Page 130 of Forever Offsides

I blink to blinding light right in my eyes and immediately close them again as a fresh wave of agony ripples through me along with a masterclass level of nausea.

“Wiggle your toes for me, Quinn.”

Wren.

“Am I doing it?” I think I manage to say.

“Yes. Good,” she praises. “Can you feel this?”

Something sharp pokes along my legs up to my arms. “Ow. Yes.”

“C-spine is clear. We’re going to take the neck brace off,” Micha announces. “Try not to move, though. You have a pretty nasty concussion.”

I can tell.

“Trauma surgery is—oh my god, Quinn?!” Katy. But… trauma surgery? How bad am I?

I must be pretty bad because nothing feels good. Everything feels awful. Fuzzy. Tingly. Nauseous. Painful.

“Brae,” I manage. “Don’t call my family. Not till after the game.”

“Don’t worry about that right now.”

I open my eyes and search for her even as the room spins like I’m on a ride. “I mean it. Promise me.”

Her face, wrought with worry, shifts in front of mine. “Okay. Fine. I promise.”

I cough, then choke. Oh god.

I’m rolled by about a dozen hands keeping me stable and aligned on my left side. Unable to stop it, I vomit all over the floor. It’s horrible and oddly embarrassing, but I can barely comprehend it. My head is throbbing like nothing else, but it’s more than that. My heart is fluttering in my chest, the sensation making my nausea worse as it goes up.

Something is wrong.

I can tell. It’s a wave of something coming over me. An aura almost.

I’m crashing.

“I’m not feeling well.” It’s all I can get out.

“Shit,” Braelyn hisses. “Roll her back. Her BP is dropping. Quinn, hang on. We’ve got you. Hang on.”

“Open the saline wide,” Wren yells. “Stand by with epi. We need O-negative in here now. Shit. Look at her upper left quadrant.”

I feel a pinch and burning by my subclavian in my upper right chest.

“I want an abdominal CT stat, and someone get me the portable ultrasound,” Katy demands. “I want the OR prepped and ready. We need to move fast. Judging by the amount of ecchymosis, it looks like a splenic lac.”

“Central line is in,” Micha announces. “Quinn, we’re going to sedate and intubate you.”

“Etomidate is on board,” Brae states. “Succs going in next.” Then her voice is by my ear. “I love you. You stay with us.”

I can’t respond. I can’t move. Then my world is black once again.

40

RHETT

I’ve been in the worst sort of mood all day. There were reporters outside of Quinn’s house when I got home last night so I couldn’t go over and see her, and a few lingering about this morning when I left home. I kept my head down, but one noticed me, so it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows I live up the street from Quinn. Something we weren’t hiding but definitely weren’t advertising.