I turned and cried.
I cried into Randy Michels’s chest like he was my dad, like he was my lifeline. I clung onto him with everything I had. The funny part? He held me right back as if I was his lifeline too.
“He’ll be okay,” Randy whispered. “He’s a fighter, okay? He’s a fighter, don’t you forget it!” He nodded as his Adam’s apple bobbed against my face. “He’s not like his brother, God rest his soul. Wes is strong. He’s like his mom.” Randy sighed. “Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
I gripped Randy’s hand on one side of me and Gabe’s on the other as cameras went off.
Wanting to yell, I kept my head down as we made our way off the field, amidst the flashes of cameras and yelling from the fans. They wanted to know what was wrong. They wanted to know all the things I wanted to know. I just didn’t have the answers.
My body went into a state of shock on the way to the hospital I couldn’t stop shaking. I was pissed that it seemed that Gabe knew what was going on but I didn’t. Even Randy seemed like he had expected Wes to pass out. What kind of father expects his son to pass out on the field?
“Come on.” Gabe tucked me under his arm, and we made our way to the private wing of the University Hospital.
“Is he stable?” Randy asked once we reached the room the nurse had directed us toward. The nurse paused and lowered her clipboard.
Her eyes flickered to mine before returning to Randy’s.
“Family,” he said. “They’re family.”
“Right.” Her eyes flickered between us before she answered. “He’s stable but had a very dangerous reaction with his last group of medications. As you know they’re trial basis only, there was no way for us to know he would have that type of reaction. Luckily, he was in a public place, so the minute he blacked out he was able to get help. Had he been in his room or even—”
“That’s enough,” Randy interrupted with a wave of his hand. “We’d like to see him now.”
“But—”
“Now,” Randy said smoothly. “He needs his family.”
“Yes, sir.” She ducked out of the way and walked briskly down the hall, her clipboard tucked firmly under her arm.
I hated that his name was already on the door. I hated that I was in a hospital. Pausing in the middle of the doorway, I asked in a small voice, “What don’t I know?”
Randy swallowed and looked to Gabe.
Why the hell would he look at Gabe?
With a curse, Gabe licked his lips and nodded into the room. “Let him tell you. I refuse to be the guy to bring that kind of news.”
“That kind of news,” I repeated over and over again in my head. What did that even mean? My heart clenched. My stomach felt like it was in a billion knots, yet I walked farther into the room.
Wes was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor, but other than that he looked normal, healthy even.
His eyes flickered open. He groaned and asked, “Did we win?”
“By a lot, man.” Gabe laughed. “Though we could have done without the theatrics.”
“Theatrics?” he asked, his voice kind of slurring. “Holy shit! Kiersten! Where is she? I have to tell her. I have to…” His voice died off when I stepped out from behind Gabe. Tears streamed down my face, most likely ruining the paint. I watched his face fall.
“Give us a minute,” he whispered.
His dad nodded at me, then kissed Wes on the forehead and walked out with Gabe, leaving us in a crazy, tense silence.
“So,” I said in a shaky voice. “It’s after Homecoming.”
Wes didn’t reply.
I didn’t care. I was just glad he was breathing. I moved to the side of his bed and sat, folding my hands in my lap. “You promised you’d tell me everything. No more lies, no more omissions.”
With a shudder I looked into his eyes. They pooled with tears as he blinked a few times and then closed them. “I’m sick.”