Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Terror, pure and strong, took me in its hold, and I watched the big screen as medics ran out onto the field and took off Jesse’s helmet. He was unconscious, that much I could see. The crowd began to quiet, realizing that Jesse was down and wasn’t getting back up.
“Get up,” I said to him. “Get up! Jesse, get up!” My voice was shrill and in the silence of the stands, people began looking at me.
My cell rang, and I saw it was Jesse’s mama calling. “Cynthia,” I said by way of greeting.
“What’s happening, June? Is he okay?” The game was televised today, which meant anyone watching this game was watching Jesse on their screens right now—not getting up.
“I don’t know… I don’t know.” My bottom lip wobbled. “I’m scared.”
Cynthia said, “I know you are, sweetie. So am I. But—” she went quiet, then: “June, someone is calling. I’ll call back.”
I nodded like she could see me.
A stretcher was brought out onto the field, and I watched helplessly as Jesse was placed on it, and the medics rushed off the field with the love of my life.
Someone nearby had a broadcast playing loudly on their phone beside us. “We’re not sure what has happened, but we know that Jesse Taylor is a survivor of acute myeloid leukemia. In fact, he was diagnosed stage four last year, but he was chosen for a clinical trial that saved his life. He fought hard to keep his scholarship and his place on the Longhorns. I truly hope he’s okay, and it has nothing to do with his past health issues.”
Blood drained from my face. Was Jesse relapsing? Is that what was happening? Chris and Emma must have heard the broadcast too, as when I turned to them, they had paled.
Chris grabbed Emma’s hand, and she took hold of mine. “Let’s go. We’ll find out where he is. He needs us.”
We rushed through the stands, garnering curious stares. Then a whistle blew and the game was back on. I wanted to run onto the field and scream at them all for carrying on when Jesse, my Jesse, had just collapsed. But Chris was pulling us down the stairs, trying to find a way to the locker rooms.
The stadium was huge and packed with security, but just before we reached them, my phone rang again. “Cynthia,” I said.
“They’re taking him to the hospital,” she said, and told me which one. “I’m trying to get cover at work so I can get out there.”
“We’re going now,” I said, running for a nearby exit.
Chris and Emma followed. My head was full, and my nerves had engulfed me.
“I’ve got an Uber coming. Two minutes,” Chris said, and pulled me along to where it was picking us up. I heard an ambulance in the distance and wondered if Jesse was in it.
“June, listen to me,” Cynthia said. “I’ll call ahead to the hospital and tell them you’re coming. I won’t be able to get there until tomorrow and he needs someone with him. I’ll get you permission to be by his side.” Her voice cracked, and it caused my numbness to break and fear to race through me. “You okay, sweetie?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, just as a white SUV pulled up beside us. “We’re leaving now.”
“Call me as soon as you know anything,” she said.
“I will,” I whispered, hanging up as Emma pushed me into the car. We set off, and it only took me a few minutes to realize the radio was the commentary of the Longhorns game.
“We’re waiting on any word from the Longhorns on the status of quarterback Jesse Taylor…”
Tears built in my eyes, and Chris leaned over to the driver and said, “Can you turn the channel, bro?” The driver did what he said, but I noticed his curious glances.
“He’s gonna be okay,” Chris said, reaching across Emma squeeze my hand.
“He is,” Emma said, linking her arm with mine. “It was probably just tiredness or overexertion.” They were trying to make me feel better, but none of us were saying what we were all thinking—that his cancer might be back.
Dr. Duncan had said 50 to 85 percent chance of relapse.
The traffic to the hospital made it take forever, and by the time we got there, all my darkest thoughts were filling my body with dread. I was terrified of walking in there and being told he hadn’t made it.
“June?” Chris said, and I realized I was standing, unmoving, in the entryway.
I shook my head, and tears fell from my eyes. “What if he’s not okay?” My feet were rooted to the spot. I couldn’t move. “He’s the love of my life, Chris. He’s my everything.” I looked at my two friends. “What if he’s not okay?” My voice shook. “What if it’s back, only this time it takes him from me?”