The Understatement of the Year

by Sarina Bowen

  “I’ll be right back, Sweetie,” Bella whispered. She lifted Graham’s hand and gave his palm the same kiss that I would have liked to give it. Then she patted his arm, and she and I followed Coach the short distance into the waiting room. “If he has to stay, I can drive him back in the morning,” Bella offered in a shaky voice. I’d never seen her so rattled.

  Coach put a hand on her shoulder. “I was just going to ask if you could do that, honey.”

  “Is Rikker here?” came from the back.

  Oh, fuck.

  “What the hell?” Hartley asked, wandering up to us. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s confused,” I said, feeling sweat begin to coat my back. “Really confused. It’s a concussion. Maybe he thinks we all just left him here.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Hartley said, maneuvering around us towards the back.

  “That would be great,” I said, relaxing a little.

  “So, Bella needs a car and a hotel room,” Coach said, pulling out his phone. “We’ll set that up. Then I’ll speak to the doctor again. And when we’re sure that he’s okay, the rest of us can head out.”

  Most of my teammates were milling around the waiting room now. “I saw some vending machines by the front door,” Orson said. “Anybody want to spot me a dollar?”

  “What happened to Rikker?” came from the exam room.

  Fuck. There he went again. My neck got hot, and I began sending some very desperate thoughts back in Graham’s direction. For the love of all that’s holy, please stop asking for me.

  Big-D was rifling through his wallet, looking for singles for the vending machine. “What’s up with him?” he asked. “He must be really out of his mind if he’s looking for the team homo.”

  At that, my blood pressure spiked. And then it spiked again, because Graham picked that moment to call, “Rikker!”

  I took a deep breath in through my nose. “Maybe he was trying to pass me the puck before he got clonked. He wants to know if the pass was complete.”

  Bella gave me a skittish look that implied that I should probably just shut up now.

  Hartley emerged from the back, a startled look on his face. “Shit, he is confused. He doesn’t know why we’re at a hospital.”

  Coach nodded, tapping on his phone. “I know it’s a little creepy, but it always goes away. Tomorrow he’ll make more sense.”

  “…And he really wants to talk to Rikker,” Hartley finished with a shrug. “Like, he doesn’t know he just talked to you five minutes ago.”

  “Weird,” I said, sweating.

  “Rikker!”

  With too many sets of eyes on me, I turned and hustled toward the back. When I stepped into Graham’s room again, his face went right to relief. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Of course I am, G.”

  “They didn’t get you?”

  I shook my head. “You’re the only one who’s hurt,” I said carefully. There was something about the way he kept worrying about me that just didn’t make sense. If I could figure out what it was, maybe he’d stop yelling my name.

  “How did I get hurt?”

  “You got knocked down in the hockey game against Central Mass.” I sat down on the plastic chair on the wall at the head of his bed. “Everything is going to be fine, G.” I checked to be sure that we were completely alone before reaching over to give his shoulder a little squeeze. “Seriously, just relax.”

  “We’re at the hospital?” Graham asked.

  Jesus. “Yes, G. We are at the hospital. You got hit on the head. But you’re going to be okay.” I yawned like a lion, suddenly exhausted. Graham closed his eyes, and it made me want to do the same. So I leaned back against the wall and relaxed.

  A couple of minutes later, Bella appeared in the doorway. Graham’s eyes flew open. “Where am I?” he asked her.

  “In the hospital,” she said, her face drawn with worry.

  “Where’s Rikker?” Graham asked.

  Bella’s eyes went wide, and she pointed at me.

  With great effort, Graham turned, spotting me. “Rikker are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said yet again. “Dude, why do you keep asking me that?”

  He looked frustrated. “We’re in the hospital. Did they get us both?”

  Goosebumps rose up on my arms. “Did who get us?”

  Graham’s face flushed, and his eyes got red. But he didn’t say a word.

  And now my own throat was tightening up, because I thought I understood. “G,” I whispered. “Do you think that somebody got beat up? Like in the alley?”

  His voice was scratchy, and his eyes were enormous. “Why are we at a hospital? Tell me the truth.”

  “Whoa,” I said, putting a hand on the side of his face, my thumb brushing his top lip. “No, man. It’s not like that. We’re here because of a hockey injury. Just a hockey game.”

  Those cool blue eyes measured me. I could see him trying to decide whether or not it was safe to relax.

  There was a sound in the hallway then, and I yanked my hand back just in time.

  Coach stuck his head in. “Rikker, Bella, let’s strategize.” He beckoned to us and then disappeared. I’d forgotten that Bella was even in the room with us. She stood there, frozen, staring at us.

  I looked down at Graham. “Listen. We’re at the hospital because of a hit you took in the hockey game.”

  Slowly, Graham nodded.

  “Repeat it,” I demanded. “Why are we here?”

  “The hockey game,” he said.

  “That’s right. And everyone else is fine, okay? I’m going to talk to Coach for a second. Don’t yell for me, okay? Because the whole team can hear you. And I’m right outside.”

  Grabbing a speechless Bella by the elbow, I pulled her into the waiting area.

  The doctor was giving instructions to Coach. “Two weeks at the bare minimum. But he’ll need to be evaluated then. Don’t rush it. You do not want a second concussion. The second time takes twice as long to recover.”

  Coach winced. “Okay. We’ll be conservative.”

  I was practically hopping from foot to foot, wondering how long Graham would remember what I’d just told him. But the doctor wasn’t finished with Coach.

  “Please do,” the doctor continued. “I’ve seen far too many repeat concussions in this E.R., always because a big game was coming up, and the athlete insisted he was fine. I’m going to send him home with a lot of care information. But he’ll need help making decisions. I know he’s an adult, but his parents should be involved.”

  “They will be. Thank you.” Coach turned to the whole crew. “Okay, guys. Last call for the men’s, or the soda machine. We’re going to hit the road.” Then he put a hand on Bella’s shoulder and began talking about a rental car and a hotel room.

  “Rikker!” Graham barked from the other room.

  Aw Christ. There was so much fear in his voice it was practically ripping me in two.

  Bella and Coach looked up from their conversation. Coach frowned. “Damn. I wish he was doing better already. I’ll go tell him goodbye.” He walked to the back, with Bella on his heels.

  Hartley waved me over. “You’re coming on the bus, right?”

  My mouth went dry, wondering what would happen after I left. Was Graham going to yell my name all night? And all because he thought some thugs beat me up in an alley. But if I stayed here, everyone might wonder why. Or would they? I felt utterly paranoid. I felt like Graham. “Uh, yeah,” I said to Hartley. “Unless you think Bella could use my help. She might like that. I mean… whatever makes sense, man.” I tried to sound casual, but my voice was shaking.

  Hartley just looked at me right then. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Hartley looked right through me. I could actually see the understanding blossom in his brown eyes. What followed was the most awkward silence of my life. Just a vacuum in space between my captain and I, with the guffaws of the French freshman and Big-D as background noise.

  Finally, Har
tley cleared his throat. “Would he, uh, want you stay here?”

  I looked down at the linoleum floor tiles. “I don’t fucking know. He’s not making any sense.”

  And then Big-D was standing there too, chewing peanut M&Ms and asking Hartley when they were leaving.

  “Whenever Coach says,” Hartley snapped.

  From the back, Graham yelled for me again. And Big-D’s eyes lifted toward the corridor, and I felt my whole body go tense. Please just go out to the fucking bus, asshole. Instead, he popped another candy in his mouth and locked eyes with me. “If I’m ever hit on the head hard enough to yell for the team homo, one of you will just shoot me, right? Put me out of my misery.”

  “Really?” Hartley asked, his jaw tight. “You want to do this right now, with your teammate flat out in the next room?”

  “That’s the thing, though,” Big-D said, folding his arms. “I’m just looking out for Graham. Actually, Rikker never told us whether he likes to give or receive.” He stared me down. “Which is it? If you like to be the cumbucket, maybe Graham is safe.”

  A spear of red-hot anger sliced through my chest. “Funny. You seem real eager to know what sex with me is like,” I said. “Curious, maybe?”

  His ground his teeth. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

  “Yeah? You feel like making me?” I was too stressed out to back down. “That’s your strategy, maybe. You want my hands on you any way you can get them.”

  Big-D made two fists, his face red. “Shut it, faggot.”

  Hartley jumped between us. “STOP! Both of you.”

  “Rikker!” Graham yelled. And the tension I felt was unbearable.

  Hartley pointed at me. “Stay with… Bella,” he finished. Then he jerked a thumb at Big-D. “You, on the bus. Right now.”

  Big-D gave me one last, angry stare before he turned around.

  Hartley gave me a shove toward the back, and we both went into Graham’s room.

  “There’s too many people in here,” the doctor grumbled, checking Graham’s eyes again. “You all can sit in the waiting room. Except for Rikker, because he’s going to save my eardrums.”

  “Where’s…?” Graham tried to see around the doctor.

  “Right here,” I ground out.

  “Why are we in a hospital, Rik?” he asked.

  “Uh, Hockey game, G. You took a hit on the head.”

  Bella tugged on my arm. “He’s afraid of something. Why?”

  I put my lips close to her ear. “Not now, Bella.”

  “He doesn’t want you to go,” she said, her face flushing.

  “Then I’ll sit in that fucking chair all night, okay? Now hush.” I could still feel the blood pounding in my ears. Hitting something sounded really good right about now.

  Bella took a shaky breath. Then she went over to ask Coach if I could stay with her to keep her company.

  “Sounds like a fine plan, if Rikker is willing,” Coach said.

  “Hey, no problem,” I stammered.

  The doctor finished her examination. “He’s awfully agitated,” she said, frowning. “I don’t love that. But there’s been no vomiting for an hour now.” She patted Graham on the shoulder. “Why are you so upset, buddy?”

  Coach tugged his chin. “Shit. I don’t feel like I should walk out of here.”

  “Why are we here?” Graham asked.

  I cleared my throat. “You took a hit during the hockey game,” I said for the millionth time. But then I had an idea. “Hey. Where is his stuff? Did he come in here with his helmet?”

  “Why?” the doctor asked.

  But I’d already found the door of a flimsy little closet in the corner, and yanked it open. Graham’s hockey bag was crammed inside, the helmet on top. “G, look at this,” I said, pointing to the crack. “This is why we’re here.”

  “The hockey game,” Graham said.

  “That’s right.” I handed him the helmet. “That’s the only reason.”

  Graham fingered the crack in the helmet while everyone watched.

  “Coach, just leave me here with Bella,” I said. “We’ll be fine.”

  He looked from Graham to me and then to Bella. “You can just add a room with the team card,” he said.

  “I’ll just stay in this chair,” I pointed. “Seriously. One night. We’ll leave in the morning.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m good. They’re waiting for you.”

  Still frowning, Coach patted Graham’s shin. “Stay strong, kid. And I’ll see you tomorrow when you get back.” Then he turned and left the room.

  I sagged into the plastic hospital chair, feeling the first hit of relief.

  An hour and a half later, I woke up with a start. My head lay on my crossed arms, which were propped onto Graham’s bed.

  “Sorry,” Bella said from behind me. It was her return to the room that had startled me.

  I picked up my head, untangling my stiff neck. Graham was asleep, his fingers curled into the cage of his helmet. “What time is it?”

  “Midnight. I got the rental car.”

  I yawned and stood up. “You can have the chair.”

  She shook her head. “I already asked them to bring in another one, and they said it’s against policy.” Bella rolled her eyes. “So I’m going to the hotel, unless I can talk you into going in my place.”

  “Naw. I’ll stay,” I said.

  “Thought you’d say that,” Bella said, her eyes downcast. “He wants you, anyway.” She let out another sigh, and then walked over to the head of Graham’s bed. Bending down, she barely touched her fingers to his sleeping head. “Tell me what happened, Rikker. What were you talking about before? Something happened in an alley. Graham got beaten up?”

  I shook my head. It wasn’t something I could discuss with her.

  But Bella’s laser eyes did not retreat. “Graham didn’t get beat up,” she whispered. “You did.”

  Ugh. “It was a long time ago, Bella. I’m over it.”

  “But he isn’t,” she whispered.

  Chivalry be damned, I sat back down in my chair. “I guess not,” I agreed with her in a low voice. “I didn’t really know that until tonight.”

  “Was it bad? Must’ve been, if the hospital is freaking him out.”

  I didn’t really know what to make of that, since Graham hadn’t even come to the hospital with me. And I didn’t remember it so well, to be fair. “I got through it,” I said, not wanting to go into specifics. “But maybe that’s why I’m over it, you know? I dealt with the injuries. They sucked, but it’s done with.”

  Bella looked down at my sleeping boyfriend. “But he’s still duking it out, isn’t he? The hardest-hitting defenseman we have. Trying to intimidate the other team, night after night.” Her eyes never left Graham, even as she spoke to me.

  Well, shit. I hoped she was wrong about that. I hoped Graham wasn’t still trying to dole out retribution after all these years. How absofuckinglutely depressing.

  Bella leaned down farther, kissing Graham’s hair. “Mmm, helmet sweat,” she said. It was supposed to be a joke, but she looked too sad to pull it off. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she whispered to him. Then Bella walked over to the wall and flipped the overhead light off. “Night, Rikker.”

  Then she left.

  — Graham

  Someone was trying to press my head into a vice. And Christ that hurt.

  Prying my eyes open, the first thing I saw was an unfamiliar ceiling. Wait. It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. I moved my eyes a few degrees, which was painful. But the edges of the room came into focus. A hospital room. Memories of last night began flickering at the edge of my consciousness. There was a lot that didn’t make sense. But I knew Coach had been here. And Bella, Hartley and…

  I moved my chin to see more. In my left hand I held my hockey helmet, which had a nasty crack in it. Under my right hand lay Rikker’s sleeping head. My heart gave a little squeeze just seeing him there, his strong arms folded onto my mattress, the so
ft skin at the side of his neck disappearing into the collar of his T-shirt.

  Gently, I removed my hand from his hair, though. I never touched Rikker in public, not even a playful punch to the shoulder.

  God, my head hurt so badly. What else happened last night? I’d been confused, and I could picture the faces of my friends trying to calm me down. Rikker, especially. He’d looked shaken. But why?

  Beside me, Rikker groaned. He rolled his head around on the mattress, slowly stretching out his neck. Then he picked his sleepy face up and studied me. “You’re awake,” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “We’re at the Central Mass hospital, because you got knocked on the head during the…”

  “…Hockey game,” I said.

  He blinked at me. “Okay. Good job remembering that.”

  A doctor strode into the room then, stethoscope around her neck. She wore honest-to-God combat boots with her scrubs, and a blue jewel in her nose. “Morning, sunshine. I’m just going to look you over one more time before we can release you, okay? Same drill as last night.”

  “Last night?” I asked. But as she came closer, I realized that I remembered her. It had been dark in the room, but during the night I’d awoken several times to see her stalking towards me with a light that she’d shined in my eyes while I was trying to sleep. “Oh. Yeah.”

  “Yep,” she said. “Every two hours you tried to eject me from the premises. Good times.”

  “Sorry,” I managed. “I was confused.”

  Rikker moaned into his hands. “Yes, you were. It was a long night.”

  The doctor moved around to the side of the bed where Rikker was still sitting. “Now that we’re friends again, I want to look at that contusion on your hip, too. Maybe your boyfriend could step out for a minute.”

  Boyfriend.

  The word hit me like an ice bath. Holy crap. For the first time it occurred to me to wonder whether my deflector shields had taken a worse beating last night than my hockey helmet or my skull.

  I must not have kept the flinch off my face. Because the doctor cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry. My mistake. It’s just that you did an awful lot of yellin’ for him last night. Wouldn’t let him leave the room.”