Boys Are Dogs

Chapter 7 - Collin POV

I made my way out to the field, dressed up in my simple red uniform, some shin guards, and my worn out cleats. Practice was going to be rough today; I heard that Coach had come up with some insane new drill that was practically going to kill us. I was not looking forward to that. 

I pushed my way into the huddle that was going on around the coach. I had missed the first part of his lecture, but quickly caught on to what he had been saying. I had missed the first part while I was getting dressed. He dismissed us to do our pre-practice warmups, telling us to meet back on the field after fifteen minutes. 

I walked over to the track, and started my stretches before my run. I quickly finished my stretches and began to run. Running was always a good way to warm up before a practice session. I jogged around the track, mainly focusing on the music I had on. My earbuds bounced along with every stride, almost falling out of my ears a couple of times. I did a few laps before stopping and doing my post-warmup stretches. I then jogged over to my already gathering team, and did my best to listen to Coach as he gave out the instructions to the new drill we were starting today. 

This workout was painful. Every inch of my being felt like it was on fire, and I honestly wanted to die. 

We had finished the new drill, and had started shooting goals, with a goalie and two defenders guarding said goal. I was near the back of the line so I had some time to burn. I found myself thinking about Derek, as per usual. I had come to terms with the fact that I liked him a few days ago. I just looked into the mirror one night and said it. I said, "I like Derek Lincoln," straight into the mirror and then my body got all warm and fuzzy and I felt really happy. 

My thoughts were interrupted by an angry coach. 

"Crowe! Pay attention! It's your turn! One more slip-up and you'll be running laps!" he yelled at me as I grabbed my ball and started dribbling towards the goal. I had this in the bag. Or so I thought. 

I sprinted towards the looming defenders, ready to evade them if they attacked me. But my head wasn't completely in the game. 

The first defender caught up to me and made an attempt to steal the ball from between my feet. I evaded him, but didn't expect the second one to be right behind him. The second defender went for the ball. It was then that everything went downhill. 

The defender tripped me, and I went sprawling in the dirt, only aware of the white-hot pain shooting through my left arm. I threw my head back in pain, only to smack it on the ground. I grunted in pain, and my vision went a little blurry. 

I made a feeble attempt to sit up, but nearly threw up from the effort. I slammed myself back against the ground, and caught my head and my throbbing arm on the dirt again. I only heard Coach's shouts for help as I blacked out from the pain. 

***

I woke up to unfamiliar beeping sounds and hushed whispers. I groggily opened my eyes, and scanned the room. I was in the hospital, though I couldn't remember why. The whispers were coming from two hunched figures in the corner of the room. I couldn't quite make out who they were, because my vision was still swimming with black dots. I tried to sit up, but was immediately greeted by a wave of nausea that hit me like a truck. I laid my head down and went back to sleep, trying to ignore the throbbing pain coming from my left arm and behind my eyes. 

***

I came to with a groan. My arm was still throbbing, my head was still spinning, and I overall felt like complete and utter shit. I finally remembered what had happened. I didn't blame the defender for what had happened; it was my fault for not having my head in the game. 

I groaned at the thought that I wouldn't be able to play soccer for the rest of the season if I wanted my arm to heal properly. I loved playing soccer. It really helps you forget about the problems in your life, even if only for an hour or two. 

The doctor walked in, and gave me a stern look. 

"Mr. Crowe," he started, "you've gotten yourself into a pretty bad situation, now haven't you?" he grinned at me with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

"Yeah, I guess," I responded, ignoring the pain that was ravaging my skull. 

He looked at me with knowing eyes. "Well, you have a pretty bad concussion and a broken arm, if you couldn't already tell," he stated. 

I gave him a knowing glance and nodded my head yes. 

"Well," he began, "we are going to have to keep you in here for a few days so we can watch your concussion, and make sure your arm sets properly. It was a pretty nasty break."

I rested my head on my pillow, accepting my fate of bed rest. The doctor left the room, leaving me alone. I reached for the remote to turn on the tv that was on the wall, but I was interrupted my someone entering the room. 

My mother entered, smiling. 

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" she asked with a sweet tone. 

"I'm okay, but I could totally use some aspirin," I joked, leaving her smiling. 

"Well I'm glad to see that you're feeling okay, but you have some friends waiting to see you, so I'll get out of your hair." 

She left the room, and a few seconds later, Malia entered. She gave me a small hug and we talked, mostly about my injuries, but also talked some about other things. She left, but not before giving me another gentle hug. 

After she left, a few more friends came to visit, some of them being my teammates. The kid who tripped me apologized time after time no matter how many times I told him I wasn't angry with him. 

Soon enough everyone left, and I was left alone. This solitude didn't last long, however, as Derek walked into the room. 

I watched him with curious eyes as he walked towards the chair by my bed. He sat, and spoke.

"How are you?" he asked, his tone very gentle. 

"I'll live," I joked, which caused him to smirk. 

"Well, I'm glad that you're okay. When I first heard the news, I thought Isaac had gotten to you or something. I was about to cut a bitch," he remarked, which made me blush. Not only was he cute, but he was also very protective. 

After a few minutes of conversation, he got up, preparing to leave the room and let me be alone. But before he could leave, I stopped him. 

"Thanks for checking on me. It really means a lot," I gushed, which made him smile. 

"Of course. That's what friends are for, right?" 

Derek left the room, leaving me alone. He thought of me as a friend? I thought he hated me! This was a step forward. 

I leaned back on my pillow once again, and started surfing through the channels on the tv. Before I knew it, my body succumbed to sleep. 

I dreamt of Derek's cute little smirk.