Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
We both look down at his hands, and the trembling of his fingers makes my stomach drop.
I drop my tool to the ground and wipe my hands on my trousers. “What happened?” Cold dread makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
“His heart stopped, Dalton. He died on the field. They had to revive him.”
“What?”
My dad stares at me, waiting for his words to register, too wrung out by worry to repeat them himself.
“Is he…?” I can’t say the words.
“He’s at the hospital. He’s in intensive care.”
“I don’t understand.” I realize I sound like a fucking idiot. If I was smaller than my dad, he’d probably clip me around the back of the head like he used to when I was a kid, but I’m seven inches taller than him and seventy pounds of muscle heavier.
“His heart stopped, Dalton. Just…drive us to the hospital. We need to get Blake on the way.”
His voice grinds with the same bleak tone he had when Mom was nearing the end of her life, like all his energy and hope are lost.
“Let’s go,” I say.
I drive like I’m trapped in a nightmare, the world around me existing like a model inside a snow globe. When Blake joins us, we barely talk, lost in a world of disbelief, the fragility of life a bitter taste in our mouths. In the thirty minutes it takes us to reach the hospital, Dad receives three phone calls from Coach, updating on slight changes to Kain’s health. “Thank you for being with him,” Dad says on the last call as we pull into the hospital’s vast parking lot.
“His fiancée is with him,” Coach says over the car’s speaker. “She’s the one giving me updates.”
“His fiancée?” Dad twists the phone from his ear to look at it, then presses it back to his ear.
“Yes. Gabriella.”
“Gabriella?”
My grip on the steering wheel tightens so much my knuckles turn the color of bone. Dad’s voice is high and confused and although I’m relieved that Gabriella’s with Kain, the fiancée-confusion isn’t ideal.
“Yes. Gabriella. Long blonde hair. You don’t know his fiancée?”
“Err…of course. Sorry, the line is bad,” Dad says. “We’re pulling into the parking lot. We’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” Coach sounds relieved. Holding the fort for the parents of a seriously ill player must be stressful.
Dad hangs up the phone and turns to me and then to Blake in the back seat. “Why is Gabriella telling people she’s engaged to your brother?”
“To ride with him in the ambulance, probably.” Blake finds it easier to be economical with the truth than I do. It slides from his tongue like syrup and Dad seems to relax instantly, his focus back on the road.
“I didn’t know you and Gabriella were still friends,” he says, his voice rising at the end like a question. “You haven’t hung out in years and Travis isn’t around anymore.”
“We are.” Blake shifts in the back seat and our eyes meet in the rearview mirror.
Friends with benefits.
I wait for my brother to embellish, but he doesn’t. Sensible. Say nothing and the hole won’t be deeply dug if the truth ever does come out.
I find a spot in the parking lot and we pile out of the car, making our way to the hospital entrance.
The clinical smell hits me, cloying and foreign, the reality of why we are here smacking me in the face. “There’s a sign for the ICU”, Blake says, pointing. We follow the directions, finding a huge gathering of football players and cheerleaders waiting outside the entrance, faces grave. Among them, Coach’s gray hair and mustache stand out.
“Mr. Nowak,” he says, stepping forward to greet my dad.
“Any updates since we spoke?” Dad asks quickly, his eyes flicking to the door, impatient but dread-filled.
“Nothing since then,” Coach says. “I’m glad you’re here. Kain needs his family around him.”
“Of course.”
Dad doesn’t waste time with any more pleasantries. He presses the buzzer to the ICU and explains who we’re here for. We’re buzzed in immediately and met by a nurse in a crisp uniform. “Mr. Nowak. Kain is in a stable condition. I’ll get one of the doctors to explain what has happened and the treatment he’s receiving. In the meantime, you can see him but a maximum of two at his bedside.”
“Is Gabriella still with him?” I ask.
The nurse nods. “She won’t let go of his hand. She keeps telling him stories from the past. It’s so sweet that they’ve known each other since they were kids. That’s a real love story,” she says.
Dad clears his throat, but before he can say anything, I interject. “I’ll go in first, Dad. I’ll get Gabriella to come out and then you and Blake can go in.” He looks as though he wants to disagree but is conscious of the nurse standing in front of us.