Page 2 of Trade It All

But then I see her. Maddie. Kneeling beside him. Her blonde hair has fallen out of the messy bun she wore earlier today. Strands cling to her tear-streaked face as she presses shaking hands against Luka’s head. Her palms are soaked in blood.

“Come on, Luka,” she whispers brokenly. “You have to wake up.”

One of the EMTs says something to her. She doesn’t hear him. She’s locked in. Focused. Trying to save him.

“Maddie.”

Her head snaps up. For a moment she just stares at me like she’s forgotten how to breathe. Then the wall holding her together shatters. She stands too quickly, nearly slipping on the pavement before stumbling straight into me.

“Coach—”

The word dissolves into a sob as she crashes into my chest. I catch her automatically. Her body is shaking so hard I can feel it through my jacket.

“I—I found him like this,” she chokes. “He wouldn’t wake up and there was blood everywhere and I didn’t know if I was helping or making it worse—”

“You did good.” My voice comes out calm, steady. The way it used to in locker rooms when everything started going sideways. “You called for help. You stopped the bleeding.”

Her fingers grip my shirt like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. “I was too late.”

“You weren’t.” I tell her.

The paramedics lift Luka onto the stretcher. The ambulance doors slam shut. Sirens scream as they pull away. And when the lights disappear around the corner, Maddie finally collapses. Not literally. But whatever was holding her together gives out all at once.

I tighten my arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” I murmur. She doesn’t argue when I guide her to my truck.

The hospital is a blur.

Adrianna is already there when we arrive, pacing the hallway outside the trauma rooms. The moment she sees Maddie, she runs to her. Her eyes land on the blood still smeared across Maddie’s hands and sleeves.

Addy grabs her. “Thank you,” she says through tears.

Maddie shakes her head, voice breaking. “I didn’t save him.”

“You did,” Addy insists.

Maddie only shakes her head again. I don’t interrupt. Because I can see it in her eyes. She doesn’t believe it. Not even a little.

By the time we leave the hospital hours later, Maddie looks like she’s barely holding herself together. So I make the decision for her.

“You’re coming with me,” I say.

She doesn’t argue. The drive to my house is silent. Streetlights slide across her face as she stares out the passenger window. Her hands sit limp in her lap.

When we walk inside, she stops just past the doorway like she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” I tell her quietly as I hand her a t-shirt and the smallest pair of shorts I own.

She nods and disappears for a few minutes. When she comes back, her face is washed clean but her eyes are still red.

Exhaustion clings to her.

“Come on,” I say gently. I lead her down the hall to the spare bedroom. She hesitates in the doorway. “You can sleep here tonight.”

She nods again, slow and tired.

I grab an extra blanket from the closet and set it on the bed. The moment she sits down, her shoulders start shaking. And then the tears come.Hard.

The kind that break loose after someone holds themselves together too long.