Page 106 of Puck Block

The buzzer is about to sound, so I swing my attention to Taytum in hopes that it can give me some type of silent indication that she’s okay, but seeing her unravels me instead. Her light hair is a curtain covering her face as she holds her phone in her hand. It sends a flood of relief into my bones, butthen Claire looks to Taytum’s phone, and her jaw slacks. She bends quickly and pops back up with Taytum’s insulin pen.

Is she okay?

“Ford!”

My name breaks the dam of silence, and the roaring crowd floods back in. I turn in panic because the game has started, but within a split second, I’m paralyzed with shock.

Oxygen vanishes from my lungs, and my helmet glides through the air as we both soar over the ice. I land like an avalanche, and I know I should shield my head without the protection of my helmet, but I’m a little too late.

[ 49 ]

TAYTUM

I wincewhen I press the pen into my stomach and breathe out of my nose slowly. It’s the best place for me to insert it, but the skin is becoming tender, and I have the brief thought that maybe a pumpwouldbe better–if it wasn’t thousands of dollars.

“Oh no.”

I turn toward Claire. “What?”

There’s a wave of concern that travels amongst the hockey fans, and my resolve falls when I follow their line of sight.

Number twenty-two is sprawled across the ice, and my heart is right there with him. My hand flies to my mouth, and everything slows around me. Claire says something to me, and Riley rushes to the glass to get a better view, but I stay rooted in place with my insulin pen in my hand.

Ford.

He isn’t moving.

My skin crawls.

I drop everything and make a beeline for the opening to the ice. The only thing I hear is my pounding heartbeat, and the only thing I see is Ford lying on the ice, motionless, with his helmetfeet away and his stick nowhere to be found. I’m running as fast as I can, but he still seems so far away.

My foot touches the ice, and suddenly, arms are around my waist, jerking me backward. “Taytum, no. You can’t go out there!” I try to peel Aasher’s hands off my body, but he’s too steady on the ice, and his hold on me is too strong.

“Let me go,” I plead. “He isn’t moving!”

He puts my feet back on stable ground and blocks the opening. A few more hockey players skate up to help him, but their backs are to me as they watch a stretcher move toward Ford.

Aasher looks me dead in the eye, and there’s remorse there. “I know, but you have to stay back.”

“Aasher!” I’m shouting through the panic, and my stomach clenches with nausea. “Please!”Why isn’t he moving?

“Taytum!” Emory skates over to me in his goalie gear and pulls off his helmet. “Go to the hospital. Now.”

“Is he going to be okay?” I look past his wide shoulders to get a better look. I’m paralyzed with fear, and it hurts to breathe. Ford is on the stretcher, and they’re taking him down the tunnel, out of my sight.

I don’t wait another second for Emory to answer me. I turn and race up the stairs where Claire is waiting with her keys and my purse.

“Let’s go.” She grabs onto my hand and drags me down the emptying hall. I hear the sportscasters on the TVs talking about Ford and how he was still unconscious when they placed him onto the stretcher. Sirens blare when we make it outside, and I watch in terror as the ambulance races by.

“Claire,” I choke, catching her eye.

“It’s going to be fine. Get in.”

My door isn’t even closed, and Claire is pressing her car’s accelerator to the floor.

I press back into the seat and realize pretty quickly how daunting it is to care so deeply about someone, knowing just how fragile life can truly be.

I’m frantic.

---