Page 14 of Dibs
“Sure.”
“How about we switch things up? I’ll team up with Richards against you two,” Chase suggested.
“I thought it was always roommates versus roommates. Isn’t that what you said last night?” Richards questioned.
Chase shook his head. “That’s just for pool.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if Chase wasn’t okay with what had happened the night before and had just been playing it cool earlier.
“Sounds good, but don’t come crying to me when Statler and I kick your asses,” Campbell responded.
“Want to wager our usual?” Richards asked.
I shrugged. “Sure. I could use an extra twenty bucks.”
Campbell chose to be the quarterback and I ran down the beach, trying to get open for him. Chase was coming up quick behind me, so I planted my foot to turn and heard a loud pop before a sharp pain radiated through my knee. I dropped to the ground and rolled around in agony.
“Dude, what happened?” Chase fell to the sand beside me.
“It’s my knee,” I gritted out as a sheen of sweat formed on my brow.
“Campbell, go get your Jeep. Richards, help me get him up,” Chase called out to our teammates. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
Campbell ran to the parking lot as Chase and Richards pulled me up. I wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, placing most of my weight on them as they walked me up the beach to where Campbell waited for us.
“I’ll go grab our stuff,” Richards said as Chase helped me into the front seat of the Jeep.
Once we had everything, Chase grabbed some ice from the cooler and wrapped it in his T-shirt before placing it on my knee.
“Hold that on there,” he ordered then climbed into the backseat.
The drive passed by in a blur, the pain not allowing me to focus on anything else. Once we pulled up to the emergency room, Chase hopped out. “I’ll go grab a wheelchair.”
It was harder to get out of the Jeep than it had been to get in. The pain had intensified, and I couldn’t put any weight on my leg. Chase wheeled me up to the registration desk while I assumed Campbell and Richards went to park.
“Go ahead and take a seat. We’ll get you called back as soon as possible,” the receptionist stated.
“Do you want me to call anyone for you? Your parents maybe?” Chase asked as we waited.
I shook my head. “Nah. No need to worry them until I know exactly what’s going on.”
He nodded and turned his attention to the TV in the corner.
A few minutes later Campbell and Richards came in and sat with us.
“Don’t be mad,” Campbell said. “But we called Coach to let him know what was going on.”
“What? Why?”
“He sent out a text to the team, reminding everyone to stay safe over the holiday weekend,” Richards explained. “We thought it might be better to tell him now rather than later. You know he’d be pissed if we didn’t say anything.”
They were right, but I didn’t look forward to our conversation the next time I saw Coach.
Forty-five minutes later, I was called back. After answering a few routine questions and waiting for the doctor, one finally came into the room to check me out. “Hi, I’m Dr. Chisolm.” She walked to the computer and pulled up what I assumed was my file. “It says you’re here for a knee injury?”
“Yeah, something popped while I was playing football on the beach.”
She asked me a series of questions about what I’d heard and felt and performed a couple of physical tests that hurt like a bitch.
