Page 12

Chapter 11

SHYLOH

Was I hit by a bus? What the fuck happened?

Opening my eyes was like prying open a rusted-shut door. They hurt.

Once they were finally open, I took in the dimly lit room.

Pale walls.

Big windows.

Machines humming.

Hospital room.

Sitting in the chair beside me was Conrad and on the couch was Lenna. But there was no—

“He’s awake!” Stone shouted.

I groaned slightly at his overwhelming voice. “Shut the fuck up. Your voice still irritates me.”

Stone smiled at me while Lenna jolted, leaving the room to let a nurse know.

“How are you feeling?” he asked me.

I chuckled. “Like a sack of shit.”

His eyes glazed over my arms and legs before returning to my face. His look was all I needed. It was full of concern.

“Well, well, our favorite football star is finally awake,” a doctor said, stepping into the room flanked by two nurses and Lenna.

I give him a forced smile, watching every step he takes closer to me.

“I’m Dr. Ziegler, I’m your orthopedic surgeon.” He looked at the machine next to my bed briefly before returning his attention to me. “Do you remember what happened to you during the game?”

I blinked a few times, recalling the throw, the hit, the pain.

“Yes, I remember being sacked and I remember being loaded into the ambulance.”

He smiled. “Very good. I would like to discuss with you your injuries and what we were able to do for you. Is it okay to have these two in the room while I go over that?”

I nodded.

“Very well.” He sat on the end of my bed with his hands in his lap.

“When you were hit, a certain vertebra in your spine was dislodged. We had to perform an emergency surgery to repair it.” He looked down at my feet covered by the blanket, removing the white linen over them and exposing my toes. “Do me a favor and wiggle your toes,” he asked.

I focused and tried. Everyone looked at my feet, waiting.

I sighed out of frustration because, fuck, I wanted to move them. I wanted to be able to.

Dr. Ziegler looked at me and smiled. “Take a deep breath. Let’s try one more time, shall we?”

I took a deep breath, and one face flashed in my mind. Becca.

Gasps rang out in the room as I opened my eyes to a very pleased looking doctor. “Looks like you will have a very successful recovery, Mr. Mendoza.”

I beamed, looking at my friends who smiled right back.

“But, Mr. Mendoza, there is something we should discuss… but later when you’re alone. I’ll come through again before my shift ends.”

I smiled at him and watched as he walked out along with the nurses.

My gaze moved back to my friends, and they looked at me, waiting for what I would say.

“Where’s Becca?”

Immediately they looked at one another.

“Where is she?” I ask again.

Lenna closed her eyes briefly before saying, “She left. She went back to California.”

California?

“Why did she leave?” I asked Lenna .

Her sour expression gave off the impression that something happened. “She, um… this was too much for her. She was having a flashback to what happened to my brother in high school. The accident.”

I nodded my head because I knew what happened. Lenna was my friend but so was Jordy, her younger brother. He told me all about Thomas and he also told me about Becca. I knew who she was the moment I saw her on the sideline next to Lenna.

“She just needs some time, I think,” Lenna continued.

I swallowed nervously because I shouldn’t have expected her to stick around. We weren’t an item. We never were together. I just wanted the opportunity to get to know her. I could understand her reluctance to be here after everything she’s been through. She just wasn’t ready for me yet.

***

Later that afternoon, I found myself alone with the doctor, knowing this conversation was going to make or break me. “We should probably discuss that other information, right?” Dr. Ziegler said.

I stared at the doctor, waiting for my impending doom. I knew that I shouldn’t expect much of a positive from him, but at least we had a successful surgery.

“Mr. Mendoza, we are very pleased with the results of your surgery, but there are a few things that we should discuss.”

I waited, looking at the doctor. He was in his later sixties, a lot of years of professionalism under his belt. His look was hopeful, but I could tell he didn’t want to share everything. Something wasn’t going to go my way.

“We… there will be many months of rehab to get you fully functional again,” he said, stepping towards my hospital bed and placing the clipboard on the side table.

He blew out a breath. “I have to be very honest with you. You will not be able to play football again.”

Am I having a stroke or did he just tell me that I can’t play football?

“I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood what you were saying. You just said I won’t play football again?”

“That is correct.”

I laughed. “No. No. You are wrong. I will play again. This is my job. This is my entire life.”

“I know this is overwhelming and it’s a lot to process–”

“Process?! You just told me that I would never be able to do what I dreamed my entire life of doing. You just ripped everything away from me!”

I screamed at him, but deep within me… I knew that he wasn’t at fault. This was an accident that shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Everything in me wanted to stand up and beat the shit out of the person closest to me, but it wouldn’t be worth it.

“I am very sorry. I know this is hard to hear. We will have therapists that will come to meet you tomorrow to discuss your recovery plan.”

He leaned over the bed, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Shyloh, you have been a fantastic quarterback, and I have had such a wonderful time watching you grow over the past eight years. You were the perfect player for the Kings, and even though it tears me up that you won’t play again… I am overjoyed that one day I get to watch you walk again. To live. You are so much more than just a football player and I think you should find ways to look for a greater purpose in your life.”

I didn’t even realize that I had started crying as well as Dr. Zeigler. He was a lifelong fan of the Crescent City Kings, and I knew it probably hurt him just as much to tell me my fate as it did for me.

He patted me, standing up and collecting his clipboard. He gave me a quick smile and turned to walk away.

“Dr. Ziegler,” I called, and he stopped, turning to face me.

“Thank you,” I said, barely above a whisper.

***

The snoring was absolutely horrendous. I turned my head to see Conrad sleeping on the couch with his feet propped up on the windowsill to allow him room to spread out.

He and I were not very fond of each other at first, but that was only because we were after the same girl. After watching how they interacted with each other, I realized I stood no chance, and it didn’t help that Conrad was a really great guy.

I took the pillow from my side and threw it at him.

He woke with a start, ready to combat whoever hit him .

“Shut the hell up with that snoring. You need to go see a doctor about that,” I groaned, and Conrad chuckled.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

I smiled at him. maybe he wasn’t all that bad. “Stone, what are you doing here?” I asked him.

He sat up, leaning back against the couch and stretching. “I need to be here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why? Because you know how much of an asshole you were to me?”

He sighed. “Actually, yes.”

“Oh my God. Does Conrad Stone have a sensitive side?”

He groaned as he stood and walked towards me. “Yes, I do, but I wanted to make sure someone was here with you.”

I pouted my lip. “Oh. You’re a sweetie poo, aren’t you?”

His face straightened into a ‘fuck around and find out’ expression. “No. I just didn’t want Lenna to stay here just in case you tried to make a move on her.”

I laughed. “Now you know that I wouldn’t do that… at least, not now anyhow.”

“I also wanted to let you know that we notified your mother about your progress. She and your father send their love and are sorry they’re not able to come visit.”

I nodded. My parents lived in an assisted living home in Arizona. My dad’s health really declined after he was discharged from the military, and my sweet Ma couldn’t let him be alone .

They were older, and it was difficult for them to get around, so I understood them not being able to come see me. Even though a hug from my Ma would do me some good right about now.

A knock brought our attention to the door. “Mr. Mendoza, I’m your nurse, Kaley, and I have some of your recovery plans that’d I’d like to go over with you if that’s okay?”

I smiled. “Recovery sounds good.”