Starlee's Turn (The Wayward Sons 2)

I stand, tugging my sweater down over my leggings. I open the door and find him there—eyes rimmed in red. My heart stumbles. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got to go—George—”

“George what?”

His hands shake. I grab them. “He’s at the hospital. Down in Mammoth Lakes.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

He reaches for his backpack, shoving his computer and headphones inside. “Something on the field. He got tackled and I don’t know.” He swallows. “He’s not conscious.”

I nod, trying to wrap my head around it. “Okay. Okay. Uh, get your bag and go home. I’ll lock up.”

He does what I say but then stops at the doorway. “You’ll come, right?”

“Come where?” I’m shutting off lights, checking the bathroom for anything out of place.

“To the hospital. He’ll want you there.”

“Of course. Let me go tell Leelee what’s going on. I’ll meet you at the shop.”

We step outside and I lock the door behind us. The whole area is quiet, none of the cottages are rented out this week. He reaches for my hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being here. If I lose him—”

“Hey.” I touch his chin. “You’re not losing anyone. His head is too hard to damage, okay?”

He needs to hear it, even though I have no idea if it’s the truth. We part in the driveway and I run up to my house, blinking back tears.

“Leelee,” I call, running into the house.

I know one thing for certain. Charlie’s not the only one that can’t lose George. I think the rest of us would fall apart, too.

25

Starlee

The trip down to Mammoth Lake is quiet. Dexter drives while Sierra, worried out of her mind, sits in the front passenger seat. I sit in the back with Charlie, making what I hope are soothing circles on his hand with my thumb.

The hospital is small—much smaller than the one back home. Mammoth Lake isn’t a big town. Nothing around here is. Dexter pulls around the circle and Charlie and Sierra jump out.

“I’ll go park.”

“I’ll go with you,” I say, feeling uneasy about going inside. How bad is it? What if he’s really hurt?

They rush inside and Dexter drives around to the visitor parking lot. “You’ve been here before?” I ask, when I realize he’s familiar with the layout.

“Oh yeah. This is definitely not our first time here to pick up George.”

He speaks so calmly. Casually. I express my doubt for the first time. “You think he’s going to be okay?”

He eases the car into a spot, hands lingering on the wheel. He turns to face me. “I don’t want to think anything else.”

He opens the car door and pushes the seat forward so I can get out. He offers me his hand and I take it, then don’t let it go. “I’ve only been to the hospital once.”

“Yeah?”