My Accidental NFL Boyfriend

To the people that sent me inspirational messages—thank you so much! I enjoy reading them.

Caleb’s POV:

            One time, when we were little, we were climbing trees in my backyard and jumping onto the tire swing. I always thought Jayla looked a little like a monkey, and I told her, and when she tripped off the tree from her anger, she hit the tire swing, and was left unconscious. I cried and ran to get Carly, thinking Jayla was dead and it was my entire fault. However, Carly’s soothing voice was telling me that she was fine; it was just a concussion—she’ll be back in action in moments as she picked her daughter up and called the ambulance.

            It didn’t seem this miniscule now.

            The amount of machines she was on was ridiculous and she didn’t look like she was waking up anytime soon. Maybe even never.

            The nurse bustled in, explaining that she was on “life support” and it was up to her body, and their induced coma, to fix itself. She needed to mend the bleeding in her head, then the broken bones could come later.           

            Everything was a sickening white. The floors, the ceiling, and the bedsheets, all contrasting each other in the revolting color that unnerved the strongest of men. If only the room was happier, if the walls were yellow like the sun, or the air didn’t smell like rubbing alcohol and antiseptic, maybe patients would heal quicker.

            “Are you all right though, honey?” the nurse asked. She was an older woman; a one with kind eyes and a smile like a mother’s, sweet and understanding. She had the air that made me weak and want to cry into her shoulder—something I wouldn’t have done if I was paid. But just looking at Jayla’s pale, unmoving face—her lashes resting on her bandaged cheeks, her hands gentle and unclenched, hooked and needled and translucent, I did want to cry. The strange man, supposedly in the car (I guess he was Jayla’s friend, even though I’ve never seen him) was on a chair, his head and arms asleep on the bed. She even matched the room due to her translucent skin, causing my stomach to clench.

            “yeah,” I say after awhile.

            “We’ll pray,” she says soothingly, “that’s all we can do.” She leaves me in the room, trying to fight back tears. Just like that incident that I had nightmares about—it was my fault again. If I didn’t call the cops, she’d be home, even if it wasn’t my home but another’s.

            Two familiar twin girls bustle into the room, tears smearing their caked cheeks and blonde hair pulled in messy buns.

            “Jay,” they sob. Then they take in their surroundings—the strange man beside her, and finally, me. They both made a beeline for my neck.

            “It’s your entire fault,” one cries, “you killed her. She’s going to die because of you!”

            “No,” I say, my face paled, “I didn’t do anything.”

            The other one, more aggressive, grabs me by the collar and digs her heels into the pale tiled flooring and stares me straight in the eyes, her green eyes on fire.

            “She loved you and you killed her.” She lets it hang deafeningly in the air before unclenching her fingers and running toward the bed. She hesitantly touches Jay’s face, shivering.

            “It’s cold, Vivian,” she cries, tears plopping onto Jay’s arms.

            The girl, “Vivian” grabs the other blonde and hugs her tight. Then they just cry together, their chest laboriously going up and down, their faces in each other’s shoulders. I turn away, not wanting to see all of the emotion, and from the raw hurt I was feeling. I didn’t kill her…I couldn’t have. She was fine.

            I run out of the hospital, and they both scream, “KILLER!” as the door slams.

            I needed a drink. I needed a lot of drinks.

'           Before I made it out of the building, I see another person, similar in age of Jay and me, being wheeled out. Heads were shook and the machines were hastily being torn out as they continued down the hall, the family following behind crying softly. They must’ve died.

            I turned directly around and was in that exact seat again. Something told me if I left her side she would decompose and be pulled away on that stretcher while I was gone. The twins were seated next to her, having pushed the sleeping man away, in possession of both of her hands. Their tears sparkled as they watched Jay’s peaceful face, the face I knew in every emotion.

            That’s when it hit me.

            I wouldn’t be able to see her smile anymore, much less a blink if she didn’t pull through. All the happiness she brought to everyone would be six feet under in cold ground and the world would go on, forgetting her existence. My heart hurt even thinking about the world continuing. However, that was life. It went on; it speeds by even if Jay’s not in it. Humans were the only things that slowed down, to think, to pray, and to remember the existence of another. I couldn’t accept it.

            Tears slipped down my cheeks, the first time I’ve cried since my father died. Maybe what Alex said was right. Maybe I actually did love her, I just didn’t realize it until it was too late.

THANK YOU TO adele22x1 for the cover! If you want to make a cover or banner, much would be appreciated! I LOVE LOOKING AT INBOXES. I have an idea to end this story but I’m not sure yet. I have swimmers ear in both ears right now I’m in so much pain ahh. Sorry it’s short.

            ANYONE HAVE A FUNNY STORY OF LOVE COMMENT IT, I love hearing from you all and it'll cheer me up (: xo