Page 81 of Overtime
“She’s right Joss. Even if it’s just a concussion they’ll do due diligence to make sure until they’ve checked him out. He might be fine, but they just want to be cautious.” Harper puts her hand on my shoulder, trying to reassure me.
Time stretches on, and I shift on my feet, wishing I could just be down on the field talking to him. See him. Hold his hand. This is torture, standing up here, hopelessly watching and knowing I can’t get close to him. The crowd is restless now. Chanting his name out in intervals between hushed discussions. I’m sure they’re all wondering the same things I am.
The staff start to move then, and I can see glimpses of them getting him on the board. They’re working to strap him down and get him up on a medical gurney they’ve wheeled out, and I hold my breath as I see glimpses of him again. Whispers break out around the room, and it makes the uneasiness slide over my skin again. I feel hot and cold at the same time, my hands are clammy as I grip Violet, and we lean our heads together.
A second later and they start to wheel him across the field. It’s impossible from this distance to even see if he’s conscious or not. But then he does a thing I could kiss him for, he holds up one hand and gives a thumbs-up sign. The whole crowd erupts. Standing on their feet and clapping. Cheering so loud that the stadium practically shakes with it.
I take a deep breath and the tears come a little harder, happy tears now because at least I know he’s conscious and able to move.
“Oh thank fucking god,” Violet whispers as she tightens her hug around me.
“Holy fuck…” I curse, squeezing her back. “Okay. At least it’s not the worst. But what do we think it could be?”
“I don’t know. Concussion maybe? We’ll have to wait to find out.”
“Can we go see him?”
“No. They won’t let us back there. They usually won’t even let family back at first. Until he’s assessed.”
My heart thuds hard against my chest, dropping to my stomach. Because as much as I feel like I’m Colt’s family—that Ben and Violet are his family—I’m reminded in moments like this, that we’re not.
* * *
“We should goto the hospital. I feel useless just waiting around here,” I say as I pace around the box for the hundredth time in the last hour. I’m ready to leave the game and rush over, but the women in the box, the experienced veterans of this sort of thing, explain that there’s no use. That he’ll be evaluated for a concussion and a battery of other tests. That they won’t let me see him. That I’ll be waiting just like any other stranger for news, and I’m better off being here. Because here we might actually get an update from the staff or one of the coaches.
Harper gives me another hug, trying in vain to comfort me to the best of her ability.
“I know you want to go to the hospital, but they won’t let us see him. We’re not family.” Violet reminds me of why I need to pull it together, but even though I know all the logical reasons, I can’t make myself believe them. I’m also incredibly tired of being told I’m not family when Violet, Ben, and I are as much his family as anyone who’s blood.
“Which is stupid because he has no family here. Wearehis family,” I argue the point with Violet, uselessly.
“Yes, but they don’t care about that.”
“Are they going to let Ben in?” I look up at her as the thought hits me we might eventually get an inside source.
“I don’t know. He’s going to go with one of the coaches. Either the head coach or the offensive coach when the game is over. He said at half time.”
“Well, I hope they at least let him back. Insane that he’s in the hospital, and they won’t let anyone who cares about him in.” I pace the floor back and forth.
“Everything I’ve heard is that he’s fine, and it was just a mild concussion at most.”
“Mild concussion my ass. Did you see the way he fell?”
“Ben will keep us posted with any information he gets. You know he will.”
She’s right. He will. But right now I can’t help the sick feeling in my stomach that I can’t go and check on him myself. That I can’t talk to him and find out how he’s doing. I’ve already sent him a dozen text messages, but I have no idea if he has his phone or when he’ll see them. I just want him to know I’m here for him if he needs me, and I can’t even do that much.
FORTY-FOUR
Colt
That nightas I get home, I’m exhausted. It’s late, and it’s been a long day. It had been one test after another while they poked, prodded, evaluated, and re-evaluated every single thing they could think of and eventually decided I had a mild concussion. They’d finally let me go home, and my quarterback coach had insisted on driving me back himself. Ben followed in his car, after spending most of the afternoon and night with me in the hospital when I told them that he’s my emergency contact. I’d barely been able to talk to Joss since my phone was at the stadium until Ben brought it when he came over, and even then with all the tests they’d been running, I’d only been able to send a quick “I’m okay” text.
Violet and Joss are waiting in the house when I get there, both of them hurrying over to hug me as soon as I shrug out of my coat and shoes.
“I was so fucking worried about you,” Joss hugs me tighter as Violet steps away, and I wrap my arms around her.
“I’m okay. Just a little bump on the head.”
