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I shook my head, unable to cope with what I was hearing.
Unable to breathe through the absolute devastation ripping through me.
“You’ll play again, Johnny,” Gibsie said in a calmer tone. “It just won’t be right now.”
“Right now is when it matters,” I strangled out. “Right now is all that matters.”
“No, lad,” he corrected. “Getting you healthy is all that matters.”
“What am I going to do, Gibs?” I choked out, keeping my hand over my face. “It’s my whole life.”
I heard him exhale heavily, and then his hand was on my shoulder.
“We’ll figure it out, Johnny.” He squeezed my arm. “Just rest here for a bit and let the meds kick in. The ambulance won’t be much longer, lad.”
“I don’t want to go out there.” I shook my head. “I don’t want them to see.”
“No one knows any details,” he assured me. “Just that you took a spill and got knocked out.”
“Don’t tell,” I begged. “Please…I can’t—”
“I won’t,” he promised.
63Oops, I Did It Again
SHANNON
I had no rational explanation for why I had spent the last hour and a half standing outside the clubhouse in the pouring rain. I didn’t want to think about it too much. My feelings were concerning me, but not as much as what was going on inside that changing room.
I should have gone back to the bus with Claire and Lizzie and everyone else from our school, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t seem to get my feet to move in the direction of common sense.
Instead, I waited. And I worried. And I desperately fought the urge to barge my way into the visitors’ changing room.
Skulking outside in the darkness, I watched as players from both Royce and Tommen filed out of the clubhouse, followed by coaches, Mr. Mulcahy, and the match doctor.
No one seemed to notice me and I wasn’t surprised. All of those boys seemed to be at least a foot taller than me.
That was, until Gibsie came out.
“Hey, little Shannon,” he said, noticing me immediately. “What are you doing standing out here in the rain?”
“Oh, I was just… I wanted to… He was… And I…” Flapping my hands helplessly, I gave up and shrugged. “I was worried.”
“About Johnny?”
My shoulders sagged and I nodded in defeat. “Is it bad?”
Gibsie frowned, looking uncertain.
“Come on, Gibsie,” I pleaded. “Just tell me.”
“He’s fine, little Shannon—”
“Don’t lie to me,” I strangled out. “Please.” Exhaling a ragged breath, I continued, “I need to know.”
“He’s in a bad way,” he admitted quietly. “Depending on what the doctors say when he gets to the hospital, he’s looking at some serious time out of the game.” Exhaling heavily, he ran a hand through his hair. “He’s out for the final, for sure.”
“I don’t want to know if he can play rugby or not,” I squeezed out as a wave of guilt swallowed me up. “I want to know if he is okay! Him. Johnny! The person. Not the fucking rugby player!”
