Page 5 of Unloved

“Excuse me, you can’t—” One of the team doctors, Randy, recognizes me. “Samuel, this isn’t the time.”

“Please,” I breathe out, exhaustion finding me quickly. I walk into the room, ignoring all eyes on me, and closer to Lennox. “He’s my boyfriend.”

The lie tumbles out of my mouth with such ease, the words full of wishful thinking.

Aware of our college’s recent campaign to ensure LGBTQ+ students are welcome and comfortable on campus, especially in sports, I know even if the team doctors wanted to push back and kick me out of the room, they’re hesitant to do so.

Not bothering to wait for a response, I slip Lennox’s limp fingers between mine, focusing on the fact that his skin is warm, and feel for his thrumming pulse.

“Sam.” His voice is panicked as I come into view, and the sound of it has my heart falling to my stomach in relief, my body shaking with adrenaline.

I glance down at him, his eyes, still filled with fear, staring back at me. “I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

His eyes widen at my words and his hand tightens in mine, forcing the moment of relief I felt only seconds ago to disappear. I store the fact that he can squeeze my hand to the back of my mind.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it,” I state, dragging my eyes up and down his body. “Is it your legs? Can you feel them?”

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Instead, his body begins to tremble, almost like his bones are rattling inside his skin. Lennox’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath.

“What’s wrong with him?” I say a little too loudly in the small room. “He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe?”

Irritated, the team medic pushes me out of the way, dislodging my hand from Lennox’s. “I’m sorry, Samuel, but if you want to be here, you need to sit on the other side of the room and keep out of the way.” Another staff member comes back into the room, one of them now at either side of Lennox’s body.

“If Lennox is having trouble breathing,” he continues, “we need to get that under control and take his helmet and shirt off safely in case he has any other injuries.”

“He squeezed my hand,” I blurt out. “He can move his hands,” I shout as I reluctantly move into the background, my view of Lennox becoming limited as I stare at the backs of all the doctors.

“Lennox. Lennox, can you look at me? Look at me and try to breathe,” Randy instructs.

“Sam,” he gasps loudly. “Where’s Sam? I need Sam.”

“I’m here,” I call out as Randy says, “He’s right here, Lennox, but I’m going to need you to try and keep still.”

I watch him flail against the backboard, proof he isn’t paralyzed, which should be a relief, but everything still seems extremely risky. Randy tries to keep him still and calm him down, but he doesn’t stop asking for me. Over and over, his voice getting louder and louder, almost like he can’t…

“He can’t hear,” I say.

The realization slips out of my lips quietly enough that it could’ve been mistaken for an internal thought. Randy and the other medic continue to try and calm Lennox down, and I know for certain now nobody has heard me.

“He can’t hear,” I say again, louder. “Stop talking to him,” I shout. “He can’t hear.”

Not caring about protocol, or anything else but Lennox, I stride to them, ensuring I’m in Lennox’s line of sight as soon as possible.

Lennox and I reach for each other’s hands at the same time. He squeezes, and I just sit and wait, breathing in and out, making an exaggerated effort to show him the rise and fall of my shoulders.

We both ignore everything around us, and eventually, he figures it out and his desperate gasps for air regulate into a steady inhale and exhale. But almost like he’s moved from one physical reaction to another, tears start to fall down the side of his face.

“Samuel,” he says, his chin trembling, his voice full of fear. “Samuel.”

Swallowing hard, I muster all my strength as my hands and fingers move of their own volition, wordlessly responding to him to show him I’m here—skating my fingers across his bloody eyebrow, wiping his tears, touching his lips, before resting my palm right above his beating heart.

I’m here.

He places his hand over mine, his water-filled eyes staring right at me. “Sammy.”

There’s been only one other time he called me Sammy, and it had caused my heart to dance and my blood to thrum. It was everything this moment wasn’t.

“Sammy,” he says again, his voice a little more steady. “I don’t think…” He momentarily squeezes his eyes shut before looking at me again. “Sammy, I can’t hear anything.”

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