brooks surveyed the scene around him. One of the respiratory therapists had taken over compressions. The nurse keeping record was watching and timing, ready to let him know when they could give another dose. But after this long with wide-open fluids, four doses of epinephrine, and persistent asystole, he knew it was futile.
Coach was gone.
“Stop.”
All eyes were on him. As the senior physician in the room, it was his responsibility to make the call.
He listlessly looked at his watch. “Time of death: three forty-one,” he said, and walked out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Carly
Which careers have the best job security?
—Carly Porter’s Google search history, senior year
Carly shot up in bed, unsure what had woken her.
A knock sounded at her door.
She glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning, which was way too early for anyone to be at her door. Just as she’d decided to ignore whoever it was and crawl back under the covers, she happened to glance at her phone screen.
Three texts and a missed call from Brooks.
The knock came again and she swung her legs out of bed and rushed to the door.
He stood on the other side with slumped shoulders and his shirt all wrinkled. She was still processing his unkempt appearance when he swayed to the side as if he might fall over.
She reached out to grab his arm. “Brooks?”
His gaze collided with hers and she gasped. His usually bright hazel eyes were dull and haunted.
She tugged lightly and he followed her inside. “What’s wrong?”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Coach died.”
