Wild Crush

  The nurse has the needles and tubes set in front of her. "So I hear homecoming is this weekend. Do you have a date and a dress?"

  "I have both," I tell her.

  "How exciting!"

  I shrug. "I guess." I don't tell her that my boyfriend and I broke up but I'm still going with him to keep up appearances.

  The nurse tries to make more small talk as she starts the IV. I'll be here for two hours, which sucks. But afterward the inflammation and pain in my joints will subside, at least for a little while. I'm excited about that.

  I'm not excited about the side effects of Remicade, the medicine about to drip into my body. Last time I puked and had a headache for days. I also wanted to sleep, because I felt like I had no energy and couldn't even keep my eyes open. I hope this time is different.

  The nurse puts the IV in my vein. I turn away, but my mom watches as if the medicine will cure her daughter. There is no cure though.

  As soon as my mom leaves and the medicine is dripping slowly into my body, I settle back into the big leather recliner at the hospital and close my eyes. Being here makes me feel like I'm incapable of living a normal life without meds. I don't know how anyone in their right mind would take meds if they didn't need them.

  Like Trey.

  Leaning my head back, I imagine I'm anywhere else but here.

  "I don't understand how someone who can hardly move without meds wants to be a mechanic."

  I quickly jerk my eyes open at the sound of Vic Salazar's voice. He's standing in front of me, staring at the Remicade drip. Ugh. "What are you doing here?"

  "I figured I'd keep you company," he says, sitting in the chair my mom abandoned a few minutes ago.

  "How... I didn't... you shouldn't be here, Vic. I told you not to tell anyone about my condition."

  "Relax. I didn't blab."

  I look over at him. He's got his hands crossed on his chest as if he's a sentry looking after me.

  "Aren't you supposed to be in school? How did you know I was here? How did you get a visitor's pass up here?"

  He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be in school. I was called into Finnigan's office and heard the attendance office get the call from your mom that you were in the hospital for treatment today. I got up here 'cause I mentioned my dad's name to the receptionist in the lobby. He's kinda given a shitload of donations to this place."

  "You're going to get in trouble for ditching," I tell him.

  He winks at me, and butterflies dance around in my stomach. "Ask me the last time I cared about gettin' into trouble?"

  My throat is dry as he steps closer. "Why did you come here?"

  "To convince you that it's stupid to work at Enrique's Auto Body. You'll end up hurtin' yourself."

  My spirits lower at his words. "You have no faith in me, just like Trey."

  "Oh, I have faith in you, Monika. I think you can do whatever the hell you want to do. I just think it'll end up with you regrettin' it. Look at you," he says, gesturing to the drip going into my veins. "I'm your friend. Listen to me and don't work at a place that could land you in the hospital. Or worse."

  "Thanks for caring, Vic. But I'm going to do this whether you tell me to or not."

  "You're stubborn like my cousin," he says, disappointed. "Your ego is in the way of all reason. I know this is gonna sound corny, but we'll be on this earth for less than a hundred years, then our time is up. I don't want you to waste it doin' things that aren't worth your time. I like workin' at the shop. You're doin' it just to prove you can. That's not a good enough reason."

  The nurse comes in to take my blood pressure. "I see we have a visitor," she says. "Are you the boyfriend taking her to homecoming?"

  Vic shakes his head, then looks away.

  "No," I say, my face turning red at the thought of Vic being my boyfriend. "He's just a friend."

  The nurse checks my vitals. "Well, he's a mighty special friend to sit here with you while you go through treatment."

  "Yeah," I say, briefly wondering what it would feel like to have a guy like Vic as my boyfriend. I quickly toss that thought away as I look at the monitor and see my blood pressure rising quickly. "He is mighty special."

  I wish he wouldn't have come here just to convince me to give up on working at the auto body shop. I guess if I wanted someone to believe in me, I'd want it to be Vic.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  VICTOR

  On Thursday after school, Dieter tells all of us to gather around him in the locker room before we suit up for practice.

  "Tomorrow isn't just homecoming. It'll be one of our biggest games," Coach Dieter tells us. He stands in the middle of the locker room, scanning the team as if he's sizing us up. "We're playing our biggest rivals. I've been hearing rumblings that Fairfield High is better than us. Is that true?"

  "No, Coach!" we say in unison.

  Our enthusiasm doesn't convince him.

  "I don't know," Dieter says. "The way some of you have been playing during practice, I'm not sure you want it." He writes WINNERS on the white board in bold, black marker. "You don't become winners by being lazy during practice. Don't practice as if it's homecoming, don't practice as if it's for the state championship. You should play like you're a team in the damn NFL. Put in all your effort, energy, passion, and skill. Each and every one of you. Anything less means you're not playing up to your potential. It means you might as well get off my field, because you don't deserve to be on it. Now, when you go out there today, I want to be looking at winners. Because that's what I think you are. The question is, do you have what it takes?" He holds a hand up. "I don't want you to tell me, gentlemen. Show me. Your performance speaks louder than words."

  While Dieter's message sinks in, he takes his clipboard and leaves the locker room. The assistant coaches follow him.

  It's quiet now.

  "We have to win tomorrow," Ashtyn says. "To show Fairfield and that traitor of a quarterback Landon McKnight that the team he abandoned is stronger without him."

  "We're gonna win," I assure her.

  "Not the way you've been playing lately," Trey says with a chuckle.

  "Trey, I can tackle you with both my eyes closed," I tell him, meeting the challenge.

  "You've got to catch me first, man." He pats me on the shoulder. "Not easy with those two left feet you got there."

  "You do fall down a lot," Jet says with a big grin.

  "The last time I fell down I was drunk, Jet," I say.

  "Yeah, well, drunk or not, Trey here is a beast."

  Trey flexes his muscles, then kisses each bicep. "Face the facts, Vic. I'm faster and stronger than you."

  My friends and I have perfected trash talking over the years. "Facts? Hell, the fact is that I'm gonna kill you on that field today, Matthews."

  Trey laughs. "Yeah, right. The only way you'll kill me is with a gun, man, 'cause you can't catch me with those slow feet of yours." Trey brushes off fake lint from his shoulders before putting on his practice jersey and pads.

  Slow? Nobody has ever called me slow. I can tackle someone and still bring down a QB without him knowing what hit him.

  Derek, who's usually just a spectator when it comes to me and Trey challenging each other, points to us. "As Dieter said, your performance will speak for itself."

  As I walk out of the locker room all dressed and ready for practice, all I can think about is proving to everyone that I'm worth something... on the field, at least. Nobody can outrun or outplay me.

  Not even Trey Matthews.

  Trey is walking next to me, but then says, "I'll be right back, man. I forgot something."

  "Where you goin'?" I ask. "Runnin' away already?"

  "You wish," he calls out over his shoulder. "I just forgot something in my locker."

  If he's late for practice, Dieter will rip him a new one, then make him run laps and do push-ups just for fun.

  By the time Trey rushes back, we're all in line about to do warm-ups. As our captain, Ashtyn leads us in j
umping jacks then stretching. I glance over at the cheerleaders, practicing in front of the bleachers. I should look away, because when Monika turns around and watches us, my adrenaline starts pumping hard through my veins and my groin twitches in response.

  She ignites something in me that no girl has ever been able to do. Not even Cassidy. Not by a long shot.

  "You checking out my girlfriend?" Trey says in a mocking tone. When I shake my head he laughs. "Dude, I was just jesting. I know you asked Cassidy to homecoming. I knew you still had the hots for her."

  I don't, but whatever.

  Trey and I stand in line for sprints.

  When it's our turn to face off, I look at him, ready to do my best to beat his ass.

  He pats me on the back. "See you on the other side, bro."

  This feels like war.

  Or at least a growing competition between me and Trey. In medieval times, I'd have wagered for Monika.

  But these aren't the medieval times.

  And Monika isn't a possession to be bartered for.

  Once again, I glance over to where she's standing by the cheerleaders. Her attention is focused our way.

  When Dieter blows his whistle, I sprint alongside Trey, wanting to win so fucking bad. My legs pound on the grass and my arms pump fast.

  It's over quick. Too quick. Trey beats me by one tenth of a second.

  I put my hands on my knees and bend over, trying to catch my breath. So much for showing off. I should resign myself to the fact that I just got my ass handed to me on a silver platter.

  Trey stands beside me, hardly fazed by the sprint.

  "You're a damn machine, Matthews," I tell him while I continue to pant.

  "Face reality, Salazar. I make you a better player," he says.

  "How's that?"

  "Without me, who'd be around to challenge your ass?" He holds his arms out wide. "What are best friends for if not to challenge you to be your best?"

  "I'm gonna bring you down if you try to run the ball," I say with a tired grin.

  "That's the spirit. I dare you."

  It isn't long before Dieter sets us up for drills and the cheerleaders on the sidelines abandon their practice and start cheering us on. For a split second I pretend that Monika is cheering me on, that she's my girlfriend.

  I'm on the defensive line now, my focus on the offensive lineman David Colton. Out of the corner of my eye I see Trey. It's not hard to figure out that he's going to be the ball carrier. He doesn't have a good poker face, and his hands are twitching.

  We line up on the line of scrimmage and Dieter blows his whistle. In a flash, I've got Colton on the ground. Derek hands off the ball to Trey. I'm not letting him get past me.

  Not this time.

  I put everything I have into running after Trey. I'm right on his heels. I've got this. With a burst of power, I tackle him, flinging my entire body on top of him as I pull him down.

  Yes!

  I'm panting like crazy and my legs feel like butter, but I don't care. I tackled Trey, the fastest high school running back in the state of Illinois. Feels damn good.

  "Take that, bro," I say the second I catch my breath.

  I stand up and hold out a hand for Trey, but he doesn't take it.

  "Trey, get up."

  He's not doing anything.

  He's not moving.

  I kneel beside him to check if he's faking. "Yo, Trey! Come on, get up, man."

  Did he pass out? Why isn't he moving? I'm confused and start panicking as dark thoughts race through my mind. My hands start to shake.

  "Coach!" I yell, waving Dieter over. "There's somethin' wrong with Trey! Hurry!"

  I don't want to touch him. I'm scared that I broke his back. I'm responsible for this. His eyes are open, but he's not conscious. He's not faking. He's passed out cold... or... I can't even think clearly right now.

  "Help him!" I yell as loud as I can before my throat closes up and I'm pulled out of the way by the trainers and Dieter. "Trey, wake up," I say, choking on the words as the world closes in on me.

  If I hurt my best friend... he's all I got.

  The trainer kneels beside Trey and puts his head close to his helmet. "Trey, can you hear me?"

  Nothing.

  I feel my entire body go numb as he quickly feels for Trey's pulse.

  "Call 911 now!" he calls out in a panic before gently pulling off Trey's helmet, lifting Trey's head back, and giving him CPR.

  No.

  I look at the ground, and it's blurry.

  Everything is blurry.

  I watch in horror as the trainer works on Trey, counting as he and Dieter alternate pushing on his chest and breathing into his mouth. I scan Trey's hands and feet for any sign of movement, but I don't see any.

  This can't be happening. I rub my eyes, hoping that this is all a nightmare and I'll wake up. Or it's a joke that everyone is playing on me.

  But it's not a joke.

  And I'm not sleeping.

  I back away from the crowd when I hear the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance. One thought keeps running through my head over and over again, like a chant.

  This is my fault.

  This is my fault.

  This is my fault.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  MONIKA

  "What's going on over there?" Bree asks as she points to commotion on the football field.

  "Looks like someone is hurt," another girl says. "I wonder who it is."

  "Sucks to be injured the day before the homecoming game," Bree says, then tosses her pom-poms in the air and catches them. "Right, Monika?"

  "Right," I mumble as I crane my neck to see if I can catch a glimpse of who's on the ground. It's common to see a player down, so I don't freak out.

  Until I see all the guys on the team take a knee.

  This can't be good.

  I hear an ambulance siren getting closer. Vic is standing like a statue, away from the crowd, watching the scene. I know something horrible has happened just by his stance and the shocked look on his face.

  I rush out to the field, my mind racing with horrible scenarios. When I get closer, I see the number on the player's jersey.

  Thirty-four.

  "Trey!" His name comes out of my mouth in a pained scream.

  I rush over to him, but am immediately held back by Jet and Derek. The dire, sullen looks on their faces make my heart sink and my body go still.

  "Monika, you shouldn't watch," Derek says quietly as he shields me from the scene.

  "What's wrong with Trey? What happened?" I cry out as I struggle against their attempts to keep me away from him. "Tell me!"

  Jet hugs me in a tight grip. "They're working on him, Monika. Just calm down."

  I claw at them, unable to control myself. "I don't want to calm down. Trey! Oh, God! What's going on?" Trey is lying on the ground, limp and lifeless. Someone's giving him CPR, but why?

  What happened?

  Suddenly Ashtyn is in my line of sight. She rushes over to me with eyes full of tears. "Oh, God!" she cries out.

  "What's wrong with him?" I ask frantically as I feel hot tears streaming down my face. "Will he be okay? Tell me he'll be okay! I need you to tell me that he'll be okay, Ash." I look to Jet, my vision blurry now. "Please..."

  No matter if we broke up, Trey is still a part of me. We've been together for over three years, experienced so many things together.

  "He's getting help," Derek says, but those words aren't good enough.

  "I need to go to him," I cry out.

  Ashtyn puts her hands on either side of my face. "Monika, he's hurt."

  "What happened?" I ask. I can't help but sob uncontrollably.

  "He was tackled," she says, her own face showing how distraught she is. "I don't know what's going on. He's not moving."

  "I need to help him. Please let me help him," I cry out. "Please."

  "They're doing everything they can, honey," she says. "I don't know what's going on."

 
"Are you sure?" I need to have reassurances that he's going to come out of this unscathed.

  "He's strong," Ash tells me. "If anyone can handle a hard hit, it's Trey."

  But she doesn't say what I want to hear, what I need to hear: that he'll be okay. A part of me feels responsible for this.

  An ambulance drives onto the field.

  "I want to see him. Please let me see him," I cry out, barely aware that my voice sounds like a hysterical crazy person.

  But they don't let me see him.

  It seems like the entire team is blocking my view and telling me to calm down. I can't control the sobs coming from my mouth or the fact that I'm shaking uncontrollably. My body feels like ice.

  As the ambulance drives away with Trey inside, my knees give out and I collapse on the field. Ashtyn is right next to me, along with Derek and Jet.

  "Take a deep breath, Monika," Ashtyn says, her words shaky. "Come on, do it. I'll do it with you."

  "Okay," I say, my voice trembling. I'm trying to catch my breath, but it's not working. I try to breathe deep with Ashtyn.

  But I'm a mess right now.

  I can't think straight.

  I need to calm down or I'm not going to be useful to anyone. Attempting to get my emotions under control, I can't look at my friend's faces. They show too much sorrow and defeat, as if they know there's bad news and they're trying to hold it inside.

  "We need to go to the hospital," I tell them, debilitating panic bubbling right below the surface. "Right now."

  "I'll carry her," Jet says, but I shoo him away.

  "I got this."

  I get up and see that Victor is standing by the goal line. He strips off his jersey and pads, leaving them on the field.

  "Vic!" Ashtyn calls out. "We're going to the hospital. Come with us."

  He turns away as if he doesn't hear her, then runs off.

  Jet cups his hands around his mouth. "Yo, Vic!" he yells.

  "I'll bet he blames himself," Ashtyn says. "Someone's got to talk to him."

  "Take Monika to the hospital," Derek instructs. "We'll meet you there."

  Derek and Jet run after Vic. It's chaotic and confusing at the same time. I don't know what to do or think. Our friends don't know Trey and I broke up and they don't know he'd been taking drugs. Too many thoughts are running through my head. Did the pills have something to do with this? Should I break my promise and tell someone about them?

  When we get to the hospital fifteen minutes later, I rush inside the emergency room. "Where's Trey?" I ask the coaching staff, who are all waiting in the lobby. "Is he okay?"