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Or at least a growing competition between me and Trey. In medieval times, I'd have wagered for Monika.
But these aren't the medieval times.
And Monika isn't a possession to be bartered for.
Once again, I glance over to where she's standing by the cheerleaders. Her attention is focused our way.
When Dieter blows his whistle, I sprint alongside Trey, wanting to win so fucking bad. My legs pound on the grass and my arms pump fast.
It's over quick. Too quick. Trey beats me by one tenth of a second.
I put my hands on my knees and bend over, trying to catch my breath. So much for showing off. I should resign myself to the fact that I just got my ass handed to me on a silver platter.
Trey stands beside me, hardly fazed by the sprint.
"You're a damn machine, Matthews," I tell him while I continue to pant.
"Face reality, Salazar. I make you a better player," he says.
"How's that?"
"Without me, who'd be around to challenge your ass?" He holds his arms out wide. "What are best friends for if not to challenge you to be your best?"
"I'm gonna bring you down if you try to run the ball," I say with a tired grin.
"That's the spirit. I dare you."
It isn't long before Dieter sets us up for drills and the cheerleaders on the sidelines abandon their practice and start cheering us on. For a split second I pretend that Monika is cheering me on, that she's my girlfriend.
I'm on the defensive line now, my focus on the offensive lineman David Colton. Out of the corner of my eye I see Trey. It's not hard to figure out that he's going to be the ball carrier. He doesn't have a good poker face, and his hands are twitching.
We line up on the line of scrimmage and Dieter blows his whistle. In a flash, I've got Colton on the ground. Derek hands off the ball to Trey. I'm not letting him get past me.
Not this time.
I put everything I have into running after Trey. I'm right on his heels. I've got this. With a burst of power, I tackle him, flinging my entire body on top of him as I pull him down.
Yes!
I'm panting like crazy and my legs feel like butter, but I don't care. I tackled Trey, the fastest high school running back in the state of Illinois. Feels damn good.
"Take that, bro," I say the second I catch my breath.
I stand up and hold out a hand for Trey, but he doesn't take it.
"Trey, get up."
He's not doing anything.
He's not moving.
I kneel beside him to check if he's faking. "Yo, Trey! Come on, get up, man."
Did he pass out? Why isn't he moving? I'm confused and start panicking as dark thoughts race through my mind. My hands start to shake.
"Coach!" I yell, waving Dieter over. "There's somethin' wrong with Trey! Hurry!"
I don't want to touch him. I'm scared that I broke his back. I'm responsible for this. His eyes are open, but he's not conscious. He's not faking. He's passed out cold... or... I can't even think clearly right now.
"Help him!" I yell as loud as I can before my throat closes up and I'm pulled out of the way by the trainers and Dieter. "Trey, wake up," I say, choking on the words as the world closes in on me.
If I hurt my best friend... he's all I got.
The trainer kneels beside Trey and puts his head close to his helmet. "Trey, can you hear me?"
Nothing.
I feel my entire body go numb as he quickly feels for Trey's pulse.
"Call 911 now!" he calls out in a panic before gently pulling off Trey's helmet, lifting Trey's head back, and giving him CPR.
No.
I look at the ground, and it's blurry.
Everything is blurry.
I watch in horror as the trainer works on Trey, counting as he and Dieter alternate pushing on his chest and breathing into his mouth. I scan Trey's hands and feet for any sign of movement, but I don't see any.
This can't be happening. I rub my eyes, hoping that this is all a nightmare and I'll wake up. Or it's a joke that everyone is playing on me.
But it's not a joke.
And I'm not sleeping.
I back away from the crowd when I hear the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance. One thought keeps running through my head over and over again, like a chant.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
Chapter Twenty-four
MONIKA
"What's going on over there?" Bree asks as she points to commotion on the football field.
"Looks like someone is hurt," another girl says. "I wonder who it is."
"Sucks to be injured the day before the homecoming game," Bree says, then tosses her pom-poms in the air and catches them. "Right, Monika?"
"Right," I mumble as I crane my neck to see if I can catch a glimpse of who's on the ground. It's common to see a player down, so I don't freak out.
Until I see all the guys on the team take a knee.
This can't be good.
I hear an ambulance siren getting closer. Vic is standing like a statue, away from the crowd, watching the scene. I know something horrible has happened just by his stance and the shocked look on his face.
I rush out to the field, my mind racing with horrible scenarios. When I get closer, I see the number on the player's jersey.
Thirty-four.
"Trey!" His name comes out of my mouth in a pained scream.
I rush over to him, but am immediately held back by Jet and Derek. The dire, sullen looks on their faces make my heart sink and my body go still.
"Monika, you shouldn't watch," Derek says quietly as he shields me from the scene.
"What's wrong with Trey? What happened?" I cry out as I struggle against their attempts to keep me away from him. "Tell me!"
Jet hugs me in a tight grip. "They're working on him, Monika. Just calm down."
I claw at them, unable to control myself. "I don't want to calm down. Trey! Oh, God! What's going on?" Trey is lying on the ground, limp and lifeless. Someone's giving him CPR, but why?
What happened?
Suddenly Ashtyn is in my line of sight. She rushes over to me with eyes full of tears. "Oh, God!" she cries out.
"What's wrong with him?" I ask frantically as I feel hot tears streaming down my face. "Will he be okay? Tell me he'll be okay! I need you to tell me that he'll be okay, Ash." I look to Jet, my vision blurry now. "Please..."
No matter if we broke up, Trey is still a part of me. We've been together for over three years, experienced so many things together.
"He's getting help," Derek says, but those words aren't good enough.
"I need to go to him," I cry out.
Ashtyn puts her hands on either side of my face. "Monika, he's hurt."
"What happened?" I ask. I can't help but sob uncontrollably.
"He was tackled," she says, her own face showing how distraught she is. "I don't know what's going on. He's not moving."
"I need to help him. Please let me help him," I cry out. "Please."
"They're doing everything they can, honey," she says. "I don't know what's going on."
"Are you sure?" I need to have reassurances that he's going to come out of this unscathed.
"He's strong," Ash tells me. "If anyone can handle a hard hit, it's Trey."
But she doesn't say what I want to hear, what I need to hear: that he'll be okay. A part of me feels responsible for this.
An ambulance drives onto the field.
"I want to see him. Please let me see him," I cry out, barely aware that my voice sounds like a hysterical crazy person.
But they don't let me see him.
It seems like the entire team is blocking my view and telling me to calm down. I can't control the sobs coming from my mouth or the fact that I'm shaking uncontrollably. My body feels like ice.
As the ambulance drives away with Trey inside, my knees give out and I collapse on the field. Ashtyn is right next to me, along with Derek and Jet.
"Take a deep breath, Monika," Ashtyn says, her words shaky. "Come on, do it. I'll do it with you."
"Okay," I say, my voice trembling. I'm trying to catch my breath, but it's not working. I try to breathe deep with Ashtyn.
But I'm a mess right now.
I can't think straight.
I need to calm down or I'm not going to be useful to anyone. Attempting to get my emotions under control, I can't look at my friend's faces. They show too much sorrow and defeat, as if they know there's bad news and they're trying to hold it inside.
"We need to go to the hospital," I tell them, debilitating panic bubbling right below the surface. "Right now."
"I'll carry her," Jet says, but I shoo him away.
"I got this."
I get up and see that Victor is standing by the goal line. He strips off his jersey and pads, leaving them on the field.
"Vic!" Ashtyn calls out. "We're going to the hospital. Come with us."
He turns away as if he doesn't hear her, then runs off.
Jet cups his hands around his mouth. "Yo, Vic!" he yells.
"I'll bet he blames himself," Ashtyn says. "Someone's got to talk to him."
"Take Monika to the hospital," Derek instructs. "We'll meet you there."
Derek and Jet run after Vic. It's chaotic and confusing at the same time. I don't know what to do or think. Our friends don't know Trey and I broke up and they don't know he'd been taking drugs. Too many thoughts are running through my head. Did the pills have something to do with this? Should I break my promise and tell someone about them?
When we get to the hospital fifteen minutes later, I rush inside the emergency room. "Where's Trey?" I ask the coaching staff, who are all waiting in the lobby. "Is he okay?"
