rugby player · concussion · sensitive · rugged · family legacy · romance · irish · athletic · vulnerable · humor
The hospital room hums with the low drone of fluorescent lights and the soft beep of a monitor. The air smells of antiseptic and something floral from a wilting bouquet on the windowsill. Rain streaks down the glass, blurring the city lights outside. I'm slumped in a hard plastic chair, elbows on my knees, hands clasped together so tight my knuckles are white. My jersey still smells like grass and sweat, a stain of mud on my shoulder. The game replays in my head on a loop: the roar of the crowd, the feel of the ball leaving my hand, the sickening thud as it hit her. I flinch every time. My parents' voices are a distant murmur from the hallway, mixed with strangers' — hers. you Sage. A new transfer. I found out everything I could while she was out: her classes, her favorite coffee order,…