Going Wild (6 page)

“F
oul!” Coach yelled, and came running over.

Kelly slowly got to her feet and staggered over to Charlie. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Charlie writhed on the ground clutching her leg. Pain blinded her. She couldn't breathe, and she felt like she was going to throw up.

Maria rushed to Charlie's side as Kelly melted into the background to walk off her own injuries. Coach knelt down in the grass and examined Charlie. The other players crowded around.

“My leg,” Charlie gasped.

“Back up, everybody, please,” Coach said, carefully removing Charlie's shin guard and pushing down her sock. She looked at Charlie. “Any other pain besides your leg?”

Charlie shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I'm okay.”

“Did you black out or hit your head?”

“No.”

“Stomach pain?”

“A little queasy when I look at my leg.”

“Yeah, it's swelling up fast, Charlie—I'm worried it could be broken.” She glanced quickly at her watch. “The nurse will have
left by now. Are your parents around? We should call them and get you checked out.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket.

“My mom's a doctor—she works at the hospital.”

“Okay, good. What's the number?”

“I can't remember. It's in my phone, though,” Charlie said. “In the locker room.” She tried hard not to cry and failed miserably, but the pain was intense. She'd never broken a bone before. Plus, she was surrounded by strangers staring at her, and that just made her feel worse. And what about soccer? A broken leg meant she wouldn't get to play this spring at all. The one thing she was looking forward to in this boring nothing town. She closed her eyes and put her arm over her face.

Coach looked up at the other players. “Any of you know where Charlie's stuff is? We need her phone.”

“I'll get it,” Maria offered.

Charlie told her the lock combination. Maria broke through the crowd and ran for the building.

Coach looked at Charlie. “You're going to be okay. It might just be a bad bruise, but we should make sure. Do you want to try to stand up? Let's see if you can put any weight on it.”

Charlie wiped her eyes with her sleeve and nodded, grateful for the distraction. She pushed herself to a sitting position, and Coach and another girl helped her to stand on her good foot. She slung her arm around Coach's shoulders and tried putting some weight on her bad leg. She yelped in pain but gritted her
teeth, and slowly Coach helped her hop to the sideline and sit down in the grass. Coach Candy ran to grab her emergency kit and returned to Charlie's side. She broke open an ice pack and handed it to Charlie, who held it gingerly against the swelling bruise. Not long after, Maria burst out of the school and ran toward them.

“Are you hanging in there with me?” Coach asked. She searched Charlie's face.

“Yeah,” said Charlie. “I'm okay.”

“Keep the ice on it.”

Charlie nodded. She tried not to look at the other players, who were all stealing glances her way. She wished they would stop.

Maria reached them and handed over the phone.

Charlie turned it on and hesitated, staring at her contacts and trying to focus through the threatening tears. She glanced at the staring players, and her lip trembled.

Coach Candy leaned closer. “Do you want some privacy?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Charlie nodded numbly.

“All right,” said Coach. “I'll keep the other girls occupied. Maria, stay with Charlie until her mom comes, okay? I'll be nearby if she wants to talk to me.”

“Got it, Coach,” said Maria.

Charlie nodded again.

“You played great, Charlie. I'm impressed.”

Charlie swallowed hard as more tears came. “Thanks.” She dialed her mom's new cell phone number and held the phone to her ear.

Coach Candy stepped a few yards away, staying close enough to monitor Charlie, and called out to Kelly, who was dribbling the ball nearby. “You okay to play, Kelly?”

“I'm good, Coach,” Kelly said.

Coach yelled to the other girls and clapped her hands. “Okay, everybody! Let's get this game moving. Direct kick blue!”

Charlie's mom's cell phone rang five times and went to voice mail. Charlie hung up and texted her mom to call immediately because of a soccer injury. Then she tried the ER desk and left a message for her mom to call Charlie's cell phone right away.

When Coach Candy saw Charlie set her phone in her lap, she checked in. “Still doing okay? Were you able to reach your mom?”

“I talked to the receptionist,” Charlie said. “She's going to tell my mom to call as soon as possible.”

Coach nodded and went back to watching the scrimmage.

Maria put her hand on Charlie's shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”

Charlie let a shuddering sigh escape and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I just hope it's not broken or my life is over. Kelly can really kick, that's for sure. I hope she didn't do it . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. “Never mind.” Of course Kelly wouldn't kick her on purpose—she was just playing the game. It could happen to
anybody. Charlie's leg throbbed.

“She's a tough player,” Maria said grimly. “I'm sure she feels bad, though. Your leg is swelling up like a balloon. It's horrible.”

Charlie squeezed her eyes shut. She leaned back against the bleachers and wondered why her mother was taking so long to call.

A few agonizing minutes later, Charlie's phone rang. “Mom!” said Charlie, fresh tears springing to her eyes. “Finally.”

“I got your message. Are you still at school? I'm on my way.” She sounded like a doctor. “What's the injury?”

Charlie told her.

“I'll be there in ten minutes,” Dr. Wilde said. “Elevate it!”

“Okay, Mom. Gosh,” Charlie said, her lip beginning to quiver again, “you don't have to yell.”

Charlie's mom's voice softened. “You're right, sweetie. I'm so sorry—I've got my work brain engaged. I bet it hurts a lot.”

“What if it's broken?” Charlie's voice pitched upward, and she started crying again. “What if I can't play? This is seriously the worst.” She pressed her fingers over her eyelids, trying to stop the tears.

“Hey, at least it wasn't your head,” Dr. Wilde said with a laugh. That line was a running joke in their family whenever anybody got hurt, and it annoyed Charlie and Andy whenever their mother said it. “I sure hope we don't have to amputate.”

“Not funny, Mother,” Charlie said. She rolled her eyes and
looked at Maria, and mouthed, “Doctor humor.”

Maria smiled and shrugged. “I'll go tell Coach your mom's coming,” she whispered, and Charlie nodded. Maria slipped away.

“You're totally right,” Mom said. “I was just trying to keep your mind off the pain. How is it? Do you have ice on it? Is it elevated like I told you?”

“Yeah,” said Charlie, wincing as she swiveled around to put her foot up on the bleacher seat. She lay back on the grass. “It's feeling a little better. Just . . . just hurry. Please.” Charlie wiped her eyes.

“I am, sweetie. I'll see you soon.”

They said good-bye and hung up as Maria came back.

“She'll be here soon,” Charlie said. “I'm okay sitting alone if you want to get back in the game.”

Maria frowned. “No, it's okay.” She sat on the bottom bleacher next to Charlie's foot and looked out over the field, watching the action. “I still can't believe how fast you are. Do you have like Olympian relatives or something?”

“What?” Charlie laughed despite the pain. “No. I was just having a good run, I guess. Until Kelly decided to play like a . . .” She glanced at Maria and bit her lip. “Sorry. I know she was aiming for the ball, not my leg. But jeez, this hurts!” She paused. “How close are you and Kelly?”

“We get along okay,” Maria said. “We don't hang out much, but she lives by me, so we carpool if it rains. And we'll watch
movies together or kick the ball around or whatever when we're bored. I've known her since preschool.”

“Oh.”

“She's . . . a lot more fun when there's not an audience,” Maria added carefully. “She acts differently when I'm with her one-on-one.”

Charlie looked at the sky, remembering the other day when Kelly seemed almost like she was going to confide in Charlie. That was a different Kelly from the one who swept through a crowd of adoring fans, then dissed them behind their backs.

“Anyway,” Maria continued, “all I'm saying is, she wouldn't try to hurt you. She's pretty competitive, though, so my guess is she was going to get that ball no matter what, and your leg got in the way.”

“That's good to know.” It didn't make it better, but Charlie knew she'd been guilty of the same thing in the past. It just hadn't resulted in injuring somebody this badly.

Charlie's mom arrived still wearing her hospital scrubs and carrying the first aid kit she always kept in the car.

“You didn't change?” Charlie asked, surprise in her voice.

“No time for that when my girl is hurt,” Dr. Wilde said with a smile. She knelt down in the grass next to Charlie and took her wrist in one hand. Her eyes locked on Charlie's as if she was already assessing the level of pain.

Charlie was familiar with that look.

“All right,” said Mom, turning to Charlie's leg, still elevated on the bleacher seat. “Let's see what we've got here.” Maria scooted out of the way to make room.

Charlie propped herself up on one elbow and lifted the ice pack. Her mom examined the injury, running her deft hands over the bones from ankle to knee.

“Wow, the swelling has gone way down already,” Charlie said, surprised. “You should have seen it twenty minutes ago.”

Maria nodded in agreement.

“How does it feel?”

“It hurts,” Charlie said, “but it's actually feeling a lot better.”

Dr. Wilde nodded. “It's a really nasty contusion, but I'm sure nothing's broken. I don't think we need an X-ray—let's see how the next few hours go.” She looked up. “You've got strong bones.”

Charlie sighed in relief. “So I might have a soccer season after all? If I make the team, I mean.”

“You'll need to take it easy for a few days, but as soon as you feel good putting your full weight on it, you should be fine to play.” Charlie's mom looked up as Coach Candy approached.

“Did I hear good news?” Coach asked. She held out her hand to Dr. Wilde. “Hi, I'm Candy Mason, the girls' soccer coach. Sorry to meet under these circumstances.”

Mom stood up and shook Coach Candy's hand. “Pleasure. And everything checks out okay. I'm pretty sure it's not broken.”

“That's what I thought I heard you say. Everyone will be glad to hear that.”

“I think she's done for today, though.” Dr. Wilde looked at Charlie. “Did you have a chance to show Coach what you could do?”

“She did,” Coach assured her. “The team roster will be posted on my office door before school tomorrow.”

Charlie bit her lip and glanced at Maria, who was standing a short distance away. Maria gave her a reassuring nod and made a face.

“Maria can help you get Charlie to the car,” Coach said.

“That would be great.” Dr. Wilde smiled at Maria, then held out her hand to Charlie to help her get up. Maria smiled back and came over to assist.

Charlie tested her leg and found she could put a little weight on it now. She limped between her mom and Maria, officially introducing them to each other along the way. They chatted about the scrimmage, and once they reached the car and Charlie was safely inside, Maria said a hasty good-bye. “I'll call you later to see how you're doing,” she said.

Charlie's face lit up. “Okay.”

Maria waved and bounded back to the field.

At home Charlie's mom helped Charlie change into sweats and a T-shirt, and then got her settled on the couch with her leg propped
up. Charlie automatically pushed her bracelet up her arm.

“Is that new?” asked Charlie's mom, pointing to it.

Charlie glanced at it. “Yeah. It was in a package on the front step with my name on it on the day we moved away. Do you have any idea who it's from? Grandma, maybe?”

Dr. Wilde studied the bracelet. “What a thoughtful gift! No, nobody said anything to me. Maybe Amari sent it?”

“No, I asked her already.”

“I guess it's a mystery,” Mom said with a smile. She turned and took another assessment of Charlie's injury. “Wow,” she said, surprised. “It's looking remarkably better. You must be a fast healer. Have you been eating extra veggies?”

Charlie laughed, thinking of all the pizza they'd had lately. “Not exactly.”

Charlie's mom squeezed her hand. “Well, whatever you're doing, keep doing it.” She smiled and picked up the TV remote, setting it on the coffee table between Charlie's backpack and her glass of water. “There, now you're all set for a while. If you need anything before Dad gets home, just yell for Andy.”

Charlie's face fell. “Aren't you staying?”

Dr. Wilde sighed, looking truly sorry. “I have to get back to the hospital.”

“Oh.” Charlie turned her head away.

“I'm sorry, honey. I really hope it feels better soon.” She brushed a strand of hair off Charlie's face.

“It's okay,” Charlie mumbled. “You know, it's kind of weird—it hardly even hurts anymore.”

When Maria called to check in, Charlie was cozily snuggled in her own bed, reading her favorite fantasy novel.

“Hi, Maria,” Charlie said.

“Chuck! You sound happier than you did.”

“My leg feels a lot better,” said Charlie. “I've been icing it. And my dog, Jessie, has been licking it. Which is kind of gross, actually, but thoughtful, I suppose.”