Chapter 13 #2
But it was Coach who answered my question.
“It’s called retrograde amnesia. When you get hit that hard, for a little while the brain can’t make new memories.
You don’t remember the game, do you, big guy?
” Graham looked up at him, confused. Coach moved closer to him, giving him the same gentle punch on the arm that you’d give a toddler. “Hang in there, kid.”
“How are we doing?” a heavyset female doctor asked, stomping into the room. She had a voice like a chainsaw.
“What happened?” Graham asked.
“You took a hit on the head,” the doctor said, jotting something on the chart she was holding. Then she looked up at Coach and me. “I sure hope one of you is Rikker. We’re getting tired of making excuses for you.”
“Um…” I started.
“Did they get you too?” Graham asked, looking me up and down.
“I’m fine,” I said again. “I didn’t take a hit.”
He squinted at me. “What are we doing at the hospital?”
“Jesus, Graham!” Bella put a hand to her heart. She looked like she might even pass out. So I moved around the crowded little room and put my hands on her shoulders.
The doctor approached Graham with a little penlight in her hand. “You’re at the hospital because you have a concussion. We need to watch you for a few hours just to make sure everything is going well for you.”
“Can I take him home tonight?” Coach asked. “It’s a two-hour drive. We could have him checked out at our own hospital by midnight.”
The doctor frowned. “I’m sure you know your way around a concussion. But I can’t advise that. These next couple of hours are the ones that matter the most. We need to be sure he doesn’t have an even more serious head injury.”
Coach held his hands up. “Okay. It was just a suggestion. I want him to have whatever he needs.” He nodded to Bella and me and then tipped his head toward the door. “Let’s go figure out what we’re going to do. The rest of the team needs to get back.”
“I’ll be right back, Sweetie,” Bella whispered.
She lifted Graham’s hand and gave his palm the same kiss that I would have liked to give it.
Then she patted his arm, and she and I followed Coach the short distance into the waiting room.
“If he has to stay, I can drive him back in the morning,” Bella offered in a shaky voice. I’d never seen her so rattled.
Coach put a hand on her shoulder. “I was just going to ask if you could do that, honey.”
“Is Rikker here?” came from the back.
Oh, fuck.
“What the hell?” Hartley asked, wandering up to us. “Is he okay?”
“He’s confused,” I said, feeling sweat begin to coat my back. “Really confused. It’s a concussion. Maybe he thinks we all just left him here.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Hartley said, maneuvering around us towards the back.
“That would be great,” I said, relaxing a little.
“So, Bella needs a car and a hotel room,” Coach said, pulling out his phone. “We’ll set that up. Then I’ll speak to the doctor again. And when we’re sure that he’s okay, the rest of us can head out.”
Most of my teammates were milling around the waiting room now. “I saw some vending machines by the front door,” Orson said. “Anybody want to spot me a dollar?”
“What happened to Rikker?” came from the exam room.
Fuck. There he went again. My neck got hot, and I began sending some very desperate thoughts back in Graham’s direction. For the love of all that’s holy, please stop asking for me.
Big-D was rifling through his wallet, looking for singles for the vending machine. “What’s up with him?” he asked. “He must be really out of his mind if he’s looking for the team homo.”
At that, my blood pressure spiked. And then it spiked again, because Graham picked that moment to call, “Rikker!”
I took a deep breath in through my nose. “Maybe he was trying to pass me the puck before he got clonked. He wants to know if the pass was complete.”
Bella gave me a skittish look that implied that I should probably just shut up now.
Hartley emerged from the back, a startled look on his face. “Shit, he is confused. He doesn’t know why we’re at a hospital.”
Coach nodded, tapping on his phone. “I know it’s a little creepy, but it always goes away. Tomorrow he’ll make more sense.”
“…And he really wants to talk to Rikker,” Hartley finished with a shrug. “Like, he doesn’t know he just talked to you five minutes ago.”
“Weird,” I said, sweating.
“Rikker!”
With too many sets of eyes on me, I turned and hustled toward the back. When I stepped into Graham’s room again, his face went right to relief. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Of course I am, G.”
“They didn’t get you?”
I shook my head. “You’re the only one who’s hurt,” I said carefully. There was something about the way he kept worrying about me that just didn’t make sense. If I could figure out what it was, maybe he’d stop yelling my name.
“How did I get hurt?”
“You got knocked down in the hockey game against Central Mass.” I sat down on the plastic chair on the wall at the head of his bed.
“Everything is going to be fine, G.” I checked to be sure that we were completely alone before reaching over to give his shoulder a little squeeze. “Seriously, just relax.”
“We’re at the hospital?” Graham asked.
Jesus. “Yes, G. We are at the hospital. You got hit on the head. But you’re going to be okay.” I yawned like a lion, suddenly exhausted. Graham closed his eyes, and it made me want to do the same. So I leaned back against the wall and relaxed.
A couple of minutes later, Bella appeared in the doorway. Graham’s eyes flew open. “Where am I?” he asked her.
“In the hospital,” she said, her face drawn with worry.
“Where’s Rikker?” Graham asked.
Bella’s eyes went wide, and she pointed at me.
With great effort, Graham turned, spotting me. “Rikker are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said yet again. “Dude, why do you keep asking me that?”
He looked frustrated. “We’re in the hospital. Did they get us both?”
Goosebumps rose up on my arms. “Did who get us?”
Graham’s face flushed, and his eyes got red. But he didn’t say a word.
And now my own throat was tightening up, because I thought I understood. “G,” I whispered. “Do you think that somebody got beat up? Like in the alley?”
His voice was scratchy, and his eyes were enormous. “Why are we at a hospital? Tell me the truth.”
“Whoa,” I said, putting a hand on the side of his face, my thumb brushing his top lip. “No, man. It’s not like that. We’re here because of a hockey injury. Just a hockey game.”
Those cool blue eyes measured me. I could see him trying to decide whether or not it was safe to relax.
There was a sound in the hallway then, and I yanked my hand back just in time.
Coach stuck his head in. “Rikker, Bella, let’s strategize.” He beckoned to us and then disappeared. I’d forgotten that Bella was even in the room with us. She stood there, frozen, staring at us.
I looked down at Graham. “Listen. We’re at the hospital because of a hit you took in the hockey game.”
Slowly, Graham nodded.
“Repeat it,” I demanded. “Why are we here?”
“The hockey game,” he said.
“That’s right. And everyone else is fine, okay? I’m going to talk to Coach for a second. Don’t yell for me, okay? Because the whole team can hear you. And I’m right outside.”
Grabbing a speechless Bella by the elbow, I pulled her into the waiting area.
The doctor was giving instructions to Coach. “Two weeks at the bare minimum. But he’ll need to be evaluated then. Don’t rush it. You do not want a second concussion. The second time takes twice as long to recover.”
Coach winced. “Okay. We’ll be conservative.”
I was practically hopping from foot to foot, wondering how long Graham would remember what I’d just told him. But the doctor wasn’t finished with Coach.
“Please do,” the doctor continued. “I’ve seen far too many repeat concussions in this E.R.
, always because a big game was coming up, and the athlete insisted he was fine.
I’m going to send him home with a lot of care information.
But he’ll need help making decisions. I know he’s an adult, but his parents should be involved. ”
“They will be. Thank you.” Coach turned to the whole crew. “Okay, guys. Last call for the men’s, or the soda machine. We’re going to hit the road.” Then he put a hand on Bella’s shoulder and began talking about a rental car and a hotel room.
“Rikker!” Graham barked from the other room.
Aw Christ. There was so much fear in his voice it was practically ripping me in two.
Bella and Coach looked up from their conversation. Coach frowned. “Damn. I wish he was doing better already. I’ll go tell him goodbye.” He walked to the back, with Bella on his heels.
Hartley waved me over. “You’re coming on the bus, right?”
My mouth went dry, wondering what would happen after I left.
Was Graham going to yell my name all night?
And all because he thought some thugs beat me up in an alley.
But if I stayed here, everyone might wonder why.
Or would they? I felt utterly paranoid. I felt like Graham.
“Uh, yeah,” I said to Hartley. “Unless you think Bella could use my help. She might like that. I mean… whatever makes sense, man.” I tried to sound casual, but my voice was shaking.
Hartley just looked at me right then. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Hartley looked right through me.
I could actually see the understanding blossom in his brown eyes.
What followed was the most awkward silence of my life.
Just a vacuum in space between my captain and I, with the guffaws of the French freshman and Big-D as background noise.
Finally, Hartley cleared his throat. “Would he, uh, want you to stay here?”
I looked down at the linoleum floor tiles. “I don’t fucking know. He’s not making any sense.”
And then Big-D was standing there too, chewing peanut M&Ms and asking Hartley when they were leaving.
“Whenever Coach says,” Hartley snapped.