Mark My Words

95 | No Harm, No Foul

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"It's hard to say. His parents haven't said much and I've just—I've been, uh, busy with moving and shit but—God, Pittmen, this is just—"

"I know. I know."

"Oh, God. Fuck—I can't—It could have been any of us, you know? Going to—to college with fucking—athletic scholarships or whatever the fuck. How did this even happen? How did he—?"

"I don't know, Hartwood. I dunno."

"Is Berry there?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's here. He's—"

"How's he holding up? Not too great, yeah, I get it. I get it. Tell him I'll... I'll keep him posted. Yeah, I'm going back tomorrow morning. I think he's going in for surgery at six tonight. It's gonna take, like, five hours."

"Jesus Christ. Okay, well, we'll talk to you tomorrow. Give his parents our best, if you see 'em. The entire soccer team's routing for him from the Midwest."

"Yeah. Sure. We'll talk later, Pittmen. Stay safe out there."

___

It's not our fault. It's not our fault.

The mantra felt redundant now, and it lost its luster fast. It dulled, muted, and turned numb in Rosalie's brain that night as they waited to hear something—anything—through Jamie-Lee's Facebook feed. He was the only one of them that had Dylan's moms added, and it seemed like the most likely place for a parent to update the community on their son's condition.

Rosalie's stomach churned at the sight of their timelines, though—riddled with kind words, thoughts and prayers, directed towards Dylan Cox.

"I know this isn't an ideal time," Coach Maguire said that night as Rosalie and Ray lingered in Coach Maguire's hotel room. Ray was seated on the TV stand and Rosalie had her arms crossed, her back to the wall, staring at the floor.

Ray clasped her hands between her parted knees, her elbows perched on her thighs. She put her closed hands to her mouth and said, "What do we do? Most of us barely knew him and the underclassmen are crying about it. It's stupid. Why are we—?"

"It's close to home because it could happen to any one of us," Coach said, and Rosalie wanted to say, He was handpicked. This couldn't have happened to just anyone. "And Cox is a great kid. Even in a school of three thousand kids he made a name for himself on the football team. We all knew him, one way or another. We need to keep the team together on this. Every second counts before tomorrow, which is why I've made reservations."

Ray lowered her hands from her mouth. Rosalie looked up from the floor and said, "Reservations? I thought we were ordering takeout."

Coach sighed and said, "Well, I changed my mind. Of course the team is going to mope if they're given the time and space for it. We can't let idle minds dawdle, so you two are going to help me round up the girls. Everyone needs to be at the lobby by five."

With that, Coach started towards the door. Rosalie blinked once, twice, three times before looking back at Ray, who was still perched on the TV stand, frozen solid. Their eyes met just before Coach opened the door, snapped her fingers, and said, "Alright ladies, what'd I just say about idle minds! Hop to it!"