Page 65 of Faking the Play

“Everything looks good,” Dr. Chin said finally. “We’ll want to do a couple more tests before we discharge you, but I’m happy with the progress.”

I folded my arms, wincing as the movement pressed my back against the bed in a new way. “That’s good, but can you tell me what the hell actually happened?”

“What do you remember?” Ethan asked.

“I got hit from behind. My legs went numb.” I frowned as I thought. “Then it’s all bits and pieces. People shouting. Someone asking me questions. Then I think I was in an ambulance.” I started to run my hand through my hair and grimaced when a jerk to my hand reminded me I had an IV in. “I don’t really remember anything after that.”

“That asshole from the other team was gonna get kicked out because of what he did to Logan,” Ethan said with a scowl. “He saw you talking to the ref and went after you. His helmet hit you right in the middle of your back.”

“You were given medication in the ambulance,” Dr. Chin said. “That’s why your memories aren’t clear. The additional medicine you were given caused you to sleep for the past few hours.”

“My legs went numb because he hit my back,” I said. “But I can move my toes and feel shit, so I’m not gonna be paralyzed?”

My question sounded a hell of a lot calmer out loud than it had in my head.

“I don’t like giving certainties,” Dr. Chin said, “because strange things happen, but I would say that I’m as confident of your full recovery as I am of anything.”

That was good, but I wanted something more specific. “Why does my back hurt?”

“You have a rather large contusion on your back,” Dr. Chin explained. “It is a rather deep bruise, and that’s what caused the numbness in your legs initially. There was some swelling, which is why we gave you medication to reduce that. We’ll do some tests to make sure that’s gone down and that it wasn’t hiding an additional injury, but as long as that’s clear, you should be cleared to return to normal activities in a day or two.”

“I can keep playing football?”

That damn heart monitor betrayed how nervous I was, but I didn’t really care, not when my entire future hung on what the doctor said.

Dr. Chin raised an eyebrow. “As a doctor, I can’t in all good conscience encourage you to continue playing a game with that many physical risks, but I can say that, yes, barring any changes in your condition, you would be cleared to play again.”

I swallowed hard, nodding because I didn’t think I could speak. My chest felt tight enough that if I hadn’t been able to hear that steady beep-beep-beep on the monitor, I might’ve thought I was having a heart attack.

“Coach is gonna be glad to hear that,” Ethan said, smiling for the first time since I woke up. “He sent everyone home like an hour ago, but told me to text him as soon as I heard something.”

“I hope he’s that worried about me too.”

It wasn’t until Logan’s voice came from the other side of the curtain that I realized someone else was even in the room. Ethan pulled the curtain back, and all the happiness I’d felt at my news evaporated when I saw Logan.

Like me, he was hooked up to monitors, and I was sure I looked like shit too, but it was the leg that had my stomach sinking. He had all sorts of braces and shit clearly meant to keep it from moving, and I knew that was never a good sign.

“About time you woke up,” Ethan said. “You’ve been out of surgery for half an hour.”

“Surgery?”

“Let’s get you something to drink,” Dr. Chin said, moving from my bed to my friend’s. “Then we can talk privately about your condition.”

Logan shook his head even as he took the water from the doctor. “We’re family. And roommates, so if they’re going to have to help me shower or wipe my ass, they should probably know it now.”

“You should be fine in the ass-wiping department,” Dr. Chin said dryly. “As for showering, that’s going to be a no-go for a while. Sponge baths only.”

“Do you rent nurses for that?”

The fact that Logan was making jokes scared the shit out of me. Ethan was the one who used humor as a shield. Logan faced things head-on.

“Do you want me to sugarcoat things or tell it to you straight?” Dr. Chin asked after he’d done the basic check on Logan’s vitals.

“I’d rather have it all,” Logan said, visibly steeling himself.

“You cracked three bones in your ankle,” the doctor began. “We put in two metal pins for that. You also tore several muscles and tendons between your knee and your ankle. And your ACL was pretty much destroyed. We did the best we could, but there’s a lot of damage.”

“Long-term prognosis?” Logan asked quietly.

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