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The doctor cleared his throat, and I blinked at him, not really paying him any attention because I was flying higher than a fucking kite. Or maybe a bird. Or maybe Superman. Couldhefly high? I shrugged as an answer to myself. I thought I saw the doctor frown, though I wasn’t sure.
“We can’t answer that question right away,” the doctor said. He sounded bored. “What you have is a grade three sprain and it’s a complete tear. We need to get you into surgery tomorrow morning to repair your ACL. We will need to take a substitute graft made of tendon to—”
“Tomorrow?” Joseph interrupted. “Don’t you have to wait for ACL surgery?”
“Normally, yes. Generally, the best time frame would be over three weeks. Sometimes four to eight, but Wystan is a high-performance athlete, and I’ve had an extensive discussion with his team’s physical therapist and doctor. We decided to do the surgery. With proper rehabilitation, the chances of arthrofibrosis are low.” The doctor cleared his throat again. Did he need a glass of water? “There is always a possibility of stiffness in his knee, but Wystan will work with one of the best sports physical therapists I know to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Even so, that’sveryearly,” Joseph grunted out, and he actually sounded worried. Should I be, too? I was feeling too good to be concerned about anything.
“I understand your reservations. Wystan is very young, and he’ll bounce back quicker than someone my age with the right care. Trust me. As I said, since we discovered the injury, I’ve been talking to the team’s doctor, physical therapist, trainer, and coaches for hours. We believe this is the best option, if he wants to get back into hockey as quickly as he can. The sooner, the better. And the PT can evaluate any issues and help Wystan with all the required exercises.”
Mom frowned. “If you think it’s for the best, you have my permission. What do you—”
I closed my eyes again and let their words filter out of my brain. My body ached, but not in pain. There was a low throbbing in my chest, like I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t placewhatit was. The meds took away the worry, and I enjoyed the sense of freedom from my thoughts. For the moment, my brain was quiet. Except, there wasoneperson on my mind.
“Mom, where’s Atlas?” I opened my eyes, taking stock of the people in the room again, or lack thereof. Mom and Joseph both sat in seats beside my bed—Joseph slouched down in his chair with his eyes closed, a soft snore coming from him—and the doctors were gone. When did they leave? But there was no Atlas. “I want him.” I squinted at her. “I want him in here with me.”
Mom sucked in a deep breath and shuffled closer. She smoothed her hand over my cheek and shushed me quietly. “Sweetie, Atlas is at home. It’s almost two in the morning.”
Was it? I blinked at her. How much time had passed since the game? Had I fallen asleep when I’d closed my eyes? I couldn’t really remember what had happened. One moment I was playing, the next I was in substantial amounts of agony. Everything had centered on the pain in my knee and my vision had short-circuited. I was in and out of consciousness until I woke fully in this bed feeling floaty.
“I want to see him.” I nodded. “Or talk to him. Can we call him?”
Mom hesitated and her attention cut to Joseph and back again.
“Wait. If it’s two in the morning, did you just get here? Where did the doctors go?” I was so damned confused, and an ache had begun in my knee again. The meds were wearing off and my mind was a fuzzy mess. I winced and took a deep breath.
“Are you in pain, baby?” She rubbed my wrist. “Do you want me to call the nurses to give you more meds?”
I nodded. As much as I’d always grimaced at the thought of taking pills for pain because I’d heard too many horror stories, the ache was unbearable, and the worse it got, the more it robbed me of my breath. Mom rushed to her feet and left the room, and I settled back on the bed. I must’ve fallen asleep again because when I opened my eyes, a nurse was at my IV, injecting something from a syringe into the tube.
“Will it take the edge off?” I whispered.
She offered me a sweet smile and patted me on the arm. “It should, sweetheart.”
I settled back and took a deep breath. Mom must’ve seen something in my eyes because she was on the other side of the bed, passing me my phone that she’d collected from a cabinet beside my head. I hadn’t even realized it was there.
“The team sends their love.” She brushed her hand over my forehead, and I leaned up into her comforting touch. I couldn’t gather a smile for her because everything had begun to hurt again, and I wasn’t sure if I could force myself to breathe, let alone pretend everything was okay.
I unlocked my cracked phone and read through the text messages.
Thane: Are you all right? Fuck, of course you’re not. I’ll be there as soon as I’m allowed to visit.
Boss: Dude, shit, that was a hit you took. Keep us up to date. We’ve got you in our thoughts.
Maverick: Ope. You all good, bro?
The messages kept going, but there was onlyonefrom Atlas. For some weird fucking reason, that disappointed me. He hadn’t come with his dad to visit me, either, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Didn’t he care? Why didIcare if he came to see me?
Who was I kidding? Whatever we were doing was fun, but it was more than that. I’d learned things about Atlas that he hadn’t meant for me to see, and I liked him. When he wasn’t afraid of his dad, he was a stellar athlete and a pretty awesome guy.
I groaned. Maybe I was still fucking high because I couldn’t be thinking this. It was stupid. I was stupid.
I flopped back onto the bed and winced as fiery pain licked at my knee and up my leg. If I closed my eyes just enough, I hoped I could try to will it all away as a bad dream. I did fall asleep again at some point because when I woke, my brain was back to feeling floaty. I didn’t know what time it was, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the sun peeking through the bottom of the windowsill, threads of light weaving their way across the floor and reaching for the bed.
Mom and Joseph were still here, curled up on their seats in awkward positions. Mom hummed when I straightened slightly to lean over and tap her. She blinked blearily at me. “You’re awake, baby?”
“Yeah.” My words sounded muffled and I licked my dry lips. The fog flooding my mind was thick and I couldn’t make sense of the room, even though I knew where I was and why. I rubbed my sore eyes and yawned. “Mom, where’s Atlas?”
