June 2, 2019

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Dear Future Husband,

Please tell me he's going to be ok.

Please.

I know this sounds weird coming from your wife asking for help for her boyfriend, but I really need your hope right now.

Grant got hit bad by a defender twice his size and was laying on the field not moving.

I had to get up to try to get closer to see what was happening, but so many people were crowded around him on the field. After thirty seconds of nothing, I was panicking too much and jumped over the fence to get into the field despite everyone yelling for me to stop, and I sprinted out to where he was.

"Let me through!" I said as I pushed through the many teammates huddled around him.

I had finally made some headway and saw Grant's feet when a massive guy still in his helmet stood in my way.

"Move, Brandon." I said with authority.

"Alina, go back to the stands, he will be okay." He said, putting his hands on my shoulders. "You didn't have to come out here."

He was right, I didn't. I don't know why I did. He had gotten hurt like this before in games and I just stood by patiently for him to slowly get up again, everyone cheering as he made it back to the bench. Something just came over me and I panicked. I don't know why but something wasn't right. "Just let me see him." I couldn't back down now, I had already made a fool of myself.

He sighed, pulling his hands from my shoulders. "I can't help you if coach kicks you out." He said before stepping aside.

By this point, most of the other players had been sent back to the benches to take a knee, leaving me, Brandon, and the two coaches.

Grant was splayed on the ground like he had just been flattened by a truck, head drooped to the side with his eyes slightly visible through the rungs of his helmet. They were cracked open slightly as his chest rose and fell heavily, at least he was breathing.

"Grant, can you hear me?" His coach asked, water bottle ready in hand.

We all waited with bated breath for a response when we saw his hand twitch, not a huge response but a response nonetheless.

"'Lina-" He croaked ever so softly, almost inaudible if it weren't for the heavy silence.

I took that as my cue that I could be useful and I knelt on the ground next to him, putting my palm next to his as not to move him too much. "I'm right here, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear." He said back in a hoarse whisper, a small smile cracking onto his mouth.

"Black," His coach said, kneeling next to me. "How we feeling? Can you move your hands? Your feet? Any pain?"

"Yeah, I'm good," He replied, lifting his hand on top of mine and bending a knee for affirmation.

We all took a sigh of relief. Paralysis is always the biggest worry with things like this, but we're past that now.

"Do you want to sit up?" I asked him.

He nodded slowly and I took his hand while the coaches supported his back, slowly getting him into the upright position. I pulled off his helmet very slowly, his sweaty hair flopping out.

"Do you feel dizzy? Headache? Weak?" Coach handed him the water bottle.

He shook his head as he squirted water into his mouth. "I'm fine, just took a pretty bad hit."

Brandon helped him up and he slowly walked back to the bench, the crowd clapping as the rest of the players stood from their places on their knees.

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