What a fucking game! I’m so proud of you. Coach told me after the game that he was impressed with how well you’ve been playing.
Jarrett, did you end up going out? Call me.
Come on man, don’t leave me hanging.
Chapter 27
Late-Night Visit
Flashback - 3.5 Years Earlier
I startle awake on the couch. I must have dozed off after the game waiting for Jarrett to text me back. The ESPN highlights I was watching are over and there’s an infomercial for a sponge playing on the screen. A sharp knock at the door echoes through the dark room. Checking my phone, I see it’s almost 2:30 a.m. and there’s still no response from my brother.
My stomach churns. Having someone knock on your door at this time of night is never a good thing. Pushing my hand through my hair, I make my way across the apartment we share and twist the deadbolt before I pull the door open.
Coach is standing there, casually dressed in a pair of jeans and a Commander’s hoodie. When he looks up from where he’s staring at the floor, the pity in his eyes is undeniable. I know whatever he’s about to tell me isn’t good news.
“Coach?”
“Cruz, can I come in?” There’s a deep V creasing his forehead as he looks past me into the apartment.
“Um, sure. What’s going on?” That churning in my gut is a fucking wave pool now. He doesn’t just show up at a player’s house for no reason.
“Let’s take a seat for a second.” He points toward the couch, and I follow him but don’t sit. I can’t. Instead, I pace the floor, waiting for him to speak.
“Coach, I’m freaking out. Can you tell me why you’re here?” I’m nearing full-on panic. My heart is beating so rapidly that I can barely hear my own words over the rhythm, and there’s a coppery taste in my mouth that’s setting me on edge. Nothing about this feels right.
“There was an accident tonight in Miami. Jarrett was injured. I don’t have a lot of details yet, but I’ve spoken to your parents. They’re on a plane down there now. I’m going to take you to the airport where a plane is waiting.”
“Jarrett was hurt? What happened? Is he okay?” I fire the questions at him, barely taking a breath between them as I search the room, looking for my phone.
“We can talk more on the way to the airport. I don’t have a lot of information, but I can tell you what I know. Do you want to grab anything?”
I shake my head. “Just my wallet and I need to find my damn phone.”
Coach places his hand on my arm. “Where’s your wallet? I’ll grab it for you. Your phone is in your hand.”
I look down, my hand is wrapped so tightly around my phone that my knuckles are turning white. “Bedroom, end of the hall, on my dresser.” My voice sounds like it’s off in the distance. Coach Becker stands, looking hesitant to leave my side for a moment before he turns down the hall.
Robotically, I move to the door, shoving my feet into a pair of shoes while I wait for him to return. When he returns, he hands me the wallet and grabs the keys from the hook and places them on top of my wallet.
I follow him out of the apartment and into the elevator without a word. When we get to the lobby, he leads me out front where his car is parked, with the hazards blinking, in a loading zone. I stop short at the passenger side door.
“Coach? Is he going to be okay?” He fucking looks away, staring down the road before he looks back at me, and I can see it in his eyes. They’re filled with sympathy.
“Let’s get you on the plane so you can be with your family, Cruz.”
On the drive to the airport, I try calling Jarrett first. It takes several failed attempts before I move on to my parents. Their phones just ring to voicemail as well. Coach looks over at me as we take the exit to the private terminal.
“They’re probably still in the air.”
“Well, what the fuck do you expect me to do here? Huh?” I’m yelling at my coach. It’s something I’ve never done before, but the fear and frustration are overruling everything else. “You show up and tell me my brother is hurt, but nothing else. It’s obviously bad if you are flying me out in the middle of the night, but you won’t tell me a goddamn thing.” My voice breaks. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do?” He keeps his eyes on the road, but I can see his hands twisting on the steering wheel. It’s not in his nature to allow a player to speak to him like that. Not that I give a fuck right now.
He slows to a stop at the curb before turning to look at me. “I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. You need to scream at me? Fine. But right now, your family needs you and I’m trying to get you there. The doctors will give you more information.”
Only that doesn’t turn out to be true. After the longest flight of my life, I arrive at the hospital where no one can tell me a fucking thing. When I give them my name at the front desk, it takes the nurse what feels like hours to get me directed to where my parents are waiting.
“Cruz!” my mom cries out when I enter the private waiting area. The agony in her voice when she says my name is a sound I never want to hear again. I cross a small, barren room in a few long strides before I have her in my arms. Any strength she was hanging onto when I entered the room dissolves and her body trembles violently as she sobs.
