Nothing Else Matters (18 page)

Scott wasn’t among the players that had exited the locker room. He was probably still inside trying to psyche himself up. He’d been doing that a lot lately. It probably took more and more strength and energy to force himself out on the field as the Lupus continued to degenerate his joints.

She found him sitting on a bench staring into his helmet.

“Hey Scottie,” she said, upon entering.

Scott jumped up and starting putting on his helmet. He wouldn’t look at her.

“I think we should talk.”

He responded by securing his helmet and closing the locker that housed his street clothes.

“Scottie, please don’t go out there. You don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t have to win for them. You need to take care of yourself.”

Shaking his head Scottie said, “Reyna, I’ve already made up my mind. There’s a scout out there. We need this victory. We’re missing four of our best players. There’s no other way. I have to play.”

“Scottie, the Lupus is affecting your balance, your flexibility, and your reaction time. You’re gonna get creamed out there. Your lung could collapse. Do you understand how serious that is? You can’t risk it. I can’t … What am I … If something happens … ” Reyna fought back tears. She had to keep it together and be strong. She had to reason with him.

“I’m surprised you’re even here. Why aren’t you out with Derek? You don’t care about me.”

Reyna felt like she’d been slapped in the face. She tried not to take the insult personally. She knew he was in pain and lashing out at anything and everything was his way of coping. But she felt hurt, nonetheless.

“Scottie, you know I feel about you,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t sweep her into a kiss like she’d hoped. Instead, he stared at his hand and flexed his fingers. His joints probably ached.

“Scottie, you mean more to me than anything in the world. I couldn’t care less if you win the championship or not. Why isn’t that enough?”

“Why can’t you understand that it’s not about you?” he snapped.

Reyna stepped back, hurt once again by his response. She didn’t want him to know how his words affected her so she struck back.

“You know what? Fine. Go ahead and kill yourself over a goddamn game. See if I care. I can’t watch this.” She threw her hands up in defeat and stormed out of the locker room.

Several emotions coursed through her body as she barreled her way through spectators toward the parking lot. She felt angry, hurt, helpless, but most of all scared.

Reyna paced in front of her car in the parking lot. With keys in hand she debated whether to stay or go. She didn’t want to sit by and watch him get hurt, but she did want to be at his side in case something happened. She was torn. The national anthem started playing. Any second, Scottie would be jogging out onto the field and starting his bull headed journey to victory or to death.

While her mind rallied through the possibilities, she spied Amber and Derek talking again next to his car. Amber and Derek together twice in one day? Something was definitely up. 

As soon as Reyna approached, Amber stormed off. Derek leaned against his car with his arms crossed staring at the ground. She decided she needed to find out what was going on.

“Derek. What the hell? What’s up between you and Amber?” The anger she felt toward the Scott situation transferred in an instant to unsuspecting Derek.

“Trust me, Rey. You don’t want to know.”

“Why don’t you just tell me and then I’ll be the judge of that.” Reyna folded her arms and scolded him with her eyes. She knew she really didn’t have a right to demand anything of him, but in that moment she didn’t care.

“I can’t hang on to this guilt any longer anyway.” He brushed his hands over his shaven head and said, “Amber was the one who made the banner.”

I knew it, Reyna thought. She had a sudden urge to stuff some pom-poms down Amber’s throat. But before she could take care of Amber, a question surged in her mind that begged to be answered.

“Derek, why would you feel guilt over something Amber did?”

He sighed then said, “Because I helped her.”

“What? Why would you do that?” Reyna’s mind struggled to grasp what she was hearing. He had caused the controversy then acted just as outraged as everyone else. How could he do something like that?

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he said, quoting the ancient proverb.

“What are you talking about?”

“Amber wanted Scott. I wanted you.”

Heat rushed into Reyna’s face. Not from flattery, but from anger. His own selfish desires had sent the entire school into chaos, caused countless tears, and made Scott feel obligated to play in a game that could kill him. Without thinking, Reyna reared back, and then punched him in the face.

 She couldn’t help it. She just couldn’t understand why he would do something like that.

“Okay, I guess I deserved that,” he said, holding his nose. “I’m sorry. I just thought it would make you break up with Scott and then I would have a chance with you. I was right.”

She breathed in deeply trying to restrain herself from punching him again. He was right. She had let racial pressure affect her relationship with Scott. And the racial conflict turned out to be fabricated. Shaking her head she said, “You have to fix this. You have to fix it now. There are a lot of people hurting over this.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Come with me.”

Reyna just didn’t understand me. She didn’t understand that I didn’t have a choice. It’s not like I wanted to play this game. I had to. What was I supposed to do? Go tell Coach or Sam that I didn’t feel good? I would sound like a weak complaining baby. Sam would laugh outright. Coach would just think I was nervous.

And after reading about Lupus all night, I realized that this might be my final game. No school would want me on their team in my condition. If this was going to be my last game, I was going to make it one to remember.

When the opposing team made the kick off to us, I noticed Reyna slink onto the sideline and take a seat next to Doc. A tinge of guilt crowded my mind. I was putting her through hell. No matter how much she wanted to avoid this situation, she couldn’t leave me completely. She wanted to make sure I was okay.

Per Sam’s instructions I was set to play offense, defense, and special teams. This basically meant that I would be on the field all night. An exhausting prospect for any athlete, but especially for me who had
doctor’s
instructions to not play at all.

Freddie caught the ball then did a lateral to me. I ran like my life depended on it past defender after defender of Laughlin Academy. My life did kind of depend on it. I couldn’t risk getting tackled. When I made it into the other team’s end zone, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers. I had scored a touchdown within the first minute of the game.

In the end zone, I leaned over with my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath. It proved more difficult than usual. My chest ached. I thought my lungs would explode. One run down the length of the football field and I was already exhausted. I looked up in the stands and saw my mother sitting in the front row next to an unidentified man who must have been the Notre Dame scout. She
pursed
her lips into a tight line and gestured for me to move. Apparently, I had been resting too long.  I could hear her already calling me weak and lazy during her inevitable half-time tirade.

I looked over at Reyna. She was on her feet and wore an expression of worry. More for her sake than for my mother’s I got myself together and jogged to the bench.

***

Reyna was ready to pull her hair out. Only five minutes into the game and Scottie already had trouble breathing. How could no one realize this? How could no one see he was in trouble? She glanced over at Amber Freaking Sullivan, who was standing on someone’s shoulders yelling the fight song, and wanted to spit fire at her. How could she date him for two months and know nothing about him? How could she not tell he was in pain?

Scott went to sit down on the bench for a moment then had to jump back up to play defense. After the first play she could tell his thinking. He was going to play smart and intercept every pass. He was just fast enough to do it. But how long would this last?

She jumped to her feet when the crowd started screaming. He’d intercepted the ball and was now running toward another touchdown. A member of the other team was right on his tail. Reyna feared the worst. He’d be tackled, collapse a lung, lose oxygen to his brain, have a seizure and die right there on the field. She fought hard to hold back her emotion. Tears threatened to gush forth. She couldn’t breathe. Thankfully, the play ended with Scott running out of bounds. No tackle.

A time-out was called.

“Are you okay Reyna?” Doc asked, studying her face.

She shook her head. “No! I’m not okay. He could die out there.” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and cried into Doc’s arms.

“Come with me,” he said, leading her off the field.

“I’m not lying, Doc,” she said once they had reached the locker room.  “He’s really sick. He’s the one that’s lying because he feels obligated to play. You have to stop him.”

Doc pinched his chin. He seemed to be studying her words. “I’m inclined to believe you now. I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you get this emotional.” He sat down on a bench obviously weighing his options. “The problem is Coach Reed. He’ll never take Scott out of a championship game without a solid reason. Is there any way you can get some kind of proof from Scott’s doctor?”

Reyna wiped tears from her eyes as she filled with hope. “I’ll find Stu and get his number.” She dashed out of the locker room in search of Stu.

She found him where he usually hung out during games. Behind the bleachers smoking with his friends. Stu normally didn’t smoke for fear that the nicotine would show up in the urine samples he provided for Scott. But that night, Reyna could tell he was so nervous for his brother, he needed a fix.

“Stu, I need info on Scott’s doctor. Doc will pull him from the game if I can get an official order.”

“Here, I have him on speed dial.” Stu tossed his cigarette and fished his phone out of his pocket.

Thankfully, Dr. Schaeffer was the doctor on call at the medical university hospital. After they paged him, she was able to speak with him directly.

“What do you mean he’s playing tonight?” he asked once Reyna explained the situation. “I gave him strict instructions not to. He doesn’t understand what he’s dealing with. Let me speak to his coach.”

Reyna kept one eye on the field as she ran back to the sideline in search of Coach Reed. Scott was in trouble. She could tell he was looking for an opening so he could run it in again. But apparently, Laughlin had decided to shut Scottie down. Three defenders chased him out of the pocket. He searched for a teammate to throw to, but no one was open. Then the unthinkable happened. Scott was sacked. Laughlin Academy’s number 37 barreled directly into Scott’s chest.

“No!” Reyna screamed.

The ball flew out of Scott’s hand. Laughlin recovered the fumble and ran toward a touchdown. In the excitement, most people didn’t notice that Scott wasn’t moving.

“What happened?” Dr. Schaeffer said over the phone.

“He’s down. He’s not moving. Oh God, he’s not moving.”

“Okay, listen to me very carefully, Reyna. This is extremely important. If Scott’s not breathing you have to tell —” Just then the phone was knocked out of her hand by a player running onto the field. Reyna dropped to her knees to find the phone as the crowd grew silent realizing something was wrong with Scott. She looked up and saw several players bending over him. One of them took off Scott’s helmet and checked for a pulse.