Page 85 of Staying Selfless

“Whatever happens, we will figure it out,” I tell him with reassurance. “Together.”

He leans against his window again, but when we pull up in front of the emergency room entrance, Eli adds one more thing before either of us get out. “I love you, Logan.” His tone is sad, and I can tell that he thinks something is majorly wrong with his ankle.

“I love you too, Eli. I’m going to get you a wheelchair.”

“No, I don’t need it.”

“Eli James Maddison. I’m getting you a fucking wheelchair.”

“Shit,” he says with amusement. “Using my full name like that. Okay then, ma’am.”

“That’s right,” I try to sound stern, but I can feel my dimples popping through.

Once I get him inside, we wait for a few minutes, but it’s not long until a nurse takes him back to an exam room. I give him a quick kiss before choosing a seat in the waiting room and finally taking a deep breath.

I’m a former athlete, so injuries don’t scare me. It’s part of the game. But that second or two that Eli stayed still on the ice felt like an eternity, and I can’t get the image out of my head. Injuries don’t scare me, but the thought of losing Eli is absolutely terrifying.

A few moments later, Jack, Mary, Marc, and Ali come frantically walking through, looking around the waiting room until I stand, so they spot me.

“He’s getting an MRI. Maybe an X-ray too. I’m not sure,” I fill them in. “And the team doctor thinks he has a concussion.”

“No surprise there,” Jack sighs. “Is it his left ankle?”

I offer him an apologetic smile as I confirm that his new injury is in the same place as his old one.

“Fuck.” Marc hangs his head in defeat.

Concern covers Mary’s face. “How did he seem?”

“Honestly, he’s doing better than I thought he would, but he’s understandably frustrated.”

The five of us sit in the waiting room together in silence as we wait to find out the test results. There’s an obvious tension in the room, but it’s not directed towards anyone. It’s clear that we are all concerned for Eli’s future.

About thirty minutes into waiting, Zanders comes jogging through the entrance wearing his Ohio State tracksuit. He goes right to the front desk, not noticing us in the waiting room wearing Minnesota’s team gear.

“I’m looking for my friend,” he says to the receptionist. “Eli Maddison checked in not too long ago.”

“Zanders.” Marc stands, gaining the defenseman’s attention.

Zanders turns to find Eli’s family all staring at him.

“Hey.” Zanders awkwardly walks towards us. “The team doctor told me where they took him.”

No one here knows how they should act. Zanders spent his whole life being the hated rival of Eli, and the uncomfortable stares shared between the group prove that they never thought the day would come when the boys would refer to each other as ‘friends.’

“I’m Logan.” I smile, standing as I hold out my hand for Zanders to shake. “Eli has told me so much about you.”

“That doesn’t sound too good.” Zanders laughs, putting his hand in mine.

“Actually, it’s all really good.” I motion to an empty chair for him to take among the rest of Eli’s family.

“How’s he doing?” Zanders takes a seat, propping his elbows on his knees.

I try to ease the blow for him with an apologetic grin. “It’s the same ankle.”

“Fuck.” Zanders’ head drops.

I can see the guilt forming on his features, knowing that he was the one who caused the first injury.

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