Page 100 of Only Ever You

I twist the throttle harder. The wind slams into me, sending shivers down my spine. It’s more than just the weather. It’s the storm brewing in my chest. The ache builds as I get to the dorms. Streetlights blur into yellow streaks.

The dorms appear in the distance, glowing warm behind the trees. Windows lit, movement in some of the rooms. Isla lives on the second floor. Which window is hers? Is she home? Or at her off-ice training? I’m so focused on the building, I don’t notice the car pulling out from the side street until it’s too late.

Headlights come at me quickly, and with a loud curse, I jerk the handlebars left. Tires screech on damp asphalt, and my bike fishtails. Then, I’m airborne. Tucking myself into a ball, I pray I don’t break any bones. My shoulder slams into the pavement first, then my helmet. It cracks loudly, and I squeeze my eyes shut. The sound that rattles through my skull is like a huge bell hovering over me. My chest hits the road next, and all the air is ripped from my lungs.

White spots flash in front of my eyes as I struggle to inhale. On my back now, I groan. It’s better if I don’t move, so I lie sprawled out. White changes to black, my vision going dark.

“Fuck!” a deep voice shouts, though the sound is muffled. “I didn’t have time to stop.”

A door slams, and then a female voice screams my name. The sound brings me back to my senses.

Still here. I’m still on the road.

My ears ring, and my mouth tastes like blood. My chest constricts when I try to take a breath. My skin is on fire, and my muscles ache. Fuck, did I break a bone? My world is spinning, and I can’t do anything to stop it.

Footsteps grow closer. Then, a voice I swear sounds like Isla’s yells, “Somebody call nine-one-one! Please!”

The visor of my helmet flips up, cold air hitting my skin, and there she is. Isla, hovering over me, eyes tearful, lips trembling.

“Michael, can you hear me?” Her voice breaks, and her face crumples. “Look at me. Stay with me, please.”

I want to say her name, but I can’t move my lips.

She doesn’t try to take the helmet off. She knows better. She sits on the hard asphalt beside me and holds my hand, talking to me. “Stay with me. Michael, please look at me. Don’t look away…” She sniffles. “Don’t close your eyes.”

The world fades around the edges. Lights blur. Sirens sound in the distance. I force my eyes to stay open; I want to continue admiring her. Her face always brings me joy and happiness.

She’s right here, still holding my hand, clutching it to her chest, never leaving me. “Don’t close your eyes,” she sobs. “Please, stay with me. Please, Michael.”

I want to tell her I’ll be okay, but my throat is too tight.

“Stay with me,” she whispers.

The cold from the asphalt seeps into my jacket, the sirens get louder, and then more voices echo through the air.

She squeezes my hand. I try to squeeze back, but I’m too weak, and the darkness is taking over. I’m studying her face, memorizing every detail, when the blackness swallows everything.

A beeping sound comes first. Slow. Steady. And annoying, because it interferes with my sleep. My eyelids are heavy—not that I want to open my eyes anyway. I inhale, and my chest burns. Dammit, it hurts so fucking bad.

Reluctantly, I open my eyes and blink at the bright light above. Dread washes over me. Where am I? It takes a moment to find the strength to turn my head. I can’t move it much, but it doesn’t take long to register I’m at the hospital. The beeping sound is coming from the machine attached to my body, my nostrils assaulted by the faint smell of antiseptic and plastic.

To my left, Mom is sitting in a chair next to the bed. Her brown hair is messy, her eyes swollen, like she’s been crying. When she notices I’m awake, she gasps and jumps to her feet.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Voice trembling, she reaches for my hand. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

I frown, confused. Before I can find the words to ask what’s going on, the memories come rushing back. Me on the bike, heading to the dorms, my chaotic thoughts distracting me. Then, a crash.

“I’m so sorry,” I rasp out. “I promised you and⁠—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “No one’s angry. Everything’s okay. We’re happy you’re here with us. Just…don’t scare us like that again. It’s past midnight already. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for a few hours.”

The door opens, and Dad steps in. His jaw is clenched tight as he stalks closer, his dark brown eyes on me. Meg peeks around him, her arms wrapped around her torso, her eyes red from crying.

Dad puts his hand on my shoulder and smiles. “You’re gonna be alright. Cracked rib, concussion, some bruising. Could’ve been worse.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple moving up and down.

I use the pause to ask, “What about hockey?”

“You’ll miss the rest of preseason, but you should be back on the ice in November.”