See Dot Smile

Ditching Plans

We spend the rest of the game huddled outside the locker room, waiting for news. I decide to text Tom just as he walks through the door. He's been crying. He looks longingly at Marcus and takes two steps toward the hug he knows he can't have, then he grabs me at the last second and squeezes me against his sweaty body.

"What happened?" Joshua asks. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Tom says into my hair. "But they're not taking care of him right." He stands back and swipes a tear from his face frustratedly. "I keep telling them he was going down before he even got hit. And that he was struggling the entire game."

"With what?" I ask.

"The same thing he's been dealing with for weeks. That I know he never saw the trainer about. Because if he had, they would be taking him to the hospital right now and not putting him through stupid concussion protocols." Tom grits his teeth and kicks the locker room door. Marcus jumps and I reach for his hand.

"His arm keeps going numb," Tom says. "And he gets dizzy, like, for no reason. When I got to him on the field, he said he was seeing double. He couldn't hold on to the ball and then he lost his balance - just standing."

Lilliana has been silent this whole time. She's a few paces behind us, clutching her textbooks to her chest and staring at the door, like she's willing Kendall to appear, smiling and wisecracking. Trying to piss her off to show how much he likes her. "We'll take him," she says.

"Take him where?" I ask.

"To the hospital," she says. "If they won't, we will."

"It's okay," Tom says. "I've been texting with his dad. They'll take him after the game. Right now, he's just embarrassed. Which is so stupid. Everyone just wants him to be okay."

The door opens behind Tom and two trainers come through, followed by Kendall, who looks smaller than I've ever seen him. Like an oversized kid who fell off his bike in front of his friends, and just wants them to stop staring so he can cry about it in private.

We're all clinging to him in a matter of seconds, like barnacles on the hull of a ship. Even Marcus finds a spot between me and Tom that has them touching each other in a way they've never touched in the school building. But Tom can't even celebrate the moment because there's too much hurt and fear in him right now.

"I'm okay, guys. Seriously," Kendall says so quietly I don't even recognize the voice as his. "I just want to go home and take it easy."

"What about the hospital?" Lilliana says, more forcefully than she probably meant to. "You're not going to ignore this. That would be fucking stupid."

"My dad's going to take me in the morning," he says. "I just want to sit on my couch and eat tacos for the rest of the night." He spreads his arms out and tries to hug all five of us at once. He can almost do it. "You guys want to come hang out with me? I know there's the dance-"

"Yes," Lilliana says. "We'll all come. Fuck the dance."

Kendall laughs. "It's your dance, Lilly. Don't you want to be there to see it be awesome."

"I'm know where I'm supposed to be," she says, meeting his eyes and threatening to bring tears to them, which would be a miracle. I've never once seen Kendall even get misty. He takes his job as the rock of our group very seriously.

We barnacles start to fall away, and we all agree to meet up at Kendall's in an hour.

Brent is already halfway to the car, heading to a party at the Hamiltons, when I catch up to tell him we're leaving with Lilliana and Marcus. He forgot he drove us to the game in the first place. I tell him not to get behind the wheel if he's going to be drinking (which of course he will be) and that I love him. A lot. He gives me a funny look and says he loves me, too. Then he kisses Joshua full on the lips, so we both remember who we're dealing with.

The car ride to Kendall's is quiet. Joshua and I hold hands in the backseat, but there's nothing sexy about it. We're just trying to keep each other steady.

As we drive through town, we pass H-Hop and my heart jumps into my throat.

"Oh shit, Bud!" I burst out.

"What about him?" Lilliana asks, ready for an argument already.

"I told him we'd be at H-Hop at six. He's going to be waiting there all by himself."

"And?"

"And," I say, "that's shitty. We should go back and let him know we're not coming."

"Why?"

I hate when Lilliana gets like this. She knows she's right about where my head should be, but instead of saying that she's going to make me figure it out on my own and ultimately admit it out loud. But I'm not going down without a fight.

"Because we're ditching him," I say.

"We're not ditching him. You have to have plans with someone to ditch them."

"We did have plans," I argue. "I told him we were going there and that he should meet us. That's making a plan. Just turn around so I can run in and tell him we're not going to make it."

"No. I'm not turning around for Bud. Sorry, Dot."

I growl frustratedly. Joshua squeezes my hand, but it doesn't help. "Does anyone have his phone number?" I ask.

Everyone says "no" in unison.

"Fuck." I picture Bud sitting in a booth alone, picking at a salad he doesn't want to eat because he can't even eat pizza, which I completely forgot about when I invited him there to get screwed over by us.

"Why do you care so much?" Lilliana asks. "It's Bud. He'll get over it."

"Why do you not care at all?" I shoot back. "He's a person, you guys. And we're being total assholes right now."

"You could text Brent and see if he'll swing by and give him a heads up," Joshua suggests.

I scoff. "Yeah right. Like I'd subject Bud to my fuckwit brother. Brent's probably six shots in at the Hamiltons already, and I told him not to drive."

"Well, then, there's nothing we can do," Joshua says. I bristle. "It's okay, Dot. Bud can figure this out. He's a big boy."

I jerk my hand away and glare at him. "Don't make fat jokes about him! That's so mean!"

"I wasn't," Joshua flusters. "I just meant that he's ... capable. I'm sure he'll figure out we aren't coming and then he'll go to the dance, like he was probably going to do anyway." He reaches for my hand again, but I keep it out of his reach. He sighs.

The car goes silent, and I swallow over a lump in my throat. I don't know why I'm getting so upset about this. Maybe I'm really upset about Kendall and it's seeping into everything else and making things seem like a bigger deal than they are.

But something is tugging at me. This is a big deal for Bud, and we're treating it like it's not. And I feel sick about it.

"Dot," Lilliana says in her calm victory voice. "Kendall needs us right now."

"I know," I concede. "You're right."

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