In an Instant

by Adrienne Torrisi

  “He switched with me, Luke, right before the accident. I always sat in the front seat.” I give him a small smile. “Your brother was a real gentleman for eighteen. He always gave me the front.” Then, remembering that night, I drop my smile. “I switched seats with him to be next to Jake.” Just saying the words out loud is like a knife reopening my wounds. I want to pull my eyes away from his, but I owe him eye contact at least. “I should have been in the front. I was always in the front. I’m the one who should have been in that seat. I’m the one who should be …” I can’t even finish that sentence.

  I try to fight the tears I feel welling up, yet a few slip out.

  Luke runs his thumbs over my cheeks to wipe my tears away. His eyes are filled with love, not the hate I expected, as he pulls me into a hug. “Oh, Dani, you can’t do this. You can’t beat yourself up like this,” he whispers as he tenderly runs his hand over my hair. I feel myself shaking, unable to control it.

  “He loved you, Dani. And he loved Jake. Maybe you both didn’t go about everything the right way, but this accident, what happened, it is not either of your faults. You have to stop blaming yourself or what you and Jake did. It’s not the reason this happened.” He pulls back slightly and places his hands on either side of my face. “Dani, you have to stop. It’s not going to change anything; none of it will bring him back. This is not your fault.”

  Hearing the words is soothing, but hearing them from Luke is exactly what I need. I can never express in words how grateful I am for his selflessness. Having him comfort me after everything is more healing than anything anyone else could ever say.

  How does he not hate me?

  Maybe he is more like Marcus than I ever realized.

  I pull back even farther so our eyes connect, my arms still wrapped around him. For once, the beauty of his eyes and the way they resemble Marcus’s isn’t painful. It’s incredible.

  Embrace it.

  “Thank you,” are the only words I can actually muster.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Game

  As soon as we hear the buzzer indicating warmups are over, I wipe my eyes and start to pull myself together. I give Luke a smile before I rejoin the rest of the girls courtside.

  Mel shoots me a questioning look, but I just give her a shrug. There’s no time to explain.

  For the first time, I notice the nerves washed across her face. It’s obvious she feels the same way I do about Jake playing. There is also a genuine concern for me in her eyes. I’m sure it’s noticeable I was crying. Tears can be wiped away, but my eyes are always a dead giveaway since they immediately get red and swollen.

  The game announcer’s voice cuts through the noise of the crowd as he begins to introduce all of the starters for both teams. When they call Jake’s name, I study him. It’s evident his chest is heavily taped up over his injury, but his movements are fluid, as if there isn’t a trace of pain.

  I know his coach tried to talk him out of playing. He said the other team will know about his injuries, that they will try to take advantage of his weakness. Regardless, nothing short of Marcus coming down and telling him not to play would stop him. Maybe even that wouldn’t have changed his mind.

  Coach, Doc, and his parents all know him well enough to know there was no use wasting their breath. He is so incredibly stubborn. There were so many times when he would only listen to Marcus. A million people could tell him it was a bad idea, but if Marc said it, he would actually listen. Now he doesn’t have that voice of reason, and it’s pushing him over the edge.

  Cam is announced. His hand is wrapped in tape, protecting where he had his stitches removed a few days ago. His fingers both have tape splints, but luckily, they aren’t on his shooting hand. I know he’s been off during practice; his injury is definitely affecting his game. Nonetheless, he’s been pushing through. The plan was to give him a pain killer similar to Jake so he felt less pain for the game, but Cam didn’t want it because, given where his injury is, he was afraid it would affect his hands.

  Nate is in a zone unlike I have ever seen. He is ready to play to win. He’s always focused, though right now it’s as if he’s unaware anyone else is in the arena.

  Dax comes out with full-force when he’s announced. I can tell he’s pushed the hurt and pain away … for the next two hours, at least. He’s ready to play.

  Em gives him an extra shout out, and I glance over at her with a smile. That’s one positive that came out of the accident: it brought some people closer together. Dax and Em are official, and Nate and Hanna have been hanging out a lot. Even Jake’s parents are back to living under one roof.

  And finally, Vizzi is announced. He’s only a junior, and in a way, it’s sweet irony that he’s playing for Marcus since we were on our way to his house when the accident happened. Vizzi knows the shoes he needs to fill; he knows he would never be starting if it weren’t for Marcus not being here. Moreover, he was tight with Marcus, so I’m sure this is bittersweet.

  Since they know he’s playing for Marcus, the crowd gives Vizzi an extra-large ovation. Then the “National Anthem” starts to play, and everyone stands. It’s the first time I take in how packed the arena is.

  State always draws a huge crowd, but because of the accident, it seems our team is now newsworthy. Knowing Marcus was killed and other starting players were injured but still playing made the local news jump all over the story, which has made everything even more difficult.

  We are all going through so much. Then, on top of it, to have the coaches and team hounded by the media … It’s unnecessary and only exploits wounds that need time to heal. People who have never met Marcus are grieving his loss. It’s too public, too out in the open. It should be private.

  Seeing these people supporting our team should make me happy, but it turns my stomach over in knots. They don’t know us; they didn’t know Marcus. They don’t know his family or how difficult being here without him is.

  I feel the cobra of emotions slither back up. It constricts my breathing. I try to take a deep breath and start to concentrate on breathing.

  In, out. In, out.

  Once Rebecca Stratton, another senior from our class, finishes singing the “National Anthem,” the announcer begins to speak while the crowd is still standing.

  “As most of you know, the Knights experienced a horrible loss in a tragic accident a few weeks ago. We’d like everyone to remain standing and please give a moment of silence for the great loss to the team, the school, and his friends and family. Marcus Benjamin Clark, number 11.”

  I drop my head and squeeze my hands together at my sides. I feel my fingernails digging into my skin; the pain is the only thing that brings me peace.

  I think of Luke. I see his piercing eyes as he told me things I never knew. I think of Jake’s smile, his dimples, how he is the only person on earth who truly understands how painful reflecting on this loss is. And I think of Marcus: the love he always showered me with, the smile he gave me when we swapped seats before the accident, his hands, how soft they were when I held them for the last time.

  The roar of the crowd causes my head to snap up.

  The game started.

  I look over to see the girls are already in formation for our first cheer. Shit.

  Mel gives me a small, understanding smile. There it is—another trace of our friendship. I’m grateful. Maybe we can overcome this someday.

  Our team looks good. Somehow, they pushed that moment of silence—the tribute to Marcus, the fact that he’s not out there—away, and they are here to play.

  The other team, the Jaguars, are good, and it’s clear they want this win just as badly as we do. We played them two years ago at state. We won the last time, so they are hungry for redemption. Both teams were pretty equally matched with Marcus. Without him, it’s going to be difficult to beat them.

  I look up as if that brings me closer to Marc, silently pleading with him to give each of the boys the strength to get through this with a win. I feel him ever
ywhere.

  Nate is always an amazing player, but watching him tonight, it’s like he’s channeling Marcus. He’s nailing basket after basket. He is in control of the game and making up for what Cam and Jake are missing because of their injuries.

  It’s clear Cam is in pain whenever he dribbles or passes using his left hand. He’s not letting it stop or slow him down, though. I’m sure his adrenaline is on overdrive, pushing him forward. Coach pulls him out to give him a break, probably sensing that he’s pushing through the pain.

  Cam is sitting in the team chairs lining the court, yet his leg never stops bouncing. His eyes don’t leave the court. He wants back out there. He yells something to Jake from the sideline, and his coach gives him a smile.

  Jake is always unstoppable, but tonight, you would never know he has three broken ribs or that he was in the hospital a week ago. You would also never know he has a giant hole in his heart because his best friend will never be out there on the court with him again.

  He looks over to Vizzi and nods, Vizzi nods back. He’s seen Marcus do this play a million times and knows what Jake wants him to do.

  Vizzi somehow forces his way through the other team’s defenders and drives to the hoop. He has a perfect layup. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was Marcus out there. Those moves belong to Marcus. I have seen Vizzi play. He’s always solid. Tonight, though, he is on fire.

  At half-time, the score is close, but we have the lead.

  The Jaguars are a strong team. Their star, Jackson Roberts, is a dirty player. He’s already got four fouls, so his coach doesn’t put him in when we come back from half-time. You can tell his team is suffering without him. Our boys take full advantage. Cam is back out there, and we are up by ten.

  I notice Jake running his hands over his right side where he is taped up. I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it. He looks tired. This is too much for him; however, he will never stop. Thankfully, Coach doesn’t miss it and pulls him out, sending him over to one of the trainers.

  My eyes follow him, and I watch as he pulls up his jersey, revealing just how taped up his right side is. The team doc applies a fresh layer of tape to help secure whatever has started to peel. Once he’s done, Jake walks over to his coach. When the coach shakes his head, I know he wants him to sit out longer. Jake says something, and then Coach looks at the team doc who nods, giving Jake the all clear.

  Damn. I wish he would listen to his coach. He looks tired. He never looks tired.

  Then again, I know his team needs him since we only have a twelve-point lead.

  “Let’s go, Knights,” Em says to our squad, signaling that is the cheer we should do next. Luckily, these cheers are like second nature to me; I can do them in my sleep, which is good because my focus is on the game and, more importantly, all of the boys I love out there.

  Dax is our tallest player at six-five, and he’s the king of rebounds, which is necessary in every game but especially this one since the Jaguars are such a strong team.

  Nate shoots, and the ball skims the rim but doesn’t go in. Dax is right where he needs to be, there is an instant scuffle for the ball, and Dax goes down hard. He’s lying on the court for longer than he should be. There is a hush as the arena collectively holds their breath. We all watch the trainers run out.

  I grab Em’s hand, but her eyes are zeroed in on Dax.

  When he finally gets up, the crowd roars with excitement, but he looks off, confused. He is looking around as if he’s unsure where he is, and his nose is bleeding.

  “He’s going to be okay, Em,” I say, feeling the sweat on her palm. I see the panic filling her eyes when they meet mine.

  “He doesn’t look good, D,” she whispers, and I agree on the inside. Outside, I need to reassure her.

  “He just needs a minute.” I smile and hope I’m right.

  They pull him off to the side, not taking him back to the locker room where the more advanced medical equipment is, which tells me they think he might be okay to go back in soon, so I breath a small sigh of relief.

  The game continues as if nothing happened; that’s just the nature of the game.

  When I glance over to where Dax is sitting, I can tell they are checking him for a concussion. I have seen it a million times; I know what it looks like. He must pass because they shove a cotton swab in his nose with tape, and then he’s back in the game within minutes.

  I glance over at Em, and she gives me a relieved smile.

  “See? I told you,” I mouth to her with a smile, hoping he’s really okay. They wouldn’t put him back in if he shouldn’t be out there. At least, I hope they wouldn’t.

  There are five minutes left in the game, and the score is 86 to 76, so it’s anybody’s game. I wish we had a bigger lead when the Jaguar’s put Jackson back in.

  Jake has the ball and shoots a perfect three-pointer, and just like that, we are up by thirteen.

  Jackson brings the ball down the court. As soon as he passes the half-court line, he picks up speed and dodges right past our guys. He goes in for a layup, but it’s short, and it bounces off the rim. By some miracle, Dax gets the rebound and takes the ball back down the court.

  The boys pass to one another round robin style. I know they are running down the clock, partly just to psychologically mess with the other team. They are so smooth. It’s like watching a wave form in the ocean. Their motions are fluid, effortless. It’s as if the ball is an extension of their bodies.

  Jake has the ball. He quickly fakes a pass to Cam and makes a fast break through their defense. Jackson runs up, guarding him close.

  As Jake reaches up to take the shot, Jackson slams his body into Jake’s right side, exactly where his injury is. In any game, this would be a foul, but this is a low blow. It’s clear it was deliberate by the smile on Jackson’s face.

  Jake drops the ball and leans over with his hands on his knees. At first, I think he just needs to catch his breath.

  The arena is silent. There is no squeak of sneakers against the court, no cheers from the crowd, just stunned silence as we all watch Jake collapse to the ground. Time slows. The boo’s now coming from our side echo in my ears.

  The trainers run out to him in the middle of the court, surrounding him, so I can no longer see him. I start to hear mummers from the crowd behind me.

  “He shouldn’t have been playing.” “Why was he out there?” How quickly they change. They were fine with it two seconds ago when he was scoring shot after shot.

  I want to scream at them to shut up, but I can’t move. I feel a hand in mine and look over to see Mel. Her face mirrors everything I’m feeling.

  “You’re out!” the ref shouts to Jackson.

  The Jaguar coach is arguing with him, but there is no use. Five fouls, and you are out of the game.

  I will never forget the smile on Jackson’s face as he watched Jake go down. It’s as if this were his win. I want to run across the court and punch him. He should be the one in pain.

  I see the trainers running to bring out the flat board, and my heart sinks. If he can’t walk off the court, I know it’s bad.

  Mel squeezes my hand more tightly.

  Nate’s mom runs onto the court to help. Thank God she’s here.

  I feel tears slide down my cheeks as they carry him off.

  Why is this happening? I knew it.

  I plead with Marcus to help him. Who cares about the stupid game? Nothing is worth this.

  As soon as Jake is off the court, the game starts up again. The rest of the boys know they need to play no matter how concerned they are for Jake. We are only up by thirteen, and there are less than five minutes left.

  I can’t take my eyes off Jake as I watch him disappear down the hall. Mel is still holding my hand, and once he’s out of sight, we both turn to one another.

  “Go,” she says, gesturing in the direction they just took him.

  She said one tiny word, but it speaks volumes. I’m not sure she will ever be able to forgive us, but this is a
s close to her blessing as we will ever get. Her eyes are filled with concern, love, and understanding. She is a bigger person than I will ever be, and I don’t think I can express in words how much this means to me.

  This is everything I needed to allow myself to really feel what I think I have known since the first day I ever laid eyes on Jake when we were five and his family moved into the house behind ours. I will never forget feeling the flip of butterflies in my stomach for the very first time when I saw his messy hair and incredible eyes peering over the fence. But what sealed the deal for my heart was when he smiled at me, and I saw how sweet and vulnerable he was all at the same time. My heart knew instantly what it took years for my brain to figure out.

  It feels like I’m running in slow motion; I can’t move fast enough. I don’t know where I’m going until a security guard points me in the direction of the medical facility.

  When I turn the corner, my eyes land on him. He’s lying on a padded medical table in one of the exam rooms, wearing an oxygen mask.

  “Dani!” Nate’s mom puts her arm out to stop me as I try to push into the room. “They are helping him, honey.” I can’t read her expression. Then again, she’s an expert at hiding if there is reason to be concerned.

  “I need to see him,” I say, trying to peer past her.

  She pulls me back. “They need a minute, honey.”

  “Please,” I say, losing all control. I can barely catch my breath. All of the feelings I have pushed deep inside, that I have convinced myself didn’t exist or didn’t allow myself to feel, are bubbling over. I can’t pull myself together. I feel sanity slipping away.

  The reality of losing Jake slams into me. I already know all too well what it feels like to lose someone you love.

  I need to see him. I need to know he is okay.

  “Dani, they are helping him. They need space to do that.” Nate’s mom pulls me farther back out into the hallway. She runs her hands over my hair with such motherly love and concern. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, foreign to me, and I automatically think she has an agenda, like my mom always does. I push those thoughts away and peel myself out of my comfort zone to accept her embrace as she wraps her arms around me.