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Why can’t you stay away from me? Better yet, why can’t I stay away from you?
I’m officially losing my mind. I’m sitting in a chair next to Scarlett and reading our text message threads from last year.
Still dressed in my football uniform, I couldn’t care any less about today’s record breaking 75-12 win. I hit the field, played my best, and hauled ass to get back to her side.
“Please say something, Scarlett,” I caress her hand. “Please.”
Her response is the same as always.
Silence.
The only other noise in this room is the steady beeping from the machines.
“Well, well, well. I should’ve known,” a deep voice says, making me look up. “But I guess I needed to see it with my own eyes.”
Jeremiah is standing in the doorway, holding a bouquet of roses. He steps inside and sets them on Tully’s table.
“It took me a minute to figure this out, but you’re the ‘on and off again boyfriend’ that Scarlett told me about, right?”
“Yes.”
“Figures…” He takes off a backpack and places it on the couch. “Your clothes for this week are in there. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks. Did you bring Coach’s notes from today’s game, too?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No.” I let go of Scarlett’s hand. “I could use a good distraction.”
“Dude you had an eighty eight percent completion rate today,” he says. “The only thing Coach said about you was ‘leave him the fuck alone.’”
“Noted.”
He looks over at Tully and sighs. “I hope you’re talking to her as well while you’re here.”
“I am.” I nod. “I tell how her fucking sorry I am for not telling her the truth every day…”
* * *
The next day,I force myself to walk around the hospital’s campus. I’m in desperate need of fresh air and conversation.
The only people I find are doctors smoking near the delivery dock, though. Even then, they’re engrossed in conversations about surgeries, and I need a break from that, too.
I head toward the freight elevator that leads to where all the janitors hangout, but a woman’s shrill cry stops me dead in my tracks.
Rounding the corner, I spot her banging her head against a vending machine and arguing with a police officer.
“My son can't stay here for one more day?” She cries. “Surely there are more tests that need to be done.”
“The doctors say he’s cleared and fine, so no.” The cop’s voice is flat.
“I’m his mother and I’m telling you that he’snotfine. And I really don’t appreciate such short notice regarding an arrest. It’s not necessary.”
“Ma'am, your son nearly killed two people, and one of those people is connected to one of the most high profile college players we’ve had in years… He's lucky he only has a concussion and a few fractured bones. He’s also lucky that no one from the university knows where he’s been recovering all this time.”
My blood begins to simmer.
The elevator doors glide open, but I don't get into the car. Instead, I step back and lean against the wall.
