Page 2 of Chasing Sunsets

With herculean effort, Zack struggled to his feet. Bent over, hands on his thighs, he spit on the ground.

Blood.

Was the blood from his mouth or his insides? He stared at the red-stained grass, concentrating on drawing air into his lungs.

“You okay, man?” He only saw a pair of cleats, but he recognized Dre’s voice.

Another set of cleats came into view. “Perfect pass, Zack,” Kasey said.

Good, he’d caught it.

Zack gathered his strength and tried to straighten. His chest stung like an angry hive of bees was attacking him for stealing their honey. He hunched back over and clutched his chest.

“Kneel down.” Dre used slight pressure on his shoulder.

Not needing to be told twice, Zack dropped to his hands and knees. He spit again, more blood.

“I’ll get a trainer,” Kasey murmured.

Don’t.The word didn’t make it to his mouth. His stepdad didn’t need to come out to check on him and everyone learn he and Cal were related. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe people wouldn’t eventually find out, yet he enjoyed simply being Zack for now.

“Zack!” Cal shouted from somewhere in the distance. He must’ve seen what happened from the varsity practice field.

Zack closed his eyes and collapsed face-first to the ground, helmet still on.

“Football player down at Montgomery High School.” Cal’s voice became louder. The air changed around him before his stepfather sounded close. “Zack, son, can you hear me?” He must be kneeling. “An ambulance is on the way. Where do you hurt?”

Everywhere.

Light-headed, he feared he might lose consciousness, but it was impossible with Cal’s chattering. “Why aren’t you talking? Are you awake?”

After a pause, Dre softly uttered, “He’s spitting blood, sir.”

“Blood? Shit. Zack, talk to me.”

Didn’t the man understand he couldn’t speak?

The blood and Cal’s terrified voice made his struggle to breathe worse as panic swelled in his throat.

A hand picked his up and held it like two guys pulling each other in for a hug. “Squeeze my hand,” Dre calmly instructed.

Words would never be enough to express to Dre how much Zack needed him at that moment. Weak, injured, and scared, Zack felt everything would be fine merely holding Dre’s hand. He returned the pressure as best he could.

“He’s with us, Coach,” Dre said.

“Oh, thank God. You damn well better stay with us. You need to remain awake until the paramedics arrive. Where are they? They’re taking forever.” Cal went on in an anxious voice. “They’ll probably give you great drugs for the pain...”

Zack fixated on the faint sound of sirens as they got louder, trying to block out his stepfather.

Whenever Dre squeezed his hand, Zack did the same.

Paramedics arrived and requested everyone step away. Dre clutched Zack’s hand one last time and released it. The emergency workers asked Zack if he was awake, and he moved his fingers. After examining him and getting him to move his arms and legs, they carefully flipped him onto his back and removed his helmet. When the pads were cut away from his chest, the constriction eased a bit. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Cal, his friends, other players, and coaches stood behind the paramedics.

His stepfather said, “Be careful,” every minute or so.

It felt odd having a man care about him. He’d never known his father, who died in a car accident when he was two.

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