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I hear the whistle and then my field of vision is filled with Jack’'s face.
"Fuck. Are you okay?"
I don't know exactly what happened, but I don't think I'm okay. I become aware that my helmet is off. Which would probably explain the throbbing in my head. Clearly, I hit the back of my head on the ice. That’s not good. I'm also aware of pain in my groin. Fuck. I've had strains before and that’s what that feels like. But what the hell happened?
Justin Travers probably knows something about it.
I’m going to kill that fucker.
One of our trainers, Eli, and our assistant coach, Owen Phillips, join Jack as other players gather around.
"McNeil. What's up?" Eli asks, crouching next to me.
"Did I score?"
Coach Phillips chuckles. "Nope."
I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck. I'm not blaming how I've played this week on Dani being gone. I can play well even when she's not home. I know this. But I hate that people are thinking that’s the problem. I think Nathan's thinking that’s the problem.
Then I think about the fact that Dani might have seen this injury. My mom saw the injury. My sister.
Okay, Dani and my mom are going to be more concerned than my sister. But if I smacked my head on the ice, even Luna's gonna know that's not good.
"You know where you are?" Eli asks.
"Lying on my back in the middle of the arena, looking like a dumbass. With no goals."
That all makes my head hurt even worse. And not because it hurts to think. Because the truth hurts.
Eli chuckles. "Well, he's oriented to time and place.”
"And reality," someone else says.
I don't bother thinking hard enough to try to place the voice.
"So, someone help me up," I say.
"We’re heading to the training room," Eli says. "You're out."
I want to protest but I know better. I’m fucking hurt. I probably have a concussion.
So, I’m out of the game.
With no points.
I wish Doc was here. It's not that I don't trust the other people on our medical staff. I definitely do. But Michael would be concerned, but he wouldn't baby me. He’d tell me the truth. If he pulled me out of the game, it would be for real. He wouldn't worry about being extra careful. He wouldn't worry about Nathan yelling at him for benching his best player. He wouldn't worry about me yelling at him for benching his best player. He’d do what was best for me healthwise, first. He can handle me and Nathan.
But it's the fact that I'm also his roommate, his friend, that I’m dating his girlfriend, that makes me trust he’d be extra concerned.
"Yeah," I agree with Eli. I need to get to the training room. I'm not helping the team much out here tonight anyway.
Somehow, they get me back behind the scenes. I'm aware the crowd cheers when I get upright, but other than that, I'm not really paying attention to what's going on around me. They check me over. Confirm a groin strain. That's nothing new. Annoying. I’ll have to treat it. This actually could keep me on the bench for a couple of games. But I’m not going to die.
They go through the concussion checks as well. And, no surprise, I have one.
So that's gonna definitely keep me down for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, if not longer.
"I need a second," I hear a voice say.
