leg,” Mr. Pedersonreplied, craning his neck to get a better view.
And when he did, he sucked in a breath between his teeth.
My anxiety tripled, and my heart squeezed so tightly, I couldn’t breathe. “What?”
“Alexis, don’t,” he warned, but I broke free and found a gap between the players that gave me a clear view of my boyfriend.
Brett lay on his back, his body arched in pain, his right foot twisted in a grotesqueangle. The bits of red and white I glimpsed above it had nothing to do with his uniform, and I swallowed back the vomit that rose into the back of my throat when I realized they were blood and bone.
A black tunnel formed around me, and I backed away in horror. Even though he’d won the game, Brett had shattered his ankle in the process. My knees started to buckle, and I would have slumped to theground if Mr. Pederson hadn’t steadied me.
“It’s okay, Alexis,” he said, even though his voice trembled. “He’ll be okay. Don’t cry.”
I was crying?
I ran my hand along my cheeks, only to feel the hot tears streaming from my eyes. The last time I’d cried in public was the day Summer had humiliated me by reading my diary aloud in the cafeteria. In any other situation, I would’ve freaked out aboutcrying in front of everyone, but right now, I didn’t care about my reputation. I only cared about Brett and the fact he was lying there on the field, bleeding with part of his bone sticking out of his skin.
An ambulance backed onto the field, and a group of EMTs swarmed around Brett, blocking him completely from my view. One of the coaches waved Brett’s dad onto the field, but he wavered untilRichard joined us and offered to stand beside me.
My best friend didn’t need to say anything to me. Instead, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and discreetly offered me a tissue.
I blotted my eyes and forced my tears to dry up, but I couldn’t erase the cold panic that clawed at my insides. What if they had to amputate his foot? His leg? What if he bled to death? Dozens of horrific scenariosplayed through my mind with each desperate beat of my heart. I’d never cared so much about someone outside my immediate family, and the realization nearly shattered what I had left of my defenses. I cared about Brett more than I’d ever dreamed possible. The ache in the center of my chest grew as I peered past the crowd at the group huddled around him.
Finally, the circle of people kneeling aroundBrett stood, and a stretcher emerged from their midst. A towel had been thrown over the injured leg, but Brett was sitting up, awake. A weak smile played upon his pale face, and he gave everyone a half-hearted thumbs-up.
Holy crap. Brett was probably in the worse pain of his life, and he was putting on a brave face for the team.
“See?” Richard said, passing me another tissue from the smallpack in his coat pocket. “Brett’s going to be just fine.”
Would he be fine? Even though he smiled, I noticed his ashen color and the way sweat dripped down the sides of his face. His gaze met mine, and I saw the fear flickering in his eyes. Now I was the one trying to put on the brave face, if only to give him hope.
The stretcher hit a bump, and he grabbed the railing in a white-knuckled grip.Just as he’d claimed he knew when I was hiding something, the same went with me. He was hiding his pain, his panic, and acting like the team leader he’d fashioned himself to be.
The blinding flash of cameras followed him as the EMTs loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, and fire sizzled along my skin. I welcomed the rush of anger over the cold dread I’d felt moments before. Anger, I couldhandle. I knew what to do and how to act with that emotion.
I fixed my mask of disgust in place and let my ire leak into my voice. “Geez, people! He’s hurt, and they’re turning this into some kind of media circus.”
I hurried toward the gate that would let me onto the field. My hands balled into fists, and I envisioned
And when he did, he sucked in a breath between his teeth.
My anxiety tripled, and my heart squeezed so tightly, I couldn’t breathe. “What?”
“Alexis, don’t,” he warned, but I broke free and found a gap between the players that gave me a clear view of my boyfriend.
Brett lay on his back, his body arched in pain, his right foot twisted in a grotesqueangle. The bits of red and white I glimpsed above it had nothing to do with his uniform, and I swallowed back the vomit that rose into the back of my throat when I realized they were blood and bone.
A black tunnel formed around me, and I backed away in horror. Even though he’d won the game, Brett had shattered his ankle in the process. My knees started to buckle, and I would have slumped to theground if Mr. Pederson hadn’t steadied me.
“It’s okay, Alexis,” he said, even though his voice trembled. “He’ll be okay. Don’t cry.”
I was crying?
I ran my hand along my cheeks, only to feel the hot tears streaming from my eyes. The last time I’d cried in public was the day Summer had humiliated me by reading my diary aloud in the cafeteria. In any other situation, I would’ve freaked out aboutcrying in front of everyone, but right now, I didn’t care about my reputation. I only cared about Brett and the fact he was lying there on the field, bleeding with part of his bone sticking out of his skin.
An ambulance backed onto the field, and a group of EMTs swarmed around Brett, blocking him completely from my view. One of the coaches waved Brett’s dad onto the field, but he wavered untilRichard joined us and offered to stand beside me.
My best friend didn’t need to say anything to me. Instead, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and discreetly offered me a tissue.
I blotted my eyes and forced my tears to dry up, but I couldn’t erase the cold panic that clawed at my insides. What if they had to amputate his foot? His leg? What if he bled to death? Dozens of horrific scenariosplayed through my mind with each desperate beat of my heart. I’d never cared so much about someone outside my immediate family, and the realization nearly shattered what I had left of my defenses. I cared about Brett more than I’d ever dreamed possible. The ache in the center of my chest grew as I peered past the crowd at the group huddled around him.
Finally, the circle of people kneeling aroundBrett stood, and a stretcher emerged from their midst. A towel had been thrown over the injured leg, but Brett was sitting up, awake. A weak smile played upon his pale face, and he gave everyone a half-hearted thumbs-up.
Holy crap. Brett was probably in the worse pain of his life, and he was putting on a brave face for the team.
“See?” Richard said, passing me another tissue from the smallpack in his coat pocket. “Brett’s going to be just fine.”
Would he be fine? Even though he smiled, I noticed his ashen color and the way sweat dripped down the sides of his face. His gaze met mine, and I saw the fear flickering in his eyes. Now I was the one trying to put on the brave face, if only to give him hope.
The stretcher hit a bump, and he grabbed the railing in a white-knuckled grip.Just as he’d claimed he knew when I was hiding something, the same went with me. He was hiding his pain, his panic, and acting like the team leader he’d fashioned himself to be.
The blinding flash of cameras followed him as the EMTs loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, and fire sizzled along my skin. I welcomed the rush of anger over the cold dread I’d felt moments before. Anger, I couldhandle. I knew what to do and how to act with that emotion.
I fixed my mask of disgust in place and let my ire leak into my voice. “Geez, people! He’s hurt, and they’re turning this into some kind of media circus.”
I hurried toward the gate that would let me onto the field. My hands balled into fists, and I envisioned
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