Rex

After nearly twenty-four hours of scans, consultations and debate over surgical approaches, Teresa is a welcome distraction as she enters my room. After a brief moment of chit chat, Mom excuses herself to give us a little privacy. “You like my halo?” I ask, glancing up at the metal frame encompassing my head.

“It’s crazy to see you like this,” she replies with a sad expression. “Is it true what they’re saying?”

“I guess I don’t know what anyone’s saying.” I can only imagine. “Other than my parents, the only other people I’ve talked to are doctors and nurses. Are they saying I’m finished?”

“Yeah. Everyone thinks your odds of being drafted are pretty much nil,” she says, reaching for my hand.

“My father is flying in a former colleague from West Virginia. He says he’s one of three surgeons that he would allow to perform my surgery,” I tell her, still feeling optimistic that this guy can work a miracle. “He’s going to rebuild my C5 vertebra from a bone in my hip. Everyone’s telling me how lucky I am to be moving at all. Most injuries like this either severely damage or even sever the spinal cord.”

“Yeah, Charles felt horrible for trying to help you up.” A familiar pout crosses her lips. “Everyone just thought you had gotten your bell rung.”

“It was really strange. Everything just went black. Now, looking back I remember seeing the yellow helmet and hearing a crunch in my neck, but at the time I was totally focused on whether or not I got the touchdown,” I admit, which seems completely irrelevant in hindsight.

“You made the touchdown, but everyone knows that without you it’s the end of the winning streak.” She continues to rub my arm with a somber expression. “It’s actually shattered huh? That’s what people have been fearing, but everyone has been closed off.”

“I know. It’s hospital policy when there’s so much at stake,” I explain. “They want to avoid speculation, so please don’t say anything to anyone,” I request picking up a strange vibe from her.

“Kip and Charles both texted me this morning to find out what I knew. I told them I was coming to see you,” she confides. “Am I just supposed to just ignore them?”

“No. Just tell them we won’t know anything until after surgery.” I take hold of her hand and turn my eyes to focus on hers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she shifts her eyes off to the side. “I’m just scared that this will change everything.”

“It might end up changing my career path, but it doesn’t have to change everything,” I counter. “I’m going to come out of this.”

“I know, but nothing will be the same. We had plan a and plan b, depending on who drafted you.” Her eyes continue to dart around the room, avoiding mine. “We never talked about plan c.”

“We’re great together,” I remind her, thinking back to Friday night. “I’ve never connected with anyone the way I do with you. It shouldn’t matter where we live or what we do for a living.”

“No, it probably shouldn’t, but…” She cuts her sentence short and her eyes come back to mine. “I really do care about you and I’m glad you’ll be okay. It broke my heart to see you lying on the field like that.”

“Dr. Stephens just landed,” my father says, sticking his head in the room. “I’m going to the airport pick him up and they’ll have you prepped for surgery by the time we get back. He needs to be back in Morgantown tonight, so there’s no time to waste.” He looks over at Teresa and gives her a nod. “You’ll be able to see him again in the morning. He’s in most qualified hands possible. This guy is the best of the best.”

“Okay. Goodbye Rex. I hope everything goes great for you,” she says in a way that sounds as if she’s leaving for good.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” I tug at her hand, wanting her to lean in and give me a kiss.

She lifts my hand to her lips and kisses me on the knuckles instead. “I’ll see you later.” The expression on her face says it all. Even though we’ve only been serious for a few months, I’ve known her long enough to realize that she’s distancing herself from me. It was something I was glad to see when I was trying to pry her away from her old boyfriend, but now I’m seeing it from the other side.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her, knowing that Dad’s right and I’ll have the best possible care. Maybe I’m just imagining all of this. My thoughts haven’t been too clear because of all the painkillers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Two nurses enter the room, one unlocking the wheels of my bed while the other grabs hold of the stand holding the monitors.

“Bye Rex,” she says as they push my bed past her and head down the corridor toward surgery. She’ll be back tomorrow, I tell myself. I’m just feeling a little vulnerable at the moment. Teresa is a better person than that and we have something special together.