Something is wrong.
I’m moving before Nolan even reaches Coach Danley, ignoring Roquel’s call after me. My eyes are locked on Nolan as he removes his helmet and mouth guard. Lex and Gio must have the same sense that I do because they turn and head towards him without prompting, taking off their helmets as they go.
I hit the bottom of the bleacher aisle with Roquel not far behind me and take off running towards the gate on the long side. Just as I reach the opening that game attendees aren’t normally allowed to enter, I watch the color drain from Nolan’s face and his helmet slip from his hands.
Oh, God.
“Juliet!” Roquel nearly slams into my back, her breaths panting out in sharp bursts of white clouds.
“I gotta go,” I tell her. “I’m sorry—I can’t—I’m sorry Roquel, I’ll call you later.”
Roquel tries to say something more, but I’m already on the move again, leaping over the gate and dodging a few teachers in ref wear as they try to stop me.
“Nolan!” I scream his name, holding a hand over my head. Lex is the one that hears me first, though. He whips his head in my direction and points back the way I came. He mouths one word and I halt so abruptly that one of the teachers chasing me plows into my backside, nearly sending both of us to the ground.
“Miss Donovan!” the man huffs in irritation. “You can’t be?—”
Before he can finish, Lex is there, grabbing my arm and waving him off. “We gotta go,” he says.
“What is it?” I ask, trying to look back, but Nolan is already gone, and so is Gio. Neither of them is visible on the field. Where did they go?
“We’re meeting Nolan and Gio at the car,” Lex tells me.
“What happened?” It’s bad, I know it is. If it weren’t bad then Nolan’s face wouldn’t have looked like that.
Lex’s expression pinches and his fingers constrict on my biceps as he helps me through the gate and follows after me. “Nolan’s mom was in an accident,” he says. “We’re heading to the hospital.”
Oh. Shit.
30
NOLAN
That antiseptic smell that seems to linger in all hospitals burns in my nostrils as I storm through the automatic doors. The guys and Juliet are hot on my heels as I slam into the front desk, hands slapping against the countertop and startling the nurse there.
“My mom,” I snap at the woman manning the desk. “Eliza Pierce. Where is she?”
Mrs. Neely, an older woman with her fuzzy gray hair pulled back into a bun, softens as she looks at me. “Oh, Nolan, dear, she’s fine, don’t worry.” Her hand comes up and cups over where mine rests. “She just had a little scare. A few scrapes and bruises. She’ll be?—”
“Where is she?” I cut Mrs. Neely off as I glance down the side hallway that leads to a pair of closed brown double doors.
“She’s with the doctor right now, dear, but truly. It was a small accident. Nothing to be in such a tizzy about.”
I hear what she’s saying and, logically, I know I can trust this woman. Mrs. Neely has been working with my mom since I was born. She knows what’s serious and what’s not. It’s not my mind that can’t understand her, it’s my goddamn heart.
It pounds against my chest as adrenaline races through my system. Sweat coats the back of my neck and I turn away from the nurses’ station to face Lex, Gio, and Juliet. All of whom are standing, wide-eyed and waiting. Words evaporate. What am I supposed to say?
I’m usually the one with the plan, with the answer. But this isn’t a body I can fight. This is my fucking mom. As if she realizes how close to the edge I am, Juliet steps forward, pushing through Lex and Gio to come to me.
Her arms encircle my waist and my hands fall automatically against her back. “It’s going to be okay, Nolan,” she says. “You heard what the nurse said. Your mom is fine. She’s fine.”
Oxygen rakes across the inside of my throat, no longer clouded like the gas that it is, but deadly and sharp. I shudder as I squeeze the girl in my arms tighter.
She’s fine. My mom is fine. She’s alive. She’s not hurt.
Juliet’s feminine scent drifts through my nostrils, calming the sharp pain of breathing as panic still drives me. I suck in lungfuls of the smell and lower my head, burying my face against her hair. She strokes my back up and down in soothing motions.
“It’s okay,” she promises. “She’s okay. You’re okay.”
