Page 68 of Rain Delay

I take a deep breath, tightening my grip on my bat as I step off the plate to take a practice swing, trying to let off some steam.

Stepping back in, I dig my cleat into the dirt, prepping my stance as I wait for what the next pitch will be.

The ball comes spinning, almost like a two-seamer, but it’s right in my line of contact. I drive my bat, making the sweet connection, driving it out into right field. It’s short enough that the right fielder needs to come closer to the infield, and I’m off like a speed demon.

As I race down the line, the adrenaline is pumping, and as I’m rounding the bag, the first baseman drifts into my lane while he’s tracking the throw.

I don’t see him right away, and it’s obvious he doesn’t see me before we’re colliding into one another. My shoulder checks into his, jerking me back, knees buckling as I hit the ground, my back slamming against the dirt. With no helmet to protect me, my head practically bounces off the ground, and everything just gets blurry.

I didn’t feel the pain immediately. It was more like this massive, vibrating shockwave coursing through my body.

“Bro, stay down! Don’t move!” It was Liam’s voice I could faintly hear, his voice almost sounding like he was underwater.

The stadium is eerily quiet; soft sounds of murmurs fill the void so it’s not completely silent.

I lay on my back, putting my arms over my face as the ringing sounds through my head.

The trainer is already sprinting to where I’m at, putting a hand on my shoulder as I attempt to push myself up onto my elbows.

“Wyatt? Stay down. Don’t move.”

I hate those words. I never stay down. I always got back up.

I let out a groan, fingers digging into the dirt.

“Do you know where you are?” Miles asks me, kneeling beside Liam.

“On the fucking ground,” I let out a weak laugh, but no one else is laughing with me.

“Make sure the cart is good to go.” I can hear the trainer say, and that catches my attention immediately.

“No,” I grunted, the word catching in my throat. “I can walk. I’m fine.” No way in hell was I getting carted off this fucking field.

“You’re not fine,” Coach says. “You just collided with someone, and your head slammed on the ground, Mitchell. You’re done for the night.”

Those words hit harder than the fucking ball. Done. Done? I never left a game. I’ve taken fastballs to the arms, the legs, even the face before, and I’ve finished games with no problem.

I let them help me up, Liam putting my arm around his shoulder as I walked to the dugout. The silence filled with a standing ovation, the kind of sympathetic clap fans gave when a player got up from their injuries.

I didn’t want sympathy. I wanted to finish the damn game.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off; the lights in the hallway on the way to the medical room were almost embarrassingly blinding. My vision was getting blurry, and I needed to sit down.

“Get me my phone,” I look at Liam. “I need to text Eliana…”

God, she was going to be scared shitless. She was spending the day with her parents, and the one day I need her here the most, she’s almost two hours away.

Liam nodded, his expression grim. “The last thing you need to be looking at is your phone, but I’ll get it. You go with the trainers.”

I walk into the medical room, sitting down on one of the benches as the team doctor flashes a light in my eyes, and on reflex, I shut them. “Can you not?”

“Just going through concussion protocol,” The doctor says. “I need to rule out a major concussion; you took a nasty hit. I’m surprised the other player was fine.”

“Well, I was sprinting my ass off,” I shake my head. “I don’t even understand what the hell happened.”

Liam came back in with my phone in his hand, handing it off to me. “Here, you already have messages blowing up your phone. Mainly from your mom.”

I nod slowly, holding the ice pack to the back of my neck with one hand, checking the messages with the other. They were all from my mom — freaking the hell out, asking if I need surgery, asking if I’m gonna die. The light coming from the screen is brutally painful to look at.