Page 148 of Nothing Like the Movies

I wanted to tell him.

I wanted to shout the words I should’ve already saidsobadly as I gripped the net and waited to see any sign that he was going to be fine. I needed to see his face, to see his smile, because my brain was only showing me the unhappy look we’d exchanged a few minutes ago.

There will never be anyone for me but you, Wes, so you need to be okay.

“Liz.”

I looked to my right and Clark was jogging toward me, and when he reached my side, he wrapped his huge arms around me. “He’s gonna be okay, Lizard.”

“Is he?” I said, crying into his shirt before quickly pulling away to go back to watching the field. “Because he still hasn’t moved.”

“At least he’s awake, though,” Clark said. “That’s the—”

“Heis?” I put my hand over my heart, scared to believe him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said, nodding. “I think they’re being super careful with him in case he’s got broken ribs or something.”

Broken ribs.

Just as Clark said that, Wes slowly sat up.

“Oh, thankGod,” I whispered, wiping at the tears that were obstructing my view. Relief flooded me as Ross and another coach helped Wes to his feet, but his face didn’t look right. He looked out of it, and he looked like he was in pain as the coaches helped him off the field.

I stood there in shock for a few minutes, as the fans clapped for him and the scrimmage started up again, but then I couldn’t wait anymore.

I needed to get to him.

“Come on,” I said, pointing in Wes’s direction. “He’s not okay.”

“Liz!”

Lilith grabbed my sleeve—I hadn’t even registered she was standing next to me.

“Listen,” she said, leaning closer and lowering her voice, looking around to make sure no one else could hear. “They’re taking Wes by ambulance to Ronald Reagan. Ross thinks he’s okay, but they want to get some X-rays and stuff to rule out broken ribs or a punctured lung.”

“Is that a possibility?” I asked, feeling a little lightheaded.By ambulance.

Punctured lung.

I heard sirens in the distance and felt nauseous.

Dear God, please let him be okay.

“He throws ninety-mile-an-hour pitches, so it’s definitely possible,” she said, reaching out to take the camera from my hands. “Clark, I need you to drive Liz to the hospital. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” He looked down at me and smiled softly.

Lilith was giving me such a motherly stare that the tears were instantly back. I swallowed and said, “Thank you.”

Clark and I started jogging toward the car, but just before I opened the door, I heard Lilith yell, “Go get him, Buxbaum.”

When Clark finally pulled up in front of the ER entrance, I threw open the door and ran inside.

“I’m gonna go park,” he yelled out the window. “I’ll find you when I get inside.”

But when I went in, the woman at the desk wouldn’t tell me anything and wouldn’t let me go through the locked doors that led to Wes because I wasn’t family.

Even when I begged.

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