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Another grunt from Aaron makes us both face him as we clutch each other.
The celebration of winning has completely stopped, and a circle has formed around Aaron as we all helplessly watch our star quarterback lying helplessly on the ground.
“Give him room,” one of the coaches says as he tries to push people back from where we’re all standing.
Whispers of people trying to figure out what’s going on flutter around me, but I’m too stunned to pay them any attention.
“Let me through,” I hear Beau say.
Once he gets to me, he grabs me and wraps me in his arms, and I instantly lose it once again.
“What’s going on?” he asks Heather.
“We don’t know yet,” she responds.
He’s tall enough, so he can see over everyone that surrounds him, and his facial expression says it all.
It’s not good.
Sirens fill the silence around us, and I look out to see the red flashing lights pulling into the parking lot.
Beau runs his hand down my hair. “He’s going to be okay.”
I grip his jersey and pull him, sweaty and full of gear, closer to me, needing any type of comfort he can offer me.
My heart breaks for my friend, someone I still care about immensely even though we don’t talk as much as we used to.
Time stands completely still as we all stare in shock at the boy we cheered for just minutes ago while he lies on the ground, trying his hardest to be tough when everyone around him is crying, just seeing the pain he’s in.
The ambulance enters the field and drives directly up to where we’re all standing.
Paramedics rush out of the car, flinging the doors open and pulling the gurney out of the back before racing toward us.
“Clear the way!” Beau yells along with others. He leaves me and helps move people out of the way so the paramedics can get to Aaron.
Once they’re by his side, he comes back to me and holds me in his arms again. I gasp and burry my head in his chest when I see Aaron’s leg bone physically sticking out of his lower leg.
They give him some morphine and splint his leg before lifting him onto the stretcher.
I race to his side.
“Aaron!” I hold his hand, and his eyes meet mine.
“Pray for me,” is all he says. His hand slips from mine as they rush him back to the ambulance with his mom right by his side.
Beau is quick to catch me before I fall to the ground in fear.
“Everyone, get back to the bus,” Dad yells to the team, then turns to his assistant coach, someone we call Coach Pop. “You get the kids home. I’ll be going to the hospital.”
“You got it. Call us when you have any news,” Coach Pop responds.
He pats his back. “I will.”
“Dad, I’m coming with you!” I yell out as he runs away.
Beau doesn’t say a word, just follows along with me.
“Hurry up then.” Dad motions for us.
