Coping Skills (Players of Marycliff University Book 5)

by Jerica MacMillan

  There was no rhyme or reason to who recovered fully and who didn’t, a combination of location and the force of the impact itself plus individual response to physical stress seemed to determine the extent of the injury. Watching from the stands, it was impossible to know any of those things. Everything had been such a tangle of bodies and limbs that it had been hard to tell what had happened anyway. All she knew was that when the other players had gotten up, Daniel had been left on the field unconscious. She knew enough to know that that was bad.

  So she nodded. “Okay. Tell him thanks for me.”

  “Sure.”

  Another pause. Elena could feel Hannah looking at her, but she kept her attention focused on her hands.

  “You never answered my question. Do you want to go home?”

  Elena thought it over. “Um, not really.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  Finally looking at her friend, Elena saw that the look of pity had gone from Hannah’s face. Gracias a Dios. She couldn’t handle pity right now on top of the riot of emotions inside her. Not that she handled it well any other time. But today was especially bad. “I know it’s dumb, but can we just stay here? I don’t—“

  “Sure.” Hannah glossed right over the inarticulate pause, acting like nothing was weird about wanting to sit in the car for the rest of the game.

  They stayed in the car, alternating between periods of silence and talking about the school year, their breath fogging up the windows. They avoided the topics of family and relationships. Matt texted updates when the fourth quarter started and the game ended, calling a few minutes after the text letting them know that Marycliff had won.

  Elena had snorted at that. Leave it to Matt to think they might care about who won when her stomach was tied up in knots waiting to hear how Daniel was doing.

  “Hey, babe,” Hannah answered when Matt called. She glanced at Elena, then back at the steering wheel. “Yeah.” Pause “Okay.” Pause. “Yeah, we’re still in the parking lot.” Long pause. “Okay, I’ll let her know. See you in a few.”

  Elena had her thumbnail between her teeth, a bad habit she’d managed to quit in high school. Except for when she was stressed out and waiting on the edge of her seat for information. She’d chewed her fingernails to the quick this summer during her dad’s surgery. And now she’d started again while waiting for Hannah to get off the phone and tell her what was going on. Fuck. This thing with Daniel was supposed to be casual, a way to shut off her brain and escape when she needed to. It wasn’t supposed to turn into this.

  She clenched her hands into fists and stuffed them between her legs, forcing herself not to chew on her nails. She didn’t need to chew her nails. He’d be fine. And … Damn. She couldn’t lie to herself that she didn’t care that much after all. She cared a hell of a lot, and that freaked her out as much as Daniel getting knocked out during a game.

  Hannah turned to face her after hanging up the phone. “That was Matt.”

  “Yeah. I got that.”

  Smirking, Hannah continued. “Anyway, he said they took Daniel to the hospital for a CT. Coop’s coming out with Matt and will take you to see him.”

  Elena sucked in a breath, provoking a concerned look from Hannah.

  “You want to go see him, right? I mean, you were so upset about him getting hurt I figured …” She trailed off, waiting for Elena to respond, but she didn’t say anything, just stared at her friend, mute. “I mean, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. We can just tell Coop that you can’t handle hospitals and to have Daniel call or text when he can.”

  “No.” Elena shook her head. “No. I’ll go. I want to see him. I need to see him.”

  She needed to reassure herself that he was okay. And she needed to figure out what to do about the fact that she cared about him so much, but she couldn’t handle watching him play or knowing that he risked getting his head bashed in every week—no, every day. They practiced almost every day. And he was a receiver. Players would be trying to tackle him every game. Not like Chris who played defense. Who did the tackling. Not that he couldn’t get hurt, but everyone wasn’t trying to run him down every practice, every game. She couldn’t handle it.

  A rap on the driver’s side window startled her, then Hannah’s door opened, revealing Matt. “Hey. Coop’s here.” His eyes focused on Elena. “Ready?”

  Was she ready? Not really. But she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to visit someone she cared about in the hospital. Not after this summer. And no amount of time would make her ready to have the conversation with Daniel that she knew she needed to have.

  She swallowed and nodded. First she had to make sure he was okay. She’d deal with the other part after that. Acid stung the back of her throat at the realization that if he wasn’t okay she’d have to wait a while to have that conversation. But what would she do in the meantime? God, this was a mess. How did this happen? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  Her fingers managed to unlatch the door, and she stepped out, locking her knees to force her legs to hold steady. She could do this. She had to do this. She’d survived worse. She’d get through this, too.

  Coop stood there, his dark hair wet and slicked back, his blue eyes radiating concern instead of their usual teasing merriment. She forced a smile, hoping to reassure him that she was okay, at least.

  He shifted the strap of the bag hanging off his shoulder. “Hey. I’ve got Carter’s regular clothes. They took him still in his uniform. I figure he’ll want to change before he goes home.”

  She nodded when he paused, expecting a response. She didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m parked this way.” He tilted his head to one side and turned, starting the direction he’d indicated.

  She followed behind him, turning to wave at Hannah as she left. “Thanks, Han. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Coop had stopped, waiting for her to catch up to him. They walked wordlessly to his car. As they walked, she realized she had no idea what kind of car he drove. Didn’t know anything about him, really. He liked to tell dirty jokes, and the fact that he hadn’t cracked one yet worried her. And he bragged about his conquests. Did he consider her a loss? They’d danced once for a while at a club. He’d been more interested in Hannah, but Hannah had bumped into Matt that night, the first time they’d had a chance to talk since she’d seen him at her internship last semester.

  That all seemed like a lifetime ago. She didn’t know if Coop even remembered her from that night. He’d never said anything, and she didn’t bring it up.

  He slowed, his hand going into his pocket and pulling out a key fob, the lights flashing on an older Ford Focus when he pushed the button. She watched him toss his bag into the back seat before climbing in.

  The silence stretched between them as they navigated the traffic leaving the stadium parking lot. They’d missed the worst of it, but there was still some. Neither of them said anything until they’d parked at the hospital, and Coop broke the silence.

  “He’s going to be okay, you know. This happens a lot. Everyone’s always fine.”

  She arched a brow. “Have you read the recent studies on football players, concussions, and long-term repercussions?”

  He grimaced. “A few, yeah. I know. Those things paint a bleak picture, but that’s part of the reason we’re here. They’re extra cautious now. If you get a hard hit to the head, even if you don’t black out, they usually send you for a CT. Carter got hit pretty hard, and he was out for a few minutes, but he came to pretty quickly. Odds are the CT will be clear, he’ll be out for a week or two, and then be cleared to play for the last few games before the season ends. He’s going to be fine.”

  He said the last sentence with conviction. Was he trying to convince her or himself?

  But she didn’t feel like arguing, so she nodded. “What happened out there? Do you know? Fr
om where I was sitting I just saw him go over the back of that one guy, then a big pile of bodies, and when they got up, he didn’t. Did he land on his head or something?”

  Lips compressed into a thin line, Coop nodded. “Yeah. Kind of on the side of his head. But I think when number thirty-six on the other team tripped and fell on Carter’s head, that was what did it. I saw him go down, and even though falling on your head sucks, the way he went down shouldn’t have knocked him out on its own.”

  “Oh.” He’d hit his head, then someone tripped and fell on it? That was worse than she’d thought. “Thanks for filling me in.”

  “Sure. Of course.” He opened his door, so she did the same, and they climbed out, following the signs to the Emergency Room entrance.

  Coop lifted the old-school phone next to the door they’d been directed to at the front desk and told whoever answered they were there to see Daniel Carter. With a buzz, the door opened, and Coop ushered her through. “They said he’s in room eight.”

  Following the numbers on the doors, they found his room, slipping around the curtain to see him lying on a hospital bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, a blanket pulled up to his chest, his red Marycliff jersey peeking out of the top, looking oddly deflated without his shoulder pads underneath it. One of the trainers sat in a chair off to one side reading a magazine. The trainer looked up as she and Coop walked in. Daniel lifted his arm, blinking at them, then a smile broke out on his face.

  “Hey! You guys came to keep me company, huh?”

  Elena hung back at the foot of the bed while Coop moved to the side, clasping Daniel’s extended hand for a second before letting go. “Of course, man. Everyone knows hospitals are boring as hell, so your girl and I are here to entertain you. Plus, you’ll need a ride home once they clear you to leave.”

  Daniel chuckled softly. “Yeah, man. I got back from the CT a few minutes ago, so you have good timing. We’ll be here for a while waiting for the results. I heard them announce a trauma on its way, so that’ll take priority over me.” He turned his attention to Elena. “What’re you doing way down there? Come over here.”

  She stepped around to the side of the bed, following his beckoning hand. Coop moved out of the way, giving her room to stand next to Daniel. The rail was down on that side of the bed, and he looped his arm around her, pulling her close.

  He let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to text you, but they wouldn’t let me have my phone.”

  “It’s fine. If you have a concussion, you shouldn’t use your phone anyway.”

  “He has a concussion.” Elena turned at the sound of the trainer’s voice. She’d barely paid attention to the pale woman sitting off to the side of the room with her brown hair pulled back in a bun and wearing khaki pants and a Marycliff Football polo.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Elena wasn’t used to being called ma’am. It felt weird. “He lost consciousness after a hit to the head. His balance is off, and he shows other signs of minor cognitive impairment consistent with a concussion. We just want to make sure there’s no bleeding.”

  “Of course.” Her voice came out weak, and she had to swallow down the bile rising up in her throat at the mention of bleeding being a possibility.

  Elena sagged against the bed, grateful for its support and the warm weight of Daniel’s arm around her waist. Its presence grounded her, reminded her that he was conscious and aware, and staved off the flashes of memory that ignited every time she closed her eyes—memories of a different hospital bed holding her unconscious father, him blinking at her when she came to visit after he finally woke up like he couldn’t figure out why she would be there, him yelling and throwing dishes at the nurses, overturning his table when he got angry or irritated, which seemed to be most of the time.

  No. Daniel wasn’t like that. He was conscious, and while he seemed a little sleepier and dopier than normal, he was himself and glad to see her and Coop. She clung to that thought while they waited, Coop filling in Daniel on how the game ended. She stayed with him, half her weight on the bed next to Daniel, one foot still on the floor, his arm staying wrapped around her. He kept his eyes closed a lot of the time, and that was good. He needed to rest so his brain could heal.

  After what felt like an eternity, the doctor swept the curtain aside and strode into the room. He glanced at Elena and Coop and introduced himself to them as Dr. Reed. “Well, Daniel, your CT is clear—no skull fractures and no bleeding—which means you can go home. You took a pretty hard hit, though, so be sure to rest as much as you can so you can recuperate with as little stimulation as possible. If you feel dizzy, you can take some dramamine, but it’ll make you sleepy, so keep that in mind. Any questions?”

  Daniel had opened his eyes and sat up as the doctor spoke. “Yeah, uh, could I get a note for my professors? I think I might miss a couple days of class.”

  Dr. Reed chuckled. “Of course. The nurse will be in with your discharge papers in a few minutes. She’ll have the note, too.” He shook Daniel’s hand and gave the trainer a nod before striding out of the room.

  Coop sat up in his chair. “Oh, man. I forgot to bring your street clothes in. They’re in the car. Hang on, and I’ll get ‘em.”

  He stood, but Daniel waved him back down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, man. I’ll change at home.”

  The trainer stood, placing her magazine back into the rack on the wall. “Since your friends are here, I’ll go ahead and go. Coach Hanson and I will be in touch to monitor your recovery and get you approved for play again.”

  “How long do you think I’ll be out?”

  “A week or two, probably. We’ll see how it goes.” She shook his hand too and slipped past the privacy curtain, leaving Daniel to Elena and Coop.

  Daniel gave her a sleepy smile. “Sounds like I’ll have lots of time to hang out.”

  “Yeah.” She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. Relief didn’t begin to describe how she felt that he seemed okay. Everyone, including the doctor, seemed to expect him to be just fine in a week or two. Though she knew from bitter experience that doctors tended to tell you the hoped-for scenario as the likely possibility even if it wasn’t. Her dad gave the perfect example of that. They’d assured her mom again and again that cases like his often made a full recovery. But he hadn’t.

  Daniel wasn’t her dad. She had to remind herself of that. He would be fine. But the toll of waiting and wondering was too much. She couldn’t do this again and again. And she knew that every game he played she would feel this anxiety that he’d get hurt again, that this would be the day he got hit so hard or so many times that he had long-lasting problems.

  Too bad he wasn’t a boxer or MMA fighter. She never would’ve gotten involved with him then. Now she was in too deep to extract herself painlessly. It would kill her to end things with him, but she didn’t see any other choice.

  And he would be so hurt. Especially on top of getting injured in the game. Should she wait to break it off? Maybe. At least wait until after tonight. She’d help Coop get him home, and then she’d have Hannah come pick her up and figure it out from there. No need to make any decisions right now.

  The nurse’s arrival stopped her thoughts and made her realize she’d been unconsciously chewing on her thumbnail again. This had to stop. Or her nails would be rough nubs again.

  Elena walked beside the nurse as she wheeled Daniel out to the entrance where Coop would meet them with the car, entertaining them with a story about a man who’d come into the ER a few weeks ago and climbed into the drop ceiling.

  And Elena did her best to only worry about what was happening right then, pushing away all thoughts of the painful conversation she knew loomed ahead of her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daniel felt sleepy, and the worried looks he kept getting from Elena wrapped him in warmth. If she worried about him, that meant she cared about him. He kept his eyes closed and the seat partly reclined the whole way home. He’
d tried to get Elena to take the front, but she’d insisted that his longer legs would be more comfortable there and that she’d take the back. When he’d suggested that he lie down in the back, she’d vetoed that idea, insisting that he had to be in a seat with a seatbelt. She’d grumbled about him reclining the seat, but had let it go when he brought it up some.

  A smile played over his lips at her concern. What he really wanted was to get home and get to bed. He needed a shower first, and then he wanted to turn off all the bright lights that kept stabbing at his eyes, making the throbbing in his head worse, and sleep forever, with Elena snuggled against him. That sounded like his own personal version of heaven right now.

  Daniel cracked his eyes open when he felt them bump over the familiar entrance to their apartment complex.

  Coop slid into his assigned spot and killed the engine. “You gonna be able to make it upstairs on your own, or do you need help?”

  Rubbing a hand over his head, Daniel thought about it. “I think I can manage. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

  Coop flashed a grin and climbed out of the car. Elena’s door opened and closed before his fingers found the door handle and pulled it open. Even though they’d assured him at the hospital that he had no bleeding or swelling, his head felt like it floated somewhere about six inches above his body, and his brain felt too big for his skull. It made his movements as sluggish as his thoughts.

  When he pushed the door open and put his feet on the asphalt, his cleats less steady on the smooth surface than they were on turf, Elena stood in front of him, her mouth a tight line, her brows drawn together forming a wrinkle in her forehead.

  He reached a hand out to her. “Hey. I’m fine.”

  That made her lips compress more, but she nodded, holding out a hand. He took it, because she offered. If it had been Coop he would’ve ignored him. But he couldn’t turn down Elena’s help. Each time she looked worried or stayed close to him, he smiled. He couldn’t help it, and didn’t want to. His smiles only made her look more worried, though, so he tried not to keep grinning like a wacko. No need to make her think he’d lost his mind when he got kicked in the head.