Everything Has Changed

by Mia Kayla

  Every part of me wanted to stand and wildly wave my arms to tell him that I was here to support him, to cheer him on. But he’d never see me through this massive crowd. And I couldn’t because we’d stopped talking. I’d laid it all out on the table, and in the end, it had been his choice to let me go.

  It was the third quarter, and I stood in the middle of the raucous crowd, joining in on cheering on the New York Cougars. I couldn’t leave when the game was getting good.

  Jimmy was a force to be reckoned with. He’d been killing it on the field. He’d made play after play, bringing the team to three touchdowns. The score was twenty-one to three.

  Now, it was the bottom of the third quarter, and the Cougars had the ball again. I knew he had memorized every play in the book, and I wondered what he was going to do next.

  The boys broke from their huddle and returned to their spots on the field. Jimmy crouched low behind the center player, holding up two fingers. Getting back into position, he called the play, the ball snapped, and he effortlessly caught it. I immediately jumped to my feet, screaming his praises.

  He jogged backward, searching for an open player. My heart rate sped up in my chest as I squeezed my hands together. The sea of people hollered around me. Jimmy veered left and then right, but he couldn’t find an open receiver to throw to, so he started to run. I got up on my seat, standing on the edge.

  “Go! Go! Run, Jimmy!” I yelled like he could hear me. I was so loud that my voice felt hoarse, making the back of my throat dry.

  Just when two linebackers began to corner him in, Jimmy pulled his arm back before tossing the ball to an open receiver. A linebacker dashed left to tackle Jimmy, but he wasn’t fast enough. The ball soared through the air, and suddenly, everything felt like it was happening in slow motion.

  I held my breath forever as I watched the play unfold. With the ball in the air, the other linebacker was still heading for Jimmy. Just as the receiver caught the ball, making a first down, that linebacker charged Jimmy, tackling him to the ground.

  I jolted forward as I felt the impact of that hit. As though it had happened to me, the air was knocked out of me.

  The linebacker got up, but Jimmy lay motionless on the field.

  I waited for him to get up.

  Get up. Get up!

  Jimmy lay, unmoving, on the ground. For one, two, three…

  I stopped counting after a minute or so. I stood, frozen, barely breathing. My hand flew to my mouth. I didn’t think an entire stadium could come to a standstill, but it had. An eerie hush stretched out through the crowd as we waited for the Cougars’ quarterback to get up.

  But nothing happened. He remained still, unmoving. My heartbeat slowed to a sluggish beat as my body trembled. I dropped my hands in front of me, squeezing them together to keep me steady.

  In the midst of my fear, the crowd began to chant, “Jim. Jim. Jim.”

  I’d think the sound of his fans cheering his name would have had him on his feet by now, but still, there was nothing.

  Before I could understand what I was doing, I flew down the stairs, two at a time, pushing everyone out of my way.

  “Jimmy!” I screamed, frantic. “Jimmy!” I yelled his name, over and over, until the back of my throat felt like sandpaper. I didn’t know why I screamed like he could hear me. Maybe I just wanted him to know I was here.

  I stopped at the base of the stairs and looked around me, searching for something, anything, divine intervention maybe. I’d never felt so helpless as my eyes moved back to the field where the few people were congregated around him.

  Dread washed over me, paralyzing me in my spot. I sent a prayer to my father, to my grandfather, as I watched him lying motionless on the ground. A group of four surrounded him, hovering around him and blocking my view. I sensed they were asking him questions, yet he didn’t seem conscious at all.

  Please, please, please let him be okay.

  When two men rolled in the stretcher, panic rose in me, and I started to tremble. The stretcher brought traumatizing memories of the day when the paramedics had wheeled my father into the ambulance from our home. Not knowing what was happening was the worst. I could still hear my mother’s wails ringing in my ears as I’d driven, following the ambulance, to the hospital, only to find out that the doctors couldn’t save him.

  Salt touched my lips from the tears falling down my cheeks. I didn’t even wait for them to carry Jimmy off the field. I started to run down the stairs and back in the stadium by the concession stands.

  I sobbed as my shoes slapped against the concrete. I carelessly shoved past people waiting in the vendor lines and headed down more stairs. I needed to get to the locker rooms, but I wasn’t sure where that was. I’d only been in there once.

  In that moment, all I knew was that I needed to get to him. I had to make sure he was okay, he was whole, he was safe. He had to know I was here and that I hadn’t missed his game, that I’d kept my promise.

  I stopped at the end of the hall, confused as to where I was heading. I shook my head to focus. Realization that I would never make it near the locker rooms seeped into me because I’d need a badge.

  More tears flooded my face. My shoulders slumped as I rested against the concrete wall, not knowing what to do. I slid down, my butt hitting the floor, and I unzipped my oversized purse to grab some tissue. I dug to the bottom and kept digging around. When I came up empty—or maybe I was just becoming hysterical—I dumped all my belongings on the dirty cement of the stadium floor, next to a dark wad of gum that had probably been stuck on the floor for months. I sifted through the pile of junk that I’d accumulated over the years, and when I caught sight of a lanyard, I froze.

  In the middle of that heap was my miracle.

  My eyes blurred with more tears as I plucked out last season’s lanyard and laminated paper that said, Family Pass. In that moment, I swore that my father was pulling his strings up in heaven. I found myself automatically gazing up at the rafters of the ceiling, whispering a quick prayer of thanks, before throwing the lanyard around my neck.

  For once, I was grateful that I never, ever cleaned out my purse. I usually just got a bigger and badder version and filled it to the brim every two years.

  My adrenaline spiked as though I’d won the lottery, and I immediately stuffed all my belongings back into my gigantic purse. I started racing through the stadium, trying to remember where I needed to go.

  I spotted a burly man in black, wearing a shirt that said, Security, and I propelled myself toward him. I extended my pass for him to see.

  “Please, I need to get to the locker rooms. I need to see Jim Brason.” My voice, my actions, must have seemed erratic. My heart pounded in my chest as though I’d just run a race, which I kind of had. I was in a race to make sure Jimmy was okay.

  The guy quirked an eyebrow with no other expression on his face. He glanced at the pass, and I could read the hesitation on his face. Then, I started to cry, like full-on ugly, snot-coming-out-of-my-nose cry. I hadn’t even given him a chance to tell me no.

  “He’s hurt.”

  I reached for the guy’s massive forearm. I didn’t know if it was to steady myself or to gain his pity on a young woman who was a blubbering mess.

  “Please. He needs me. I’m…” I wanted to tell him that Jimmy was the love of my life, but what came out instead was the truth. “He’s family. I’m all he has here, and he’s hurt. Please.” I begged him with my voice, my eyes, with everything I had. I never wanted someone to believe me more than I did at that instant.

  When the security guy shook his head with still no expression on his face, my hands flew to my mouth, and I started to wail in shaking loud sobs. His eyebrows shot to the roof as he studied me as though he’d never seen a woman cry uncontrollably before.

  After a beat, with one wave of his hand, he motioned for me to follow him, and I did. We went down the hall and down more stairs, and then we passed through two double doors, one of which he had to swipe a card to get i
n. I thanked him over and over and over again, but when he didn’t say anything back, I’d decided that I should probably keep my trap shut.

  As we stepped into a long hallway, I started to recognize my surroundings, and I knew we had to pass one more set of doors to get to the locker rooms.

  He turned to me, stopping at the double doors. “This is the farthest I go.”

  I practically jumped on the burly man. “Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you,” I repeated before rushing through the doors.

  I walked tentatively farther down the hall while my mind ran wild with fear as I thought of Jimmy. I turned and stepped onto the carpeted area leading to the locker rooms. My heart dropped when I saw another bulky security guard standing by the door.

  I lifted my pass to show it to him, but he shook his head and pointed to the opposite direction where I’d just come from.

  “No one is allowed down here. Who let you in here?” His voice rumbled through the open space, which made me shake in my skin.

  I pushed the lanyard higher. I sensed that Jimmy was in the vicinity, and I hadn’t come this close to be pushed away. “I’m here to see Jim Brason. I’m family.”

  “Sure, lady. Whatever.” His eyes narrowed as he made his way toward me, ignoring the pass around my neck. “You can’t come down here. Leave,” he grumbled, pointing in the other direction.

  I wasn’t about to walk back through the double doors where the first security guard had let me pass.

  I wanted to cry again, but I had no more tears. I was all cried out.

  Determination set in. My chin lifted, and I pushed past him, dodging his massive body and running toward the locker rooms.

  For a first year law student, I should have been smarter, but desperate times had caused my brave side to surface. Though, there was a fine line between bravery and insanity.

  The security guard moved lightning fast as he reached for my shirt, making me stagger in my step, and then he threw me over his shoulder.

  I screamed Jimmy’s name, loud and proud, yelling like my life depended on it. I knew I’d get kicked out for sure. I just hoped that if I yelled loud enough, Jimmy would hear me.

  “Jimmy, I’m here! I’m here, Jimmy!”

  I squirmed and whipped around in the guard’s hold. “No! Let me go!” I cried out as he moved me farther and farther from my destination.

  I bounced against him. My thrashing finally irritated him enough that he put me back on my feet, but he tightly gripped me with one hand on my shoulder and the other on my waist before dragging me toward the exit. I thought my efforts had all been for nothing until I heard a recognizable voice.

  “Hey! I got this! I know her. She’s Jimmy’s girl. I got her.”

  My eyes whipped around to see a familiar face. It was Tommy, Jimmy’s manager. I’d last seen Tommy at the club for the NFL Charity function.

  When he reached for me, I fell into his arms, sobbing again, because someone was finally on my side.

  “I have to see if he’s okay,” I moaned through muffled tears. “I need to tell him I’m here.”

  “Bliss, you can’t be down here,” Tommy said quietly.

  I almost went hysterical again.

  He framed my shoulders and leaned into me. “The trainer and medical team are with him now. I promise we’ll know about his injuries soon. You just need to calm down.”

  I peered up at him through my wet lashes and nodded slowly. He threw one arm over my shoulder, and I let him lead me to the chairs against the wall.

  The chrome folding chair cooled the backs of my bare legs. I tried to use my hands to steady my bouncing knees, but it was no use. I waited and waited, but I never saw anyone bring Jimmy back in the locker room. Tommy had left me to check on Jimmy, and he had not returned. So, here I sat, thinking the worst. My mind was going crazy.

  Why hadn’t he gotten up? Was he hurt? Was he paralyzed?

  He’d never gotten hit that hard.

  After another half an hour, I couldn’t sit any longer. I stood and paced the room.

  When I saw Tommy’s face, I charged toward him. “Is he okay? Where is he?” My voice turned frantic, my hands wringing together.

  He rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. He looked exhausted. “They took him to the hospital.”

  That one word, hospital, had my knees feeling weak. I doubled over, feeling light-headed.

  He put his hand on my back to steady me. “He’ll be okay, Bliss. He suffered a mild concussion, but the Cougar’s doctor also think he tore his ACL. He might have more injuries, but the medical team will fully assess him at the hospital.”

  “I want to see him,” I begged, fresh tears streaming down my face.

  He swallowed and nodded. “I’ve got a driver waiting outside for you.”

  I gave Tommy a quick hug to thank him.

  “And, Bliss,” he said before releasing me, “he’s been in hell these last few weeks. Poor bastard has been miserable without you.”

  I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  I wasn’t happy that Jimmy had been miserable, but Tommy had confirmed that Jimmy still loved me. I wondered how it’d be seeing him for the first time after not talking to him in weeks. I shuddered inwardly. I was nervous to see him, but most of all, I was nervous that he wouldn’t be okay when I did.

  Present Day

  THE MEDIA CREW SWARMED OUTSIDE the hospital like a pack of wolves. Security detail was tight as I stepped onto Jimmy’s floor. At the reception desk, the nurses grilled me, and I told them the truth. I was family.

  They informed me that doctors were in the room with him at the moment, and I would have to wait—again. I thought I would lose it, but it took all my power to keep calm, to keep my composure.

  I begged them to tell me anything about his condition, to confirm what Tommy had said, but they couldn’t because of patient confidentiality.

  I could have yelled and screamed all I wanted, but I figured that wouldn’t be a good idea. They’d most likely kick me out. So, I waited. I bit off my nails, the worried look on my face probably forever frozen in place. All I kept seeing, replaying in my head, was Jimmy lying motionless on the field, and I just couldn’t deal.

  For the next four hours, I paced the whole hospital floor over a hundred times, wishing, praying, and hoping that he’d be okay. I made bargains with God, telling him I’d never miss a day of church, promising him that I’d pray with the rosary more often and volunteer monthly, begging him to make Jimmy okay.

  I watched doctors and nurses flowed in and out of his room as security stood outside his door. No one could tell me anything.

  The Cougars’ management filtered in and out of his room, and I wondered if they had called his mother. I was guessing probably not. I didn’t think she could receive calls at her rehab place in the early stages.

  Either way, I found myself calling my mom. She’d probably seen everything on TV. Maybe there was a way she could pass a message to Claire. At least then, I knew that would put her at ease. I told my mother to let Claire know that I’d keep them informed when I found out more about his condition.

  By evening, I was slouched on the blue hospital chair, staring at the specs of brown on the beige carpet. I rubbed my tired eyes with the palms of my hands, hoping to see darkness, but only seeing Jimmy lying on the stadium field, motionless on the ground. I felt an overwhelming helplessness, so crippled by the unknown that I started to cry silently. Finally, an older nurse tapped me on my shoulder. I swiped at my tears and scrambled to my feet.

  Her eyes were filled with sympathy, but her smile was warm. “They’ve given him some pain meds, which have made him drowsy. He’s asleep now, but you can see him if you want to. I know you’ve waited a long time.”

  Her kind eyes paired with the news that I could see him were what I needed. I found myself wrapping my arms around her in gratitude.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, squeezing her tight and still crossing my fingers that he
was okay.

  I peered through the glass and pushed the door open, my heart in my throat. His body overtook the entire hospital bed. It was quite a funny sight, considering I remembered when we could fit the two of us in my twin-sized bed.

  I walked at a painfully slow pace until I was at the foot of the bed. The clean scent of Clorox filled the room, but when I took a deeper breath in as I stepped closer, all I could smell was sunlight, green grass, and the outdoors.

  The white linen sheets were wrinkled around his ankles. I reached out to smooth the folds, pulling them over his feet because he never liked his feet to be exposed when we were sleeping.

  He face seemed so innocent, so small, like a young child, which was a large contrast to his massive self. His lips parted as he took slow, even breaths.

  Moving closer, I took his limp hand in mine and softly stroked it with my thumb. Silent tears ran down my face. Seeing him like this, so helpless, was almost unbearable. I still didn’t know exactly what was wrong with him. He looked peaceful, but I wondered what would happen when he woke up, if he would be in pain.

  More tears fell against my cheeks as I couldn’t help but think the worst. What if he were unable to walk again? What if he’d hurt his spine? I used all my energy to push down the negativity, and I hoped that he was okay.

  With one finger, I caressed a line down his face. If given a blank canvas, I could trace every imperfection—from the scar right above his eyebrow, which he’d gotten from running into the storm door when he was eight, to the mark above his lip from his almost concussion in the eighth grade when a linebacker had tackled him to the ground.

  If I closed my eyes now, I could still see it all. His face, his features, were forever embedded in my mind. Every scar, every smile, every tear—I had shared it all with him. His face occupied my every dream.

  I choked back tears as I started to relive everything that had changed between us these last few weeks.

  Then, I decided I wanted everything back—our friendship and him in my life. I wanted it all back. I realized that the pain of not having him in my life had intensified to a degree that was intolerable. I was willing to suffer and love him from afar rather than not have him in my life at all. It would be worth it. I couldn’t live without him. There was no me without him. He was all I’d ever known.