Ruin(52)

I took another few sips of water and closed my eyes, hoping the rest would make it better.
Another few minutes went by and Coach came up beside me and slapped me on the shoulder. “You want to do one last play?”
I knew what he was asking.
One last play before my bleak future went black. His guess was as good as mine as to if I’d live to see a football again. Black spots or no black spots, I needed to do this.
I stood on shaky legs and made my way out onto the field amidst the screams from the fans. Damn, I’d miss it. I’d miss the feel of running out onto the field, the buzz of excitement.
With a sigh I turned and saw Kiersten on her feet yelling. I blinked, my vision returned just enough for me to see her waving frantically. Her shirt had a heart on it. Hell, she had no idea the encouragement that gave me, but Gabe did. I blew her a kiss then nodded my head to him.
I could have sworn he yelled, ”Give ’em hell!”
Laughing, I shakily made my way to the huddle. We’d already won, so now it was time to show off. I called a fake play in order to get the other team offsides and decided to do the exact same trick play Boise State had done in the Fiesta bowl a few years back.
As I suspected, the team fell for it, gaining us five yards. My heart thundered in my chest. Everything felt heavy, as if someone had put a piano on top of me. I took a few deep breaths and called the play.
“Baby blue, baby blue, BSU, hut!” When I fell back, I stumbled, tripped or something. I wasn’t really sure, but that pause was enough for me to see a lineman heading straight for me. I was too late. My vision blurred then went completely black as I felt myself falling backward against the ground.
The last thing I remembered was thinking I never told her I loved her, and that sucked, because she needed to know — I would die, was probably dying, and the last thought in my mind, the last word that blew across my lips was “Kiersten.”



Chapter Forty

Can a person’s heart shatter in their chest? Because I think mine just did…

Kiersten
“Something’s wrong.” Gabe clenched my hand in his and watched as Wes stumbled out onto the field. He ran like he was drunk, maybe he was just trying to show off and be funny.
I shrugged. “He wouldn’t go out there if something was wrong.”
Gabe snorted. “Then you don’t know how guys work.” He waved his hands above his head trying to gain the coach’s attention. “Shit!” He pushed me toward the chairs and jumped onto the field running to the coach. I was still trying to figure out what the hell his problem was when I saw it.
The ball fell from Wes’s hands. He wavered on his feet and collapsed onto the field.
I could have sworn the entire stadium fell into silence as I screamed. Lisa held me in her arms while frantically looking at Gabe who was cussing out the coach.
The coach ran toward the field, players looked at each other in confusion. And I knew in that moment that Wes had lied.
It wasn’t diabetes.
It couldn’t be.
Something was wrong and he hadn’t told me. Nobody just passed out on the field like that. He was strong, wasn’t he? He was healthy, right?
I held my breath as doctors rushed onto the field. I prayed. I prayed hard that Wes would move, that I would see his fingers drum onto the grass or that he would jump into the air and start laughing like it was some giant joke. I didn’t realize I was crying until Lisa handed me a tissue from her purse.
“He’s okay, right?” I asked in a hoarse voice. “Right? He’s just tired? Or dehydrated?”
“Sure.” Lisa gripped my hand in hers.
The sound of an ambulance almost killed me.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t just stand there and wait. I ran. I ran as fast as I could and jumped over the barrier so I was on the field with Gabe. He intercepted me in his arms as I ran for Wes. And then another set of arms braced me.
I turned and cried.
I cried into Randy Michels’s chest like he was my dad, like he was my lifeline. I clung onto him with everything I had. The funny part? He held me right back as if I was his lifeline too.
“He’ll be okay,” Randy whispered. “He’s a fighter, okay? He’s a fighter, don’t you forget it!” He nodded as his Adam’s apple bobbed against my face. “He’s not like his brother, God rest his soul. Wes is strong. He’s like his mom.” Randy sighed. “Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
I gripped Randy’s hand on one side of me and Gabe’s on the other as cameras went off.
Wanting to yell, I kept my head down as we made our way off the field, amidst the flashes of cameras and yelling from the fans. They wanted to know what was wrong. They wanted to know all the things I wanted to know. I just didn’t have the answers.
My body went into a state of shock on the way to the hospital I couldn’t stop shaking. I was pissed that it seemed that Gabe knew what was going on but I didn’t. Even Randy seemed like he had expected Wes to pass out. What kind of father expects his son to pass out on the field?
“Come on.” Gabe tucked me under his arm, and we made our way to the private wing of the University Hospital.
“Is he stable?” Randy asked once we reached the room the nurse had directed us toward. The nurse paused and lowered her clipboard.
Her eyes flickered to mine before returning to Randy’s.
“Family,” he said. “They’re family.”
“Right.” Her eyes flickered between us before she answered. “He’s stable but had a very dangerous reaction with his last group of medications. As you know they’re trial basis only, there was no way for us to know he would have that type of reaction. Luckily, he was in a public place, so the minute he blacked out he was able to get help. Had he been in his room or even—”