Page 5 of If Everything Was Easy

“Don’t move,” she ordered. “An ambulance is on the way.”

“What?” I gasped and that’s when the pain came back. My entire left leg was screaming in agony, and when I tried to move it, nothing happened.

“You’ve had a break. We need to get you to the hospital. Just try to relax,” Coach soothed.

I lay back down and glanced at the sky. The sun was behind the clouds, and the breeze had stopped. Was she seeing this? “We need to keep playing.” I groaned as the pain seemed to increase.

“You’re not playing anymore today. Honey, I don’t think you’re going to walk today.” Coach had this look of pity on her face. It was then that the team parted and paramedics went to work.

As I was loaded onto a stretcher, the crowd began booing. Apparently they weren’t happy that the player who tripped me wasn’t given a card. Coach squeezed my hand before looking over at the team. “We’re going to get a penalty kick. We need to make this for Ava.” The girls nodded, and rushed back to the game. “I’ll be by later to check on you,” she called as I was rolled away.

As they were loading me into the ambulance, Dad and Madi appeared. Dad climbed in as Madi shouted that she’d drive the car and meet us there.

“What’s going on?” I mumbled. I think the paramedics had given me something for the pain because everything was suddenly fuzzy.

“You did a number on your leg.” Dad sighed.

“What do you mean?” I attempted to lift my head to see, but it felt extremely heavy.

“Pretty sure it’s broken.” Dad smiled tightly and squeezed my hand. “You’ll be ok. Bones heal.” He chuckled.

“But soccer. The pros.” I gasped. “What about soccer?”

“You’re just going to take a little break.” He smiled as he squeezed harder.

“I can’t. I can’t take a break. I’ll never make it if I take a break.” Panic set in and the monitors started going crazy.

“You have to calm down.” The paramedic started to prepare a sedative. “We’re almost there. I’m sure your doctor can give you more information.”

Within minutes, we came to a stop. Dad jumped out and as they wheeled me into the emergency room, the paramedics rambled off my vitals. It was then that I realized I couldn’t feel my foot.

The doctors went to work checking me out. The last thing I heard before passing out was, “No radial pulse.” That had to be bad, right?

Chapter 4

Ava

I could hear the beeping— it was faint, but present. My eyelids were heavy, but I forced them open. I blinked against the harsh light. My head didn’t want to move as I attempted to look around. There was a window to my left, and Dad was sitting in a chair in the corner. “What’s going on?” I forced the words out. My throat was scratchy.

Dad groaned as he stretched and sat up. “What do you remember?” He moved closer and squeezed my hand.

“Falling at the game.” Flashes started to come back and I attempted to sit up. That’s when the pain came back. My leg throbbed as pain shot up from my knee into my hip. My eyes darted down to see a giant cast encasing my entire leg. “Oh god.” I groaned as I balled the sheets in my hands.

“You have a broken femur.” Dad sounded so emotionless.

“They put pins in your leg to hold the pieces together. It’s broken in two places.”

“How long till I can play?” I could feel the tears coming and I forced them back. I swallowed and stared Dad in the eyes. “How long?”

“It’ll be three months before you’re out of the cast, then you’ll have therapy for another twelve weeks.” He squeezed my hand again before leaning back in the chair.

“That’s the rest of the season.” I attempted to blink the tears away, but I couldn’t. One by one they spilled down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Dad sighed.

“Sorry!” Anger came rushing to the forefront. “How can you be sorry? You have no idea what this is going to do to me! I am soccer! Without it, I’m nothing!” I picked up the empty water pitcher on the tray beside me and heaved it toward the wall.

“Ava!” The tone he only used when he meant business came cutting through the air. My eyes snapped to his and I felt like I was five again. He sighed as he leaned closer. “We’ll get through this and you’ll play again.” He leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I’m going to get some food now that you’re awake. The doctor was hoping to discharge you tonight.”

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