The nurse folds her arms over her chest. “It’s not bleeding all that much.”

“I don’t want to get blood on my uniform. Laundry day isn’t until Saturday.”

While I talk, I keep trying to peek over the partition. It’s only when another nurse moves that I see the bed where I left Sarah. It’s empty.

“Fine. Wait one second.” She turns away. “I’ll give you a few so you don’t come back and bother me for this nonsense.”

I nod, but inside, I grow panicked.

“Is Sarah here?” I spit out, and the nurse turns back.

“Who?”

I look back at the bed again, making sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. “Sarah. My roommate. She was throwing up,” I remind her. “I brought her in the other day.”

The nurse shakes her head. “I’m not sure who you’re talking about.”

My eyes widen. “Yes. You do. You were taking care of her.”

I know it was her. I remember her shamrock earrings. One of them is missing a rhinestone.

“If I did, and she’s not here or in your room, she’s gone then. Take these and go,” she tells me. “And don’t come back here unless you’re dying.”

I wake with a jolt, my face and the pillow damp with my tears.

Maybe I should’ve known in that moment Sarah was gone.

Maybe I should know now that it’s better if I go too.

Chapter 40

In all actuality, preseason games have little to do with the game and everything to do with morale. Do we want a win? Hell yes, we want a win. But do we want to see how far we’re willing to go for each other more? Yes.

If I had to grade our team morale following our win against Tampa, I’d give it a solid two out of ten. I’m not mad I didn’t get so many reps. Not in the least, actually. I’m happy I rode the bench, and not just because I didn’t have to worry as much about getting hurt. No. Riding the bench let me take a look at the sidelines for nearly the entirety of the game.

And what I found? What I counted? Forty-three times Coach got in someone’s face. Six of those were after touchdowns. But I realized in the third quarter, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Down the sideline stood Heath. And he wasn’t watching the game. He was watching Foller too.

“I bet you good money we get an interim head coach by the middle of the season,” Josh says, tapping his fingers against his helmet he holds.