Page 32 of Game Face

My dad gets up from the bed, but my mom stays at my side. My gaze flickers between them as best I can without moving my head. I’m locked down.

“Guys, I’ll update you out there. Sarah, if you can wait for Wyatt to show up and tell him I’ll come get him in a few?”

My aunt nods at my father’s request, then tells my uncle to hold on as she mutes the phone and steps over to me to give me another awkward hug where she basically just hovers over my body.

“You got this, honey.” She’s using her tough voice, probably to make sure I believe her. But do I? Do I got this? What the hell even isthis?

In my mind, I nod. I think I smile, maybe.

“Jason’s on his way, too,” she adds as she leaves the room.

“Great,” I utter when she’s out of earshot. My mom chuckles. I definitely said that out loud.

“Hi, Peyton. I’m Dr. Klazmeric. We met earlier but you weren’t really down for remembering names and stuff, so I figured we’d do this part again.” He’s young, maybe in histhirties. Young for a man in charge of making my limbs feel stuff again. Or maybe he’s not. What do I know?

“Thanks for setting me up with this cool choker,” I joke, doing my best to glance down at the surgical collar around my neck. His face tightens into a quick smile, and he nods with a short laugh.

“What can I say? I have the best jewelry,” he jokes back.

I like him.

“All right, so . . . what we’re looking at here, it’s not impossible. It’s tricky. And I don’t want to make any false promises or distort the truth with any of you, especially you, Peyton.” He makes eye contact with me, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of his dark-rimmed glasses.

My God.

I swallow at the sight but force another smile.

“I appreciate the straight shooting, doc.”

“We all do,” my mom adds. She shifts next to me, the bed moving a little with her weight, and I take a sharp breath.

“You should maybe use a chair for now,” the doctor suggests, moving to the corner of the room and dragging an armchair to the bedside for my mom. She moves into it quickly then whispers to me, “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t really hurt, but it did make me nervous. And maybe I simply wanted some space.

“I’d like to get her in for surgery as soon as possible. She won’t be under long for the diagnostic. Maybe two hours. But it’s best for spinal cord injuries if we go in with a solid plan. We want to get a good look at what we’re dealing with. We have some of the best spine and brain surgeons in the country here, and she’ll have a team of us looking after her.”

My mom looks to me and I give her a nervous, close-lipped smile.

“Okay,” my mom lets out with a sigh. “How soon?”

“A few hours at the most,” he says, and both of my parents stifle their gasps at his response.

So soon.

Not soon enough.

“So, we’re sure it’s her spinal cord?” My dad’s voice wavers, and it’s unlike him to show nerves. It makes my belly tighten, and I hear from the machine incessantly clocking my pulse to my right that it’s amped up my heart rate.

“The scans all point to her fifth vertebrae. We’re just not sure how bad the fracture is. And she has some severe swelling. That’s likely why you’re having a hard time feeling things on your right side. But we’ll know more after we take a look.”

“Am I . . .” I stop, swallowing the sandpaper that’s instantly coated my throat. My eyes are burning with impending tears, so I breathe in slowly through my nose to hold them at bay. “Am I going to be able to walk?”

Dr. Klazmeric is quick to smile, and it honestly might be the first taste of hope I’ve had since I hit the turf hours ago.

“I don’t want make guesses, but from everything I’ve seen on the scans, and the resources available, I have every reason to believe in two or three years you’ll be walking again.”

My lips quiver, and I can’t hold them up to fake it. Neither can my dad, who looks as if he was just sucker punched. Probably because he was.

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