Jesus.
I knew Carter had a sister, but her being here he kept that quiet. I didn’t even put her name and Carter’s sister together.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just… if she tries to help you, let her. She needs to help someone. Needs to feel like she can save someone since she couldn’t save herself.”
We pull up to my apartment building. Carter helps me inside while Maya waits in the car, still sleeping.
“You’re staying with me tonight, go pack a bag.” Carter says. It’s not a question. “Doctor said twenty-four-hour monitoring. Plus you can barely move your arm. You need help.”
“I’ll be fine?—”
“Ryder, for the love of god, stop saying you’re fine. You’re not fine. I’m not fine. Maya’s not fine. None of us are fine, and pretending otherwise is how we all end up destroyed.”
He’s right. I know he’s right.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Thanks.”
“That’s what teammates do. We show up for each other, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
Chapter 5
Maya
I wakeup in Carter’s apartment on the couch, covered with a blanket I don’t remember getting. Morning light streams through the windows, and I can hear voices in the kitchen.
“—telling Coach today,” Carter is saying.
“No.” Ryder’s voice, rougher than last night. “Give me a few days. Let me figure out how to?—”
“How to what? How to hide a grade two AC separation? Ryder, it’s over. You have to tell him.”
“If I tell him, I’m done. He’ll bench me for the season.”
“Better benched than destroyed.”
I sit up, and both of them look over. Ryder is sitting at the kitchen table, his right arm in a sling, his face pale and drawn. He looks worse in daylight.
“Morning,” Carter says. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
He pours me a cup while I try to piece together how I got here. I remember the ER, sitting in the waiting room, trying not to think about my own visits to emergency rooms. Then… nothing.
“You fell asleep in the car,” Carter explains. “I carried you up. Figured you’d rather wake up here than have me drive you back to your dorm at two AM.”
“Thanks.” I take the coffee gratefully. “How are you feeling?” I ask Ryder.
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
“That’s what happens when you practice alone at midnight with a serious injury.”
“Maya,” Carter warns.
“What? It’s true. He knows it’s true.”
Ryder looks at me with something like amusement despite the obvious pain. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”
