“They wanted to take him on the stretcher, but he wanted to walk off.” Chase runs his hands down his sweat-covered face. “I think that was for your and the fam’s benefit.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m sure. They called. They were watching.”
“Damn.” Brady glances behind to the side and back. “One of the guys said he heard him wheezing, saying something about his ribs, so I don’t know.”
I nod again, gnawing on my inner lip. “I’m going to call my dad. If I hear more, I’ll call.”
“Same.”
“Ari, he’s going to be okay.” Chase catches my eyes. “He’ll be okay. Call me or Brady if you, you know, just want to talk.”
“We will.” I look to Cam, grabbing her hand.
“You guys try to rest on the bus.” Cam drops her head on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do. Don’t worry too much.”
Grim smiles cover the boys’ lips and Brady sighs. “We gotta hit the showers, we don’t have a lot of time left before we have to be on the bus.”
“Go. I’ll text you.”
With that, they hang up and we drop against the cushions.
I call my dad to fill him in on the little I found out, and he says he just spoke with the hospital, but to no avail. Cameron and I spend the next several hours pacing, heating and reheating food after allowing it to get cold all over again.
We were still awake when the sun started to rise, but we must have fallen asleep at some point because suddenly, I’m waking to a pounding at my door. Cam jumps up, rushing to open it, and Brady and Chase hurry in. Brady hugs Cameron first, pulling me in next.
“Anything?” he hopes.
I shake my head, turning to Chase, who wraps me up next. “Why hasn’t he called anyone? Why hasn’t the hospital called your parents?”
My eyes squeeze shut. “I don’t know. We stayed up all night waiting, and nothing. I’m scared.”
“I know,” he whispers, his hold tightening, and I bury my face in his chest. “I know you are.”
A soft tap has my head snapping up, and we all look to the door Cameron left wide open.
Noah stands in the entryway.
“Noah,” I exhale, and my muscles go lax.
I rush toward him and a small smile pulls at his lips as he steps inside, his arms slowly molding around me as I throw myself into him.
I begin to cry, but his lips find my ear.
“Shh, Juliet,” he murmurs. “You don’t want him to hear you cry.”
My head snaps up, and I frown as Noah’s eyes soften.
He nods, letting me go as he brings his phone up beside us.
“I’m with her now,” he tells the man standing awkwardly on the other side of the video call.
The man nods and shuffles around. There’s a click, and then the camera flips, and Mason laid up in a hospital bed fills the screen.
A sob breaks from me and I tear the phone from Noah’s hands. “Mase…”
“Hey, baby sister.” His voice is raspy, and a weak smile pulls at his mouth.
“You’re okay,” I cry. “Are you okay?”
He chuckles, but as fast as it leaves him, he groans, his hands clenching the blanket laid over him. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Cameron squeezes herself in beside me, and then the boys are right here too, crowding in.
Mason’s eyes move along the three of us, and they grow glossy, so he flicks his away.
“You pansies miss me?” Mase jokes, gratitude in his brown gaze.
“Course we came straight here, brother.” Brady nods, knowing that’s exactly what he would need from his best friends. “Right off the bus.”
Mason nods, looking to his lap. He licks his lips before returning his attention to the screen. “Two fractured ribs and uh” —he clears his throat— “a sprained shoulder. I’m out no less than four weeks, maybe longer.” His jaw tics.
No one says anything because we know Mason. He doesn’t want to hear a word about it. He’s accepted it, and that’s that.
“Way to get out of practice, asshole,” Brady jokes, even though he doesn’t feel it.
But Mason grins, and that’s the point.
“Ari, don’t say anything to Mom and Dad. I’m going to call them right now, but I’m telling her I’m bruised up and need rest. That’s it.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods. “I don’t need them worrying or abandoning the trip they spent the last four years saving for.”
“Chances are she already booked flights.”
He smiles. “Yeah, I better hang up and call her right quick.”
“When will you be home?”
“I’m being released right now, just waiting for paperwork. This guy” —he nods at the man holding the camera— “grabbed me some sweats and shit to put on, and Coach hooked me up with a flight home. It’s a short jet, some alumni guy was watching, saw the hit, and hit him up, so I don’t have to wait around at the airport like this.”