“Vi wants to talk to you.”
Charlene passes me the phone. I can’t get the shaking under control. I think this might be what shock is. I clutch my phone with both hands and bring it close to my ear. “Buck?” It comes out as a horrible-sounding sob.
“Shh. It’s okay, Vi. He’s gonna be okay.” His voice is cracking, though, so I don’t know if I should believe him.
“He w-wasn’t moving. H-he w-w-wasn’t—I c-c-can’t.” I suck in a gasping breath. I’m losing it again, not that I had anything under control in the first place.
“He took a hit, Vi. It happens. You gotta trust he’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna meet you at the hospital. We’re all gonna be there with you. ’Kay?”
“H-how long will you be?”
“Half an hour tops. We’re right behind you.”
“Do Daisy and Robbie know?”
“I talked to them. They’re on the first flight out. They’ll be here by morning.”
I try not to think about how many hours that is, and what could happen between now and then. “’K-kay.”
“He’s gonna be fine, Vi.”
“He has to be.”
“Put Lily on for a sec.”
“’K-kay.”
As soon as I pass the phone to Lily, Charlene drapes an arm over my shoulder and pulls me to her side. I’m a snotting, sobbing mess. I can’t stop, and it’s making breathing difficult. “I’m scared.”
“I know. We all are.” This is what I love about my best friend. She doesn’t tell me it’s going to be okay when she doesn’t know if that’s true. She’s just here for me.
I can tell Lily’s on the phone with Randy by her tone. I’m crying too hard to listen. It feels like it takes forever to get to the hospital. We lose the ambulance at a red light, so I start panicking again. My mom turns in her seat and holds out her hand. I want to crawl in her lap and make her tell me it’s all a bad dream, like I’m a little kid, even though I know it’s not.
Sidney stops at the emergency entrance, and we pile out. I stumble-run through the doors. It’s busy and bright and loud. Everything is moving too fast and too slow.
“Vi, take a breath, honey.” My mom’s hand is on my back.
“I just want to see him.” I search for Sunny’s blond hair, but there are too many people, and I can’t seem to focus on any one thing.
My mom guides me to intake, which is where we find Sunny. She’s not in much better shape than me.
“Did he wake up?” I ask.
Her bottom lip trembles. “He made a noise when they put in the IV, but that was it. He’s had a concussion before, but he’s never been out like this…”
She doesn’t have to say more. We both start crying again, because we just don’t know.
There are no answers, and all the questions keep piling up, burying me until I feel like I’m going to suffocate under the pressure.
With Alex’s medical information already passed over, we don’t have to go through the process of filling out forms. A very sweet nurse takes us to a private waiting room while Alex is assessed by a team of doctors. He’ll have the very best care, but it doesn’t provide much in the way of solace when none of us has any idea of how severe the damage is.
My knees feel weak, so I sink in to one of the chairs. “I don’t even understand what happened. One minute he was fine and the next…what if…” I don’t finish the statement. I can’t think about what ifs. My mom sits beside me, and Charlene’s on my other side. Sunny and Lily are huddled together across the room.
“So all he did was make a noise? He didn’t open his eyes? Not even for a second? Did the ambulance attendants say anything?” I throw too many questions at Sunny, grasping for anything positive to hold on to in this nightmare of a situation.
Sunny rubs her forehead. “It was just the noise. Um, they think maybe he has a broken collarbone and possibly a dislocated shoulder. He could have a compressed spine? They’re worried about fractures. And trauma to the brain. They said something about that.”
None of what she says makes me feel any better. “But he was wearing a helmet. His brain should be fine. He should be fine. He has to be fine.” The words spill out in stilted streams as I try to reassure myself.
“He’s had injuries before.” That’s all Sunny says, because what else can she tell me?
I nod. The words are all stuck, and I can’t seem to speak any more. I look down at my hands. They’re still shaking. I straighten my engagement ring, my super-ostentatious, giant diamond gleaming in the horrible fluorescent lights. It’s exactly the kind of ring I expected from Alex: excessive and beautiful and so much more than I deserve. I won’t allow myself to consider what it means if he’s not okay.