Page 145 of The Hot Shot
I find Coach Calhoun waiting for me.
“You hear about Ryder?” he asks without preamble.
“Charlie told me.”
He nods, the relief in his eyes clear. “We need to talk about a few things. Got a minute?”
It’s not really a question, just Calhoun’s way of being polite, which is rare in and of itself.
“I was planning to go see Jake.”
“He’s under sedation.”
“That’s good. He needs the rest. Still plan to go.”
“Nobody but family is getting in to see him tonight.”
“I’ll get in.”
His eyes narrow. “We’ve hired guards to keep everyone out. You’re not getting in.”
Our stare stretches. It’s a delicate thing, saying no to your coach. If you don’t have a good reason for it, you’re accused of not being a team player. Management does not find that amusing. Press gets wind that you’re being uncooperative—somehow, they always find out—and suddenly there’s talk of “problems” between the player and the coaching staff.
Politics suck. But there’s also respect. I respect the hell out of my coach. Enough that I can wait a few minutes more to go see Jake.
I let out a silent sigh. “Your office?”
Appeased, he relaxes, too. “Won’t take too long.”
I haven’t taken a step when my phone rings. I reach to turn it off, but it’s Chess’s ringtone. Until now, I haven’t let myself think of her; it’s hard enough worrying about Jake. But the wall is crumbling. I need to hear her voice, to see her. Hell, I needher.
Calhoun shoots me a glance, as Cyndi Lauper’sGooniessong plays on. Gritting my teeth, I ignore the call. It feels fundamentally wrong to do it. But twenty minutes isn’t going to kill either one of us. Twenty minutes, I promise myself.
We’re almost at Coach’s office when Chess calls again.Hell.
“You ever heard of turning that thing off, Mannus?”
He’s one to talk. Gossip has it Calhoun brings his into the shower with him.
“Give me a second.” I pull the phone from my pocket. “I’ll tell them I’m in a meeting.”
The second I answer, I know something is wrong. It isn’t Chess’s voice coming at me in a rush. It’s James’s. “Thank fuck you finally answered.”
“What’s wrong? Why are you using Chess’s phone?”
“Chess is hurt. She’s in the hospital...”
Had I felt panic with Jake? That was nothing to this. Everything stops. Black spots dance before my eyes. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.
This isn’t fear. This is terror.
“Mannus? You there?”
“What hospital?” I manage.
James gives me the name and then takes an audible breath. “She’s okay. Just... I think she’d want you here when she wakes up.”
Wakes up?
