The Beautiful Game

Chapter Forty - Carter

The God damn irony of it all.

I'd asked Lou to come to a game numerous times, and the one time she did, I got knocked the fuck out.

Safe to say, it was humbling.

Up until that moment, I'd been playing one of the best games of my life, thinking about how good the clips would look on my highlight reel for the NFL rookie draft. The last clip of me being splatted to the floor like a bug on the windshield would definitely not make the cut.

I cracked open my eyes to my helmet being yanked off and blurry medical staff asking me what day it was. All I could do was groan out the answers and wish the ground would just swallow me whole, and leave me there.

Once I'd made it to my feet I could hardly even acknowledge the crowds applause because I noticed Marcus and Seamus laughing near the sideline, the little shits.

I'll admit, if Lou hadn't been in the crowd, I'd have laughed too. Lord knows how those two bulldozers had snuck through our defence; I'd bounced like I'd been hit by an SUV. Shit, how weak must she think I am?

So now, concussion test after concussion test, I was resigned to my room with Harvey, one of the junior substitutes, and my designated babysitter.

We'd won the game, Michigan 41 - Penn State 37. The rest of the team were out celebrating with the friends and family who'd travelled. I figured he must have lost a bet or pissed coach off, to end up with the job of looking after my miserable ass. He was currently sitting on the sofa scrolling through tiktok on a low volume, whilst I sprawled out on the double bed with an ice pack on my left knee.

His instructions were simple: keep me in the hotel room, give me regular pain meds and make sure I wake up. I think it was the last part that was freaking him out. Ten minutes ago I'd closed my eyes for a couple of beats too long and he'd jumped out of his seat like he'd been electrocuted.

My phone started to buzz beside me, Mom calling. Groaning, aching and much to Harvey's dismay, I shifted off the bed to standing. Choosing, for prides sake, to take the call in the bathroom.

"Hey mom."

"Oh, honey. We saw what happened on tv." Fanfuckingtastic. So, that's out there in the world now.

"I'm fine mom."

"Coach said you have a concussion, is there someone with you? Do you want me to drive down? Actually you know what, I'm going to come to you I'll just find my keys-" Her voice is fluttery and tear stained down the line.

"Mom no, honestly you don't have to do that. I'm not on my own, I have a very anxious babysitter who is more than enough right now."

"I read an article not long ago about football players and head injuries, your father was right, I wish I'd never allowed you to start playing." Ah Dad, my biggest supporter. I sigh deeply, which I fucking regret because my chest hurts a lot right now.

"I'd have played anyway mom, Uncle Tommy would have taken me behind your back." I hear a deep chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Am I on speaker?"

"Right you are kid. I came round to keep your mom company for the game, you know what she gets like." A nervous wreck. I laugh, before I ask the dreaded question.

"Where's dad?" There's silence on the other end of the line.

"Your father had to take a work trip. Him and his junior partner, Mikaela." Mom's tone is resigned.

Mikaela, she was new. The old dog still had it. Nausea twisted in my stomach, none concussion related. Just the usual sickness that accompanied talking about the dude I was related to.