Distraction (42 page)

I attempted to get up, but a sudden, sharp pain sliced
through my head and shoulder, holding me in place.

“Son of a bitch," I cursed. The machine next to my bed
started beeping like crazy and a woman ran in. I looked down at right my arm,
noticing it was wrapped and secured in a sling. I glanced at my mom sleeping,
worrying. She shifted in the chair, but her eyes stayed closed.

"Mr. Daniels. You
'
re awake." The tall, slender
lady with dark hair smiled.

"I think I
'
d prefer not to be right now."

She walked closer, and very carefully, inspected my injured
arm.

"Do you know where you're at?"

"Hospital." I closed my eyes to drown out the
lingering pain. I remembered the game, being tackled, but not much else. Wait,
I remembered Elle, hearing the sound of her voice, but that could've been a
dream.

I opened my eyes and found the lady had moved next to the
machine by my bed. She pressed a few buttons before turning around to face me.

The pain had settled, and I used my good arm to try to
reposition myself in the bed. The slight movement sent another wave of agony
down my shoulder and throbbing in my head.

"Do you want some help sitting up?"

"I
'
m not sure if I want to anymore." The thought of moving
again made me grimace.

"Let me help you. By the way, my name is Dori. Dr.
Castillo will be by to check on you in just a bit."

I gave a curt nod, and Dori looped her arms under mine, and
with super weird muscular arms, helped me to reposition myself. The pain held,
but not as bad with help. I waited a minute before getting information about my
injuries.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"You were knocked out during the game yesterday. You
have a broken right clavicle and a mild concussion. You got lucky. "

Explained the sling and pain.

"Lucky, yeah," I said, trying to laugh but stopped
when the pain in my head increased. "Do you think I could get something
for my head? It hurts like a b–" Nurse Dori cocked her brow. "I mean
my head is killing me."

"I
'
ll see what I can do." She fluffed my pillow behind my
head. “Be back in a bit."

My dad walked in not long after. "Son, you
'
re up."

"Yeah, but I
'
m rethinking that."

"The doctor has assured us you
'
d be back on the
field in a few weeks." He glanced my way then got back to texting. Of
course, he couldn't say,
I'm glad you're not dead or paralyzed, son.
My
dad was a straight to the point kind of guy, but admittedly, knowing I'd be
back on the field in a few weeks made me feel somewhat better. I
'
d been knocked
around plenty in high school, but never had the pleasure of any broken bones or
concussions, so being in the hospital made me anxious.

"Good news," I said, filling the silence.

"You should
'
ve seen that linebacker coming. I
'
ve talked with
your coaches, and they said you
'
ve been distracted."

A fucking lecture. Perfect.

"Tell me this mess isn
'
t because of
that girl you were foolishly engaged to?"
My dad
'
s blatant
inability to remember his accomplice’s name amazed me.

"It's nothing," I said through gritted teeth.

"I couldn't help but notice you're still hanging around
the Richards girl."

Hot, seething anger made my pulse jump.

"Tristan, you
'
re up," my mom said, and just
in time.

"Yeah. I wished you hadn
'
t slept in that
chair, Mom. It doesn
'
t look comfortable.
"

"You worry about getting better, and I
'
ll worry about
my sleeping arrangements."

The door opened. "Knock, knock."
Elle pok
ed her head in
and smiled.

"Hey, Spud. C
ome in.
" She
started to walk in, but stopped from the heated glare my dad gave her.

"No flowers?" I bowed my head. "I
'
m wounded."

Easing into a smile, she walked over to the bed. She held two
cups of coffee. I loved this girl.

"I made it just the way you like it, black." She
handed me my lifeline. The bitter smell eased the foul mood my dad had
successfully put me in.

"I
'
m not sure if you
'
re allowed to drink anything,
Tristan. Perhaps Elle should mind her own business."

“Dad." I sat up quick, barely being able to hide the
pain that lanced through me.

My mom stood. "Wade, that's enough."

"I
'
m sorry, Tristan. I didn
'
t think about
you not being able to drink anything." The hurt and humiliation in Elle
'
s eyes had me
forgetting my pain. I jerked the covers back, ready to make my dad apologize.

"Tristan," both my mom and Elle said, rushing
toward me.

"Looks like our patient is feeling better." All
eyes turned to the doctor standing in the doorway.

"Not too bad," I said, attempting to keep my pain
under control.

"I'm Dr. Castillo. Oh, you can drink your coffee."
That
shut my dad up.

"
Thanks,
" I said, carefully scooting back into my bed.

"Considering the blow you took yesterday, I'm surprised
your injuries aren't worse. You did snap your collarbone in half, but got lucky
by suffering only a mild concussion. Still, I expect you to take it easy."
My dad grumbled, but the doctor continued. "We ran a few tests yesterday
when you were brought in, but I
'
d like to run another CT scan in three or four weeks. Other
than that, as soon as I finish my exam you'll be free to go home."

"Even better." I couldn't wait to get the hell out
of here.

"If you
r
guests wouldn
'
t mind waiting in the hall." The doc turned to my mom
and Elle. "The exam will only take a few minutes." He turned toward
me. "Unless you
'
d like your wife to stay?"

I smiled, couldn't
help it
. Wife. I could
get used to hearing that, but my dad quickly corrected the good doctor.

"She is not my son
'
s wife."

I looked at Elle, and as expected, her cheeks were completely
red. I winked, and she glared back.

"Oh, I guess I
'
d assumed. My apologies."

"No worries. Let's get this checkup started." The
closer I got to getting out of there the better I felt. M
y parents and
Elle left
and the doctor closed the door and then headed back to my bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"I have a bad headache that seems to be worse when I
move, but my shoulder doesn
'
t hurt
…t
oo much
."

"I
'
ll give you a written prescription to take that'll help for
the pain. However, no alcohol while taking them, and driving is out. You should
also refrain from any sexual activity for the next few weeks." He did well
to keep his expression apathetic. I
'
d refrained from sexual activity
longer than I
'
d liked by this point, so a few more weeks shouldn
'
t be too hard.

"Noted," I said, which led to a raised brow from
Dr. Kill-joy.

“All right, let
'
s have you stand up, then." The doc came around to help
me to stand. Once I was steady on my feet, he released my arm. Thank goodness,
my vision didn
'
t waver
. The sharp banging in my head stayed, but not as rough as
I'd expected.

"How
's your vision?
"

"Good. I can see fine, nothing
'
s doubled or
blurry."

"All right, let's see you walk heel to toe." I did
as instructed and all went well.

"Good, now grab my hand and squeeze as hard as you can
with your left." I did and was pleased to find my strength caused him to
grimace.

"You're pretty strong." He released my hands,
wiggling his fingers. "Now, look straight ahead and follow the light with
your eyes." The doc clicked on his small pen light, and I followed the
light’s path up, then down, then side to side.

"Looks pretty good. I
'
m pleased to
say, your neuro check is good. You can get dressed in the bathroom. I
'
ll leave that
written prescription on your bedside table while you change."

"
Thanks, Doc,
" I said, heading to the bathroom.

"You played well, Mr. Daniels." I stopped and
glanced over my shoulder. "I
'
m a big fan, used to play a little Tech ball back in my day."
He had that dreamy smile and faraway look in his eyes I understood well.

"
Thanks.
" He gave me a short nod, and I headed into the bathroom
to change.

Elle

I hadn't expected Tristan to be released from the hospital so
soon. In fact, I wanted a second opinion. With a big gulp and swallowing my
fears, I decided to voice my concern to his mom.

"Mrs. Daniel's, do you think Tristan is really okay to
leave? I mean, considering how hard he was hit and that he was passed out for
so long? Do you think he should get a second opinion?" I worried my bottom
lip between my teeth. She gave me an amused look and then patted my arm.

"Elle, dear, I understand how worried you are. Actually,
your concern makes me feel better knowing my son will be left in good hands
when I'm not here."

All I could do was gape at her, words sticking to the back of
my throat.

Tristan's dad cleared his throat from behind us. We turned to
see Tristan being wheeled out of his room.

"Tristan." His mom went to his side. "Ready to
get home?"

He nodded, and I stepped back to give them room. I'd planned
to stay out of his way, but he insisted differently.

"Spud, you ready to drive me home?"

His mom and I both on the same page, gasped. I looked from
him to his mom. "Um, I don't think that's a good idea, Tristan."

"What's not a good idea is leaving my car here. You can
leave yours here and I'll have Bret drive it back to your house."

"How do you know your car's here?"

"I called Bret in the room before I came out. He said
he'd pull her up front."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Your mom and I will
drive you home." Of course Mr. Daniels didn
'
t concede to the
idea of him riding with me, but Mrs. Daniels put an end to his tirade.

"It's fine, Wade."

"Good, let's go," Tristan said.

I tried to convince Tristan we should take my car instead of
taking his, but he refused to listen. He knew I sucked at driving a stick. As a
matter of fact, he forbid me to ever drive
her
after my first attempted
disaster back in high school. All this led me to believe he did need close
supervision, but he wouldn't listen as we rode the elevator to the main doors
of the hospital. Stubborn ass.

As of late, I hadn
'
t been driving my own car. Eric
usually picked me up, but those days were behind me now. I was okay that we'd
ended things between us. My heart ached from the hurt in Eric
'
s eyes when he
realized we were over, but at least now we could move on.

The same sudden fear trickled back into my thoughts. As much
as I wanted to let go and take that final leap with Tristan, my fear kept me
silent. A few more days wouldn
'
t change anything. Besides, Tristan didn
'
t need added
stress in his life at the moment.

Tristan's parents said their goodbyes after helping him into
his car. When his door closed, I tucked my worries away.

"So, are you going back home for Thanksgiving?" I
pulled away from the hospital successfully, waiting for his answer.