Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Uh-huh.” He shined a light in my eyes, then glanced at the machine recording my oxygen level. “Have you felt this way before today?”
I nodded. “I’ve also been waking up drenched in sweat, sometimes with a headache.”
“How long has this been going on?” Mom asked in an alarmed tone.
“Maybe a month?” I admitted. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew… I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”
Mom reached for my hand. “Oh, honey.”
The doctor cleared his throat as if reluctant to intrude on a private moment. “Have you been under any amount of stress?”
“Well, I have college and football, so…”
He arched an eyebrow. “Any undue amount of stress?”
My shoulders dropped. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling pretty stressed lately.”
“I’ll run some tests, and we’ll talk after.” He looked at my parents. “I’m going to recommend we admit your son for the night just to be safe.”
I didn’t argue this time.
When he left, Dad stepped bedside, a range of emotions on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I told them. “But things have been coming to a head.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“About my friendship with Lark…and the truth about my cancer. I decided to tell my teammates about how we know each other, and that felt good. Especially since I’d been feeling off for a while now. I wanted to make it to the end of the season first. To get the team into the playoffs. To make you proud.”
His forehead crinkled. “Son, I—”
“Please, let me finish,” I said, and he nodded. “But the pressure became too much. I’m not you, Dad. But I let you make all the decisions for far too long. I want to have my own college experiences, and I’m sorry if that upsets you.”
I held my breath as a look passed between my parents.
“Honey, you would never disappoint us,” Mom said, and Dad squeezed my shoulder, but he never said the words out loud. It was always Mom smoothing the way. My stomach tumbled with uncertainty.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Coach stepped through the curtain. “The guys are getting impatient and hoping for an update on their team captain.”
I smiled, glad he’d alleviated the tension between us, at least momentarily. “You can always put Spencer on the phone so I can tell him I have to stay overnight while they run tests.”
“Mind if I just send him back here so he can tell the team he actually laid eyes on you? They were so worried.”
“Spencer’s here?”
“They all are. In the waiting room.”
My heart rose to my throat. Those lovable idiots.
Well, lovable was pushing it.
37
LARK
“Right there, Mom.” I pointed with a shaking finger, feeling like I was crawling out of my skin. “The visitors’ lot.”
I wasn’t allowed to see Henry last night because by the time I got a ride to the hospital from Pete, who had agreed to wait in the parking lot with Star, visiting hours had ended. I was told to return in the morning, and thankfully, Mom was off. We had driven Star to preschool, then came directly to the hospital.
It’d been Emil who’d informed me that Henry had collapsed on the practice field, and I’d been a mess ever since. I’d tried texting him but got no response, so maybe his phone was off or ran out of battery. Apparently, his parents were with him, and he needed to stay overnight so they could run tests.
Once Mom parked and we got inside, we were directed to a bank of elevators that took us to the third floor. In the waiting room, we found a handful of teammates along with the coach. Coach nodded in our direction, and Spencer stood to greet me.
“How is he?”
“In good spirits.”
I blew out a breath, relieved.
“He’s waiting on the results from the doctor. But we’re allowed to visit him, a few at a time.”
“Mom, this is Henry’s roommate, Spencer.” Once they greeted each other, we sat down beside him. “What happened exactly?”
“He told the team about his cancer and how he knew you. And it seemed to go well.” He grimaced. “But then he sort of stumbled, and before we knew what was happening, he had passed out. Scared the shit out of us.”
“Oh my God.” Probably scared the crap out of himself too. I wished I could’ve been there for him, but how could anyone have known?
In a low voice, Spencer asked, “Do you think this has something to do with his cancer returning?”
“I don’t know. Depends on a lot of factors.” My gut churned. “He told me he had night sweats a couple of times. But there’s a lot more to it than that.”
“That would explain him laundering sheets more than usual,” Spencer replied, and I put my hand to my mouth. Should I have said something sooner? Even if I did, he was his own person, and it was up to him to get help, which he’d promised to do if it kept happening.