Page 97 of These Wicked Games
An ACL tear.“They don’t think he’s going to play again, at least not for a while—maybe never. He needs surgery, and I haven’t been able to see him yet. The doctor just came in and said he’s asleep.”
“We can sit here for a while. You should probably get some—”
“No.” Atlas looks down at the floor. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Are you friendsof Greyson?” We look up, seeing a doctor come toward us. Oli nods, standing.
“How is he doing?” Oli asks.
“Can I see him?” Atlas pleads. I loop my arm with his, offering him some support. “Is he awake?”
She looks uncomfortable, then slides her eyes to Oli. “Mr. Tremblay has asked everyone to go home. I just came out to tell you guys.”
“Go home? Fuck that, I’m not—”
“He’s not up for visitors. He’s just asked if you guys could go home. Get some sleep. He’ll take visitors when he’s ready.”
“Fuck that. I’m not leaving him here—”
“Atlas—”
“No, fuck that, Oli! If this were Andre, you wouldn’t just go home!” he snaps. I see it then, and I don’t know why I never saw it before. It’s as if everything that’s ever happened between us all just clicks into place. Atlas, he’s . . . I think he’s in—“No, don’t. I’m not leaving.”
She sighs, looking at her clipboard. “Mr. Tremblay—”
“His name is Grey!” he shouts. “And he’s my best fucking friend, and I’m not leaving here!”
“He said . . .” she continues, unbothered. “If the stubborn shithead with the black hair and blue eyes gives you any problems, remind him of the promise he made to me.”
His face drops. “Oh, that’s not fucking fair!” he grumbles. “Ohhh,I hate him!” His fingers clench into fists at his sides. He’s acting like a child right now.
“Come on, let’s go back to our hotel, okay? You can stay with us.” I squeeze his arm, trying todistract him.
“Fine!” Atlas’s lips purse. “But I get to sleep in the middle of both of you!”
“We have two beds,” Oli whispers.
I shake my head, just happy he’s listening, but also curious about what this promise is between them.
“You can sleep with me, Atlas. Andre snores.”
“Fuck you, I don’t snore. Careful Atlas, he’ll drool all over your pillow. You’re going to have to wring that bitch out in the morning.”
“Fuck off, you love it when I drool all over you,” Oli smirks.
“Gentlemen.” The doctor blinks. “All of you get the fuck out of my hospital.” She beams. “Please. We’ll update you all tomorrow.”
I nearly black out the second my head hits the pillow. It takes everything in me to stay awake while Atlas alternates between crying and raging, snuggled between us. “What did you promise Grey?”
“It’s nothing, Oli.”
“Oh, well, sorry, forgot you’re the only one allowed to have secrets.
Atlas rolls over to face me. It’s dark for the most part, and I can only faintly make out his features in my bed. “It’s nothing. Okay?” Atlas’s head rests on my shoulder. “He’s like a million degrees. How do you sleep withhim?” he whines.
“Again . . .” Oli says from the other side of the bed. “There are two beds here!”
“You know I like to be cuddled when I’m sad!” Atlas is quiet, and I think he’s blissfully fallen asleep before he opens his mouth. “What if he can’t play anymore?”
