Page 83 of Staying Selfless

I roll my eyes so much so that I’m surprised they even come back around. ”Holy shit, I’m not just some fan. Let me in.”

“Wes!” I hear Eli yell in the distance. “If that’s Logan, you better fucking let her in!”

“Yeah, Wes.” My tone is smug. “Let me in.”

He keeps his lips in a hard-pressed line with his arms still pretentiously crossed at his chest as he steps out of the way for me.

I blow past him, following the direction of where I heard Eli’s voice coming from, eventually finding my guy up on a trainer’s table getting his skate removed by an older, more qualified-looking gentleman than little Wes back there.

“Hi,” Eli calmly says to me, but I can see the sadness in his eyes.

“Hi.” I attempt to keep the forced smile on my face as I watch him wince in pain once his skate is removed.

“Does that hurt?” The team doctor presses down on the area close to his ankle.

Eli’s eyes close in pain as his face scrunches up, trying to keep the unbearable sounds contained. “Fuck yeah, that hurts.”

I stay a couple of feet back from the training table as I watch the doctor rotate his ankle before pushing the balls of his feet towards him, but Eli’s face is unable to hide the evident pain it’s causing.

“I can’t quite tell if it’s just a sprain that’s more sensitive from your old injury,” the doctor says, “or if there’s something more serious going on. We need to get you to the hospital for an MRI.”

Of course, it’s the same ankle.

“I’m almost certain you have a concussion, though.” He closely examines Eli’s pupils. “Wes, go pull up the van.”

“No,” Eli interrupts “Logan will take me.”

“Fine. But make sure they send me your test results. I’ll get you a wheelchair.”

“Fuck no,” Eli argues. “I don’t need a wheelchair. Just help me out to the car.”

“I’ll bring Marc’s Jeep around,” I tell him. “Which hospital?”

“Memorial.”

When I reach the parking lot, the early February chill hits me, reminding me that I left my coat on my seat in the arena. I take Marc’s keys and push the horn button, finding it parked in the back of the lot.

I grab my phone, dialing Ali, as I continue my jog to Marc’s car.

“Hey.” Her tone is frantic as she answers on the first ring. I can hear the game still going on in the background. I don’t know how much time is left, but I need to get Eli in the car before all these fans spill out from the arena and see him.

“I need you to run back to the dorms and get your car so that you can drive Marc and his parents to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” she asks in shock.

“Yeah. Eli needs an MRI. Memorial Hospital.”

“You want me to take Marc’s parents to the hospital to see Maddison?” she whispers, her tone full of skepticism.

“Yes, Ali. Please, I need you to do this.”

She stays silent on the other end.

“Ali, do this as Marc’s friend. Please,” I beg. “This isn’t some grand gesture if that’s what you’re thinking.” She stays quiet. “If you can’t do it, at least give him your keys.”

I love Ali, but the closer she and Marc get to being in a relationship, the more she overthinks everything as she tries to self-sabotage. I would typically talk her off the edge of over-analyzing, but I don’t have time today.

“I can do it,” she says with confidence.

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