Slapshot

Chapter 15: Hurt

"I'm fine." I wince as I stand up. "Holy crap." I repeat, my arm grabbing hers so I wouldn't fall down. I couldn't see straight.

"Jonathan! What the hell happened." she says, and her voice trembles.

"I, uh, I'm kinda dizzy right now. Oh my god." I mutter, taking her other arm so I could stand up straight.

"Jonathan..." she says, her voice trailing off. "What am I supposed to do? Call 911? Drive you to the hospital? Are you gonna die, oh my god." she says, her hand reaching for the back of my head. She touches what was the point of contact, and I wince. Her eyes widen as she looks at her now bloody fingers.

"I hope I don't die. Um..." I trail off, because I wasn't sure either. My eyes close, and Taylor starts pinching my cheek, luckily it wasn't the one that was punched.

"Oh no, please stay awake. Please don't faint. Don't die." she says, and as she sniffles I know she's crying. I couldn't see it, I was still dizzy.

I feel the wall behind me, leaning back as I sat down against it. "Um... Can you go get me a wet towel for the blood?" I ask.

"No! I'm not leaving you here alone." she immediately says. I can hear a zipper and her rummaging with some stuff as I close my eyes again. "Lean forward, c'mon." she mumbles, lightly pushing my head forward. She presses some wet cloth against the back of my head.

"Oh my god," she whimpers, moving some hair away from my forehead. "Please tell me what happened." she says, and I open my eyes as she sat down in front of me.

"Braden came and punched me a bit, and my head slammed against the wall." I simply say, and her eyes go wide.

"He did?" she whimpers, covering her wide open mouth. I'm starting to see clearly again, and I can see the liquid forming in her eyes as she was about to cry again.

"Yes. Why?"

"Oh my god, Jonathan, it's my fault." she cries. "Coach broke us up, and Braden thought you were the one who told on us. You didn't, right?"

"No, Taylor. I barely even fucking cared." I sigh, but I could feel my anger growing. He beat me up because he thinks I told on him for some stupid high school relationship.

"I'm so sorry." she sniffles, wrapping her arms around me. "It's all my fault, you're going to die because of me." she shakes her head against me.

"I'll be fine." I chuckle.

"How do you feel?" she asks, leaning back to examine me. Her eyes fall on my right cheek, the one he hurt. She delicately traced her fingertips over top my cheek, and I closed my eyes.

"I'm not dizzy anymore. My head kills and my cheek's hurting too, but I can see straight." I tell her, and she nods.

"You've had concussions before, right? Do you think this is a concussion?" she asks.

"Um..." I pause, thinking. "No, I don't think so. I hope not." I say.

"Should I go tell Coach? He'll know what to do." she offers.

"No, please don't." I wince, taking her hand away from my cheek.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"He doesn't have to know." I say, and she sighs.

"So what should I do?" she asks. "Take you home?"

I nod lightly. "Fine, but I'm staying with you for a bit." she says.

"Sure, whatever." I say. She takes her wet cloth back from behind my head, and I could see that it was, ironically, one of Braden's gym shirts with water that was now covered in blood.