Chapter 47
Mel froze in the middle of flipping through a stack of papers. “Is he okay?”
Denny didn’t look away from the screen at Mel’s question. “How am I supposed to know? Does he look okay?”
No, he really didn’t. Not when he still had his hand pressed to his shoulder as he walked into the dugout. A person with a short blond ponytail stepped up to him and started to unbuckle his chest protector. They disappeared from the view of the cameras.
“Looks like Molson is heading back into the clubhouse,” one of the broadcasters said. Mel couldn’t remember who was who. “Let's hope it's only a minor strain.”
“I’m sure the Infernoes hope the exact opposite,” the other broadcaster said.
“What happened?” Mel tried to ignore the broadcaster’s words. “He’s thrown out players without hurting himself before. It’s not like anyone ran into him.” Not this time. They’d seen him take a hit like that in a game before, and he hadn’t budged. In fact, he’d played the rest of the game.
Denny threw their arms up in the air. “How am I supposed to know? I’m not there, Mel.”
Mel was about to snap back at Denny, but then saw the worry in their sibling’s eyes. They took a deep breath and their gaze went to the screen. Another catcher came out and took over Rhys’s place. “I have paperwork to do.” Mel forced themself to turn from the TV.
When they got to their office, they didn’t look through the profiles of the counselors who had reached out.
Mel needed to make some decisions since the directors had finally agreed on hiring someone.
Even though they’d had reservations, especially Dirk Johnson.
Mel needed to fight him every step of the way, so that wasn’t a huge surprise.
Mel just had to narrow it down. What if they didn’t find the right person?
What if the one they chose ended up doing more harm than good.
Instead they brought up the team’s social media pages and flipped between them, refreshing each, checking to see if something would be posted.
What if he had really been hurt? Would he be able to play again? If not, that would devastate him.
Mel forced themself to leave the mouse where it was and picked up the first profile they’d printed earlier. They could have read these on the computer, they knew that. Although sometimes it helped to be able to spread things out and look at it all together.
The words on the pages blurred, and Mel turned to the computer. Hitting refresh. Skimming for Rhys’s name.
Finally, they saw something.
Rhys Molson moved to injured list, awaiting further information. Mel clicked the link and skimmed through the short article. Removed from the game. Possible shoulder injury. Will be getting scans. More information forthcoming.
Well, that didn’t tell them much. Time to go to the source.
Mel
Are you okay?
They didn’t know if he’d respond right away, or at all if he wasn’t okay. Yet they kept glancing at their phone. He probably didn’t have his phone on him. He couldn’t during games, right? If he was in a lot of pain, he wouldn’t be looking at it now, anyway.
God, they hoped he wasn’t in a lot of pain.
They returned to the papers, trying to take their mind off Rhys.
They’d just picked up the first of the applications when their phone rang.
They weren’t sure whom it could be. Their mom, maybe.
Checking up on how they were handling the twins.
Despite saying she’d basically washed her hands of all three of them.
But Rhys’s name flashed on the display instead. They lunged for their phone so quickly, they almost sent it spinning across the desk and to the floor.
“Hey,” they said once they held it securely in their hand. “Are you okay? Should you even be on the phone?”
He let out a short laugh. “I banged up my shoulder, not my head.”
“I meant…the game isn’t over yet, right?” They hadn’t heard anything from Denny in a while.
“No, but I’m back in the locker room. I’m not going to go on social media. I don’t think I want to know what anyone out there is saying.”
“I didn’t see anything bad. I was just looking for updates on your team’s pages.”
“Don’t read the comments. Trust me. Do. Not. Read. Them.”
“Well, now I feel like I have to. You shouldn’t have put the temptation in front of me.”
He laughed, but the sound turned to a groan.
“Seriously, Rhys. How bad were you hurt?”
“Not sure. Going for an MRI in the morning. Just to rule anything major out. Probably have to keep it immobile for a couple days no matter what. Which means I’m out for the whole series. While we’re in this fucking town. It’s just my luck.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Mel asked. “You’re in New Cresthill, aren’t you? I’ve been there a couple times. It’s not Cleveland, but it’s not that far away, so they have some things to do.”
Rhys was quiet for so long Mel thought the call dropped or something. But, it was still showing up on their screen.
Finally, he said, “I grew up here.”
“You mean you aren’t a local boy like Caleb and Brock?”
He let out a rough laugh. “No. Not even a small town boy like them. Well, maybe. Don’t know exactly where I was born or where I spent the first couple years of my life. My mother abandoned me in the parking lot of the New Cresthill Fire Department. That’s where I was placed in foster care.”
“Oh my god.”
“Nothing happened to me. Simon Molson found me when he came in for his shift in the morning. He took me to a restaurant for breakfast. It’s actually the place right next to our hotel. He stayed with me until a social worker came.”
“Molson?” Mel asked. “Was he related to you? Why didn’t your mother drop you off with him then?”
“That’s a long story and damn… There goes the game.”
They heard Denny’s shout from the other end of the center. “What happened?”
“I really need to work with Zaid on his blocking. He should have stopped that ball. I have to go, Mel. I’ll call you later.”
“But, what—” He was already gone. Mel set the phone down. Just when it felt like Rhys was actually talking to them. They wanted to know more about him, and now they worried he’d shut down once again when he wasn’t addled by pain.
They’d have to figure out a way to get him to talk. They were sure they could come up with something.