Chapter Nineteen
SAMMIE WAS OUT of her seat and standing the moment Atticus hit the floor. Kai’s fingers wrapped around her wrist from where he still sat, frozen in his chair.
The medical team was already on the court, including Ivy, who was barking for the other players to get back and give Dr. Young room.
A vice had clamped down on Sammie’s lungs, keeping air from entering or exiting her body until she felt as though she might burst from the pressure. The grip on her wrist released.
“I need to get down there.” Kai’s voice was quiet, too quiet, even for him. His wide eyes were panicked, unfocused, glued to her brother on the court, his face drained of color. He stood up suddenly, ready to make a break for the floor.
“Hang on,” Sammie said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close. It was as much for herself as it was for him. If Kai was still here with her, she wouldn’t have to face whatever happened alone. “Let them do their job, they’ll take care of him.”
Kai was shaking, a slight tremor that rocked through him in waves. She’d never doubted his feelings for her brother, but the despair painting his face now was enough to reassure her that nothing mattered more to Kai than Atticus did.
He stopped resisting her, letting Sammie hold him in place as they both watched the scene on the court play out.
She caught a glimpse of her brother through the mess of bodies, his expression still wound up with pain.
Dr. Young was doing a cursory exam of his ankle, which seemed to be the root of the problem.
Sammie’s view of her brother was blocked as the group around him shifted, and her eyes scanned the rest of the court.
Kieran still sat where he had fallen to his knees at Atticus’ side, his face a mask of shocked despair that made Sammie’s heart ache.
It had been a mistake, one any player could make.
Atticus had approached from his periphery, and they had both been determined to keep the ball from getting past. Players collided all the time.
Kieran had just thrown himself a little too hard, a little too far, just enough to put Atticus off balance as he tried to recover.
“I feel like I’m gonna puke,” Kai murmured as Sammie’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She tugged it out, desperate for any sort of distraction.
Ivy: he’ll be fine <3
Sammie looked up, finding her friend on the court.
Ivy gave her a small, sad smile as Sammie showed Kai the message and they both sagged with relief.
Kai snatched Sammie’s phone out of her hand, typing quickly, asking when they could see Atticus, but Ivy was already back in work mode, laser-focused and ready to help the team’s physical therapist in any way she could.
“She’ll let us know soon,” Sammie said, finally releasing her hold on Kai now that he looked less likely to spring over the seats in front of them to get to his boyfriend.
A few minutes later Atticus was limping off the court to cheers from the fans. Kai had just settled back into his seat when Sammie’s phone rang, causing him to jump into the air like a startled feline.
Sammie answered the call. “How bad is it?”
Ivy sighed. She’d left the court as well.
“Doc thinks it’s just a sprain, but he wants to do a more thorough exam without a whole team of mother hens leaning over his shoulder.
” She chuckled, and the sound relaxed something in Sammie.
If Ivy could laugh about the situation, it really would be okay.
“Kieran’s out for the game, though. Guy’s pretty torn up about it all. ”
Sammie watched him lower himself onto the bench below, his head sinking into his hands.
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“Tried to tell him that,” Ivy said, a fond exasperation coloring the words. “But he’s the worst mother hen of them all. He’s having a bad night, Sammie.” A pause, as though Ivy were waiting from a response that Sammie wasn’t ready to give her. “Can I talk to Kai?”
Sammie handed the phone over. Kai listened as Ivy gave him what Sammie assumed was the same update on Atticus’ condition. Kai’s shoulders sagged with relief.
They chatted on Sammie’s phone a bit longer before he ended the call. “Ivy said to meet her in the hall and she’ll take us back to see him.” Kai was already squeezing past her. “You coming now?”
Sammie watched Kieran on the bench. Frustration and shame lined his posture, had his shoulders curling in. His eyes were vacant, unseeing as the rest of his teammates tried to settle back into the game.
Atticus would be fine. It was just a sprain.
Sammie finally spoke when Kai looked as though he would simply leave without her. “You go ahead. I’ll find you after this set.”
Kai followed her stare, his gaze landing on Kieran with a wince. “See you in a bit,” he said, before hurrying off toward the nearest exit.
The rest of the crowd had already moved on, ready for excitement that wasn’t laced with tragedy, ready for the rest of the game they’d paid to see. Sammie’s eyes were glued on Kieran.
She watched helplessly from the stands as Kieran hung his head in defeat when the Sharks took the third set and the win.
A sink dripped somewhere in the locker room, a gentle, staccato rhythm that Kieran’s mind stayed fixed on as he sat alone.
The mood had been generally morose after the loss. Sure, they had one more chance, one more game in the regular season to snag their spot in the tournament. But that just meant the pressure would be higher.
And they’d lost their starting setter.
Drip drip.
The trio that Kieran was beginning to think of as his own set of stooges had tried to cheer him up.
Aaron had simply sat next to him quietly on the hard metal bench.
He was so different from Atticus. Quiet, calm, collected at all times.
But Aaron would be setting for them next week.
Maybe even into post-season, if they could pull off one more win.
Bowen, bless his heart, tended to resort to bad jokes whenever he felt awkward.
“Who directed that movie about all the volleyball players?”
Kieran didn’t have the energy to muster a response.
“Spike Lee!”
Eric snickered at that one. He’d taken the spot on Kieran’s other side, leaning against him, hair still wet from his shower and falling into his eyes.
“It wasn’t your fault. Could have happened to any of us.”
Even Bowen had quit with the jokes when Eric finally spoke up.
“Doesn’t feel that way,” was Kieran’s only response. They’d stayed with him a while longer as the rest of their team had filed out of the locker room one-by-one. David Lu offered Kieran a pat on the back, squeezing his shoulder as Kieran continued to wait in silence.
For what? He didn’t know.
Drip.
He was alone now, his teammates—his friends—long gone. They’d probably gotten sick of Kieran’s moping, even if they’d hidden it with soft goodbyes and small smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.
Kieran couldn’t sit there all night. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, even though they hadn’t played the full five sets. He felt drained, the will to get up and go home dripping out of him like water from that leaky faucet.
A door behind him opened. The sound of sneakers on linoleum.
“Still here?”
Coach’s voice was gentle, but firm. “Sorry,” said Kieran. He rose from the bench. “I’m heading out now.”
Crossing the room, Coach shook his head. “Sit back down.”
So Kieran did. He tried to hold his shoulders straight, tried to look as steady as possible for the reprimand he knew was coming. He’d talked to Coach before the game. Had explained his father’s situation. The other man knew Kieran had been distracted.
Coach knew it was all Kieran’s fault.
“Mills is going to be fine,” he said. Then, with a deep sigh, he crouched down, letting his back slide along the wall until he was seated on the floor in front of Kieran. Knees bent, arms resting on their tops. It was so casual, something Kieran didn’t often see from their coach.
“It’s just a sprain,” he continued. Moisture pricked the back of Kieran’s eyes at the news. Atticus would be okay. He was hurt, but it was something he would recover from.
“I’m sorry.” Kieran felt like a broken record, stuck on the same apology, the words playing again and again in his head until he was forced to say them once more.
Coach shook his head, sucking in a deep breath. “I know you’ll just keep beating yourself up about it. But Carpenter’s right, what happened wasn’t your fault.”
Ah. So the stooges had sent Coach as a last ditch effort. A flicker of warmth lit in Kieran’s chest, but it was hard to feel past the torrential downpour of guilt still battering him.
“I’ve seen the same exact accident happen to players with a lot less weighing on them than what you’ve got tonight.
And I’m the one who put you in the game, who asked you to play.
I knew what I was doing, and I trusted you.
” A pause that filled Kieran with more guilt.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been trusted. Maybe his worries over not being the right person to lead this team were valid.
“I still trust you, McCullough. You’re a damn good player, and these guys respect you.
Kelly and Carpenter are nearly unmanageable, but they behave around you.
And Lu, I figured he’d never hold any sort of esteem for some young hotshot coming in here and earning himself the title of captain.
He’s still a hardass, but he’s a hardass who knows you earned your place. ”
A lump was forming in Kieran’s throat, his nose going tingly as he struggled to meet Coach’s stare.
“And Mills,” Coach continued, huffing out a small laugh. “Watching you and Mills on the court together is like listening to a two part harmony. Part of me thinks he’ll expedite healing that ankle by sheer force of will just to get back out there. He’ll never let you keep playing without him.”
Kieran swallowed thickly. “And what if I don’t keep playing?”