20 - Phillip
I should have knownthe parking lot would be brutal. I appreciate people wanting to celebrate, cheering and clapping, honking their horns at me in recognition of our win tonight, but I’ve got a problem and need to go. If this isn’t an exercise in patience, I don’t know what is.
I had a bad feeling. For the entire game, I couldn’t shake it. I should have trusted my gut. It’s never been wrong yet. I just hope this time it is. Right now, if I squeeze the steering wheel any tighter, I might snap it in half. My knuckles are white and my tires squeal once I finally make it to the parking lot exit.
Fear destroys any sense of calmness I had earlier. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach only gets worse when Samantha doesn’t answer her phone. I’ve tried twice now and both times nothing. Roxy’s not even answering.
Lately, I’ve been trying to read up on everything I can about Samantha’s condition. I figure the more I learn, the more I can help. Knowledge is power. But right now, I feel useless trying to get home to her. What help can I be if we’re separated? If I’m here and she’s there, I can’t do anything. Desperation claws in my chest making me feel like I swallowed broken glass. I can’t shake this...something’s wrong.
I run a red light, watching both sides of the intersection even though I know it’s wrong. All I know is I have to get to my girlfriend. I try calling again but they don’t answer. Why aren’t they answering? Cynthia couldn’t give me much to go on before Knox came out. It’s not uncommon for Samantha to feel lousy. Not to mention, it’s only been a week since her test. I hope nothing went wrong. I’ll feel better once I get eyes on my girl.
I turn the corner to our street and am met with the sight of flashing lights and an ambulance in her front yard. My worst nightmare is playing out in front of me. I gun the gas then slam the brakes. As I park in my driveway, I run to Samantha, leaving my door hang open.
“Sam!”
The gurney supports are being folded under, lifting my girlfriend into the back of the ambulance.
“Phillip?” I hear my mom’s voice but pay her no attention. I make it to the back just in time to see Roxy sitting next to the paramedic and Samantha as they close the door.
“Get back please.” The paramedic bangs the back door then runs around and hops in, the ambulance leaving with its lights on.
“Phillip!” My mom grabs my face, but my eyes are frantically looking everywhere else but her. “Phillip, look at me. Look in my eyes.”
My eyes swivel to her but my body tenses with the fight or flight feeling, knowing I need to get in the truck.
“There you are.” She locks eye contact with me and softly pats my cheeks. “We’ll go the hospital, we will. But I need you to breathe.”
We’re standing in the middle of the yard. I’m in my football uniform, my truck haphazardly parked with the door wide open, and my girlfriend is being carted to the hospital.
“I gotta go.”
“I know and we will, sweetheart. But listen to me. You need a change of clothes and a quick shower.” I start to object but mom cuts me off. “They won’t let us see her right away while they assess her. You have time. And then you’ll be there a long time after. Do this while I close up their house. Then we’ll go, but we’ll drive safely there. Okay?” I almost argue again with my eyes swimming in unshed tears, but mom cuts me off again. “I’ll tell you what I know on the way. Come on.”
“Ok.” I run into the house for the fastest shower of my life.