Cross watched the hospital ceiling go by overhead as his gurney was pushed along. He blinked drowsily.White speckles with round lights. Gray speckles with long lights. White. Gray. His legs hurt, but distantly, the pain mostly drowned under a cotton wool blanket of the good drugs. He’d been trying to tough it out on less, but halfway through being positioned for the MRI he’d started sweating like a pig and almost passed out, and they loaded him up good.
I am really fucked up.Not just on the meds, but with the injuries he was trying not to think about. When he’d caught sight of his right foot and ankle, they’d looked swollen like a balloon, purple and red, and not lying quite right. His left shin throbbed a familiarI-think-I-broke-itache, but the right was worse, whatever he’d done to his ankle. Or what two big guys landing hockey-stick-down had done to it.
Whatever it is will heal, right?
He still had his feet, both sets of toes moved, even if the effort had made him want to puke right there in the ambulance. No concussion, although they’d done the protocol with him three times. No broken ribs so he was breathing fine.Been there, done that, got the spirometer.Broken ribs totally sucked.
The world swung dizzily as the folks pushing him pivoted his bed through a doorway. He closed his eyes against a surge of nausea. Then the motion stopped. Clicks and beeps, touches to his chest and hands, signaled wheel brakes being engaged, monitors being connected. Rustles and movement meantmultiple people around him. Cross took a breath and opened his eyes.
Marie stared down at him. “Hey, little brother. What the hell did you do?”
“Wasn’t me.” He licked his dry lips. “Kenny fucked up. Or Vicki?” He couldn’t remember, just two bodies, one in blue and white, the other in red, toppling toward him. Landing… He didn’t like being fuzzy around Marie. “Hey, tilt the bed up some, would you?”
After an initial swoop of dizziness, sitting up made him feel better, more in control. The room was entirely too crowded, though. He spotted Dr. Ouellette and Wendy Unger and Coach Quinn. All those folks standing around didn’t make him feel optimistic, but he pulled together his composure. “You may be asking why I gathered you here today.”
At least Unger chuckled. “I’m glad to see you feeling better.”
Except my foot is fucked.“Thanks. Are you putting out a statement?” He fought the drug haze to pay attention.
“Lower body injury. LTIR. The usual.” Unger stepped closer. “We’ll put a lot of ‘no details, resting comfortably’ messages up on social media. In fact, I’m about to go do that right now. Take care.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t turn his head to watch her leave. His neck felt stiff, but if there was a real problem there, someone would’ve told him. They’d have MRIed his head and spine.Right?
Coach Quinn came over. “Hey, Cross, good to see you looking better.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“The whole team’s been pestering me for updates.”
“Tell them I’ll be back before they have time to miss me,” Cross lied.
“I’ll do that.”
“Hey, did we win?” He couldn’t remember who they’d been playing, just a game, a crashing fall, red uniforms…Fargo, right.
“Two-zip. So yours was the game winner.”
He licked his dry lips. “Cool.” Despite his determination, his eyelids drooped. He rubbed his face. “Sorry. Long day.”
“It’s late. I’ll let you get some rest.” Coach hesitated by his bed, then gripped Cross’s shoulder through the flimsy hospital gown. “You take care, heal up. We’ll miss the hell out of you for the playoffs, but the most important thing is to heal up and come on back for next year.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Coach turned to go, Cross felt his eyes closing again. In the darkness behind his lids, he heard Marie telling people her brother was tired and to clear the room, come back later. Movement and voices made a soft background, then Marie said more sharply, “Not you!”
“Not going anywhere,” Cross mumbled. Unfair of her to joke about that.
“Hush, RJ, I didn’t mean you.”
He smelled the light perfume she always wore and forced his eyes open. “Sorry about this mess. Hell of a game to come to, huh?”
She peered down at him, her eyes a bit bleary although her makeup was as perfect as ever. “Not your fault. You need to rest but first, there’s someone who’d like to see you.”
A familiar voice behind her mumbled, “That’s okay. I don’t need to.”
Cross craned his stiff neck. “Rusty?”
“Uh, yeah.” Rusty appeared at Marie’s shoulder. “Hey. So I bet that sucked.”
