Chapter Fourteen: The Reasons Why

****Trev****

I couldn’t remember ever being in that much pain. My chest and the back of my head ached from the hit but that wasn’t anything compared to my neck. The insane pain was enough to tell me that there wasn’t going to be an easy fix for whatever was wrong, but as I laid there the next morning with Pam I told myself that the worst I was probably looking at was having surgery.

All I wanted was for someone to give me answers and tell me how I could fix it. I thought that might happen when the whoosh of the door hinted that someone was coming in the room, but the small footsteps on the linoleum floor told me I was in for another round with my nurse. 

“Good morning.” She chipperly smiled down at me and I grunted, waking Pam up. “Glad to see you’re in a better mood.” She grinned, completely ignoring my scowl and checked my IV. I’d run out of pain medicine about an hour before but hadn’t pushed the button for more and after noticing it, she looked back down at me. 

“Do you want any more?” She dropped the happy nurse act and seemed genuinely concerned.

“No.” I firmly stated, but they looked at me like I was crazy.

“Are you sure?” Pam asked as she sat up and placed a hand on my arm.

“No.” I repeated and scowled at her. “I don’t like how it makes me feel.” I didn’t feel in control of myself with them and decided that normal  pain medicine would have to do; no matter how much it hurt. Pam nodded and after the nurse brought me something else, she stood up and walked over to my side of the bed.

“Do you remember what happened?” She whispered as her fingers brushed a strand of my hair off my forehead.


“I remember getting hit, nothing after that until seeing you walk through that door,” I pointed to the one that everyone kept going out of, “and then it’s blank again until I woke up earlier in pain.” I knew that there was a lot more in between and it looked like she was about to fill me in when there was a knock on the door.

My stomach dropped as my eyes followed a doctor, Randy (one of the Buck’s trainers), Coach, and Jimmy. Seeing the last two removed any doubt about it being bad but even more telling was the fact that they wouldn’t look at me as they walked to other side of the room.

“Mr. Davila, I’m Dr. Fraser.” The doctor started after Pam helped me adjust the bed and pillows so I could sit up. It took a ton out of me to move and his forehead wrinkled with worry. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something else for the pain.”

I gave him a look that left little doubt about my determination to not change my mind and he nodded. “We’ve taken a look at the x-rays that we took last night. . .”

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” Jimmy interrupted and motioned to Pam. Her weight shifted to the foot closer to the door, like she was getting ready to take Jimmy’s hint about leaving and I grabbed her hand.

“She stays. Anything you want to say to me, you say it in front of her.” My eyes darted sideways at her, worried for a moment that she’d be upset that in one fell swoop I’d outed our relationship to everyone in the room. She gave me a small smile and placed her other hand over mine. Knowing we were on the same page, I turned my attention back to them.


They all nodded and then everyone focused on the doctor. He asked me what I remembered and  after telling him what I told Pam, he filled me in on some details. I’d been unconscious for over twenty minutes, woke up at the hospital asking for Pam, my family had been there and I’d seen my mom and brother. 

I looked at Pam when he was done, asking her with my eyes if what he was telling me was true. She nodded and I sat there completely stunned that I couldn’t remember any of it. It must have been obvious, since the doctor started to explain that it was normal to forget things after a trauma and while under the influence of heavy pain medication. Giving me another reason to not take anymore. 

He tried to make more small talk but all I wanted to know was what I needed to do to get back on the field. “Give it to me straight doc. How long of a recovery are we talking about?” There was a silent exchange between him and the others and after a nod from everyone, he pulled out the folder he’d been holding at his side. 

He walked over to an x-ray light on the wall, placed the film on it and turned it on. There in black and white was my neck bones, which to my eye looked just like any other neck x-ray, but I knew that wasn’t the case since they were showing it to us. He pointed to two of the lower neck bones and started explaining what we were looking at.

“You already had injuries to the C5 vertebrae. . .” He paused to look at me and I huffed an affirmative. “. . .You now have sustained a substantial injury to the C6 vertebrae as well. Another serious hit could be detrimental.  But with precaution, care and surgery you should regain most of the motion in your neck.” I sighed and smiled from the relief.


“So how long before I can be back on the field?” Their heads turned to look at me in perfect sync and with the same disbelieving expression on their faces.

After a couple of seconds the doctor spoke again. “No. . .Mr. Davila. Your neck cannot sustain another impact from playing football. The damage could be permanent.”

“You’re saying ‘could,’ So there’s still a chance that I could play at some point.” I was grasping for straws by that point. Not wanting to hear what they were telling me or to process their dumbfounded expressions or the fact that Pam’s hand had gone limp in mine and face had turned white as a ghost. 

“No, Mr. Davila. What I’m saying is that you shouldn’t play at all. Not if you don’t want to sustain a permanent injury.”

He repeated the term again but didn’t give me specifics. “You keep saying permanent. What exactly are we talking about.”

He paused and sighed. “Paralysis, Mr. Davila.”

That’s when it started to sink in. This wasn’t a temporary thing; wasn’t going to be something that they could fix so I could go back to playing for the Bucks. They were telling me my career was basically over, or at least should be.

I fought against it though, refusing to believe that I should just accept what the doctor was telling me and looked at the Randy, Coach and Jimmy. “What would happen if I went against medical advice?” It was my last ditch effort to hear the answer I wanted, but they couldn’t give it to me.

“The organization wouldn’t agree to it, not with the liability involved.” Jimmy whispered and Pam squeezed my hand. That’s when I knew it was real.

“So you’re telling me my career is over, right?! That’s what this is, isn’t it?! Because if the Bucks aren’t willing to take a chance on me, then who will?!” My voice echoed in the room and they all looked down at the floor. 

It seemed ridiculous to me that after all I’d been through and fought against to come back, that it would all end from a fucking neck injury. I felt jipped that I hadn’t gotten the chance to end things on my terms or play my last game knowing that it was. I was done. Had my career ripped from me and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it. 

The hopelessness of it all started to suffocate me and it felt like someone was punching me over and over again in my stomach.  “Trev. . .” Coach started and I leaned even further back into my pillows, staring at the ceiling to keep myself from spilling the contents of my stomach all over me and probably Pam.

“Just. . .leave.” I growled, hoping that they would make fast work of it so I didn’t have to see the pity in their eyes and they didn’t see me lose the battle with my stomach. Thankfully there was only a brief pause before their footsteps retreated into the hallway.


The second I heard the sound of the door closing, I started blindly fumbling for the sick pan I remembered seeing on a nearby tray. Pam grabbed it just in time and helped me hold it as I finally gave in and emptied my stomach. 

She handed me a towel and took it and the pan over to the sink when I was finished. Tears were streaming down my face at that point. I didn’t know if they were from getting sick or everything sinking in, Maybe they were from both, but I didn’t try to stop them and as Pam sat on the edge of the bed and put her arms around me, I sobbed, just like I had when we lost Dad.

There was no way for me to know how long we sat like that, but I was eventually able to will myself to stop and was completely embarrassed that I’d lost it in front of Pam. She tried to reassure me with her smiles and touches, but it didn’t matter.

If I’m being honest, if someone had offered me more pain meds or a drink, I would’ve given in. All I wanted to do was dull the pain and hopelessness that I felt and without either, I instead let myself slip down into the fog of shock and disbelief. 


Where I didn’t listen when the nurse came in and told us the instructions for my release, or say much when Will came in, not even protesting when Pam suggested Will take me home for some reason that I didn’t catch. I couldn’t blame her for leaving though, since in my mind it made sense that she wouldn’t want to stick around for more tears and sickness.

****Pamela****

Leaving Trev at that moment was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I knew that he was in good hands with Will and that I could help him more by leaving. The fact that Will agreed to my idea helped give me the reassurance I needed and after kissing Trev on the forehead, I sped back to my apartment. 

I wasn’t entirely sure what clothes or shoes I put in my bag. It seemed like I just haphazardly put anything that I could reach inside of it, but it was honestly the least of my worries and as I zipped the bag up, I turned my attention to one of the biggest.

In all that happened the night before, Bridge had given me her number. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to use it, that Trev would be the one calling her the next morning, but that was before he’d learned how bad his injury was. 

I wasn’t sure if Will had texted or called her, but even if he had, I needed to tell her what I had in mind and see if she was able to help. She was, and I checked one more thing off from my mental checklist of things to do.

Next was my Dad, Ryan and Stan. Each of them had texted me through the night and morning but up until that point, I’d only given them short updates. There was no way that I could keep them in the dark any longer, not if they were also going to help, and I texted each. They all agreed and I checked another thing off and texted Will about where to meet me.


There was only one other thing I needed to do and that was talk with Roger. I texted him, told him I was stopping by the office to talk and grabbed my bag. 

Less than fifteen minutes later I was facing his office door and silently praying that the unavoidable conversation that we were about to have would go better than I hoped.

“Yup.” He called through the closed door after I knocked and I took one final breath before opening it. I felt his expectant gaze follow me from the second I walked in and as I sat down across from him but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask why I hadn’t submitted an article or shown up for work. He just sat there, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded.

If I’d had more time, I probably would’ve stalled in giving him those answers, but I didn’t have that luxury. “You’re no doubt wondering why I didn’t write an article. . .” I started and he nodded.

“It’s something I’m wondering about, yes.” His voice remained even, giving no signs of what he really thought about it.


“I had to leave the game early.” I admitted and that’s when he sat forward, raising an eyebrow at me to continue. 

“And I need to take a couple of days off.” I added and he nodded, like I’d given him the missing piece to a puzzle that finally brought the picture into focus.  He knew, and I was equal parts relieved and surprised, even though everyone else had also figured it out.

“Is it bad?” He whispered and that’s when I lost it. He came out from his desk and sat down in the chair next to mine, holding my hand as I let out everything I’d tried to hold in. It took valuable time away from telling Roger what I needed to, but the doubt, worry and grief had finally found its release and I was at their mercy.

When I finally got to a point where I could talk again, I nodded and choked out a reply. “I can’t give you specifics, but yes.” 

He nodded and squeezed my hand. “Then take the time you need. We’ll talk about everything else when you get back.” Like my job. I thought but was grateful that he didn’t want to add that to everything else. I nodded and stood up.

“I’d better go.” I said and turned to walk towards the door, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me and he again shocked me by pulling me into a hug.

“It’ll be okay Pamela.” I normally would’ve questioned it; asked how he could be so sure with everything pointing to it all falling apart, but I needed to hear and believe those words at that moment, so I did.


I nodded as he let me go and told him I’d let him know when I’d be back. He gave me a sad smile and nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.” He said as he held the door open for me and I raced to make it to the meeting point.

My phone pinged from a message coming through right as I passed through the gate at the airport. I was sure it was Will, letting me know that he and Trev were there and as I pulled around to the hanger that housed Stan’s plane, I was proven right.

Will was getting out of the car, rushing to the passenger side as I pulled in behind them. I quickly grabbed my bag and hurried over to help him.

“What the hell is going on?” Trev growled at Will. His anger turning into confusion when I joined them.  “Why are we at the airport?” He demanded in a less angry voice but I could tell he wasn’t going to put up with not hearing any answers for much longer.

“We’re taking Stan’s plane to ASU.” I told him and he looked at me like I was completely crazy.

“Why would we do that?” He barked and I shook my head.


“Just, trust me Trev.” I didn’t wait for him to respond and left him looking irritated and confused as I turned to Will. “Are we good?” He held up Trev’s bag and I nodded. “Can you help me get him on the plane?” He nodded and we each grabbed one of Trev’s arms, encouraging him to move forward, even though he didn’t want to.

****Trev****

I got on the plane, bitching and complaining, but I did it. I wasn’t sure why accept for the fact that even in the midst of all the uncertainty I trusted Pam and figured she must’ve had a good reason for us going to ASU. What I was dying to know was what that reason was and how she’d gotten a hold of Stan’s plane.

She and Will made sure that I was okay in my seat and then she followed him out of the plane. I still couldn’t turn my head without the pain making me sick to my stomach, but could see them out of the corner of my eye standing at the bottom of the small set of steps. 

I hadn’t known when I introduced them to each other how they would plot against me and as I saw them hug and say goodbye I made a mental note to keep my eyes on the two of them going forward. I clearly couldn’t fight against the both of them when they got together, since I was sitting in a plane with no idea why.

Her footsteps sounded on the metal stairs and within seconds she was walking down the small aisle and taking the seat across from me. “Do you need anything? Water, more medicine?” She reached across and put her hand on my knee. I might’ve actually enjoyed it if I wasn’t so gungho about finding out why we were there.

“No. Now tell me how you got a hold of Stan’s plane and why we need it.”

She nodded, looked down at the floor and sighed. “I talked to Stan after I left the hospital.” She narrowed her eyes and her brows came together. “You don’t remember anything I said at the hospital, do you?” 

I sighed, since I couldn’t shake my head and didn’t want to admit to her that the only reason I wasn’t in the same fog that I was at the hospital was because her antics had forced me out of it. She pursed her lips and nodded. “I told you that I was leaving so I could talk to Roger and find a way for us to leave the city.”

“Why would we do that?” I argued with her. “Shouldn’t I be resting at home instead of flying to ASU?”

“You could do that, but in the next couple of days paparazzi are going to be camping out at your apartment, waiting to get their first look after your injury. . .” She hinted and I slowly blew the air out of my lungs. She was right. I wouldn’t get a moment's peace in Bridgeport. It was actually brilliant that she’d thought about it but I didn’t want to admit it at that point.


And I didn’t. I huffed, folded my arms across my chest and closed my eyes, pretending to try to sleep until I eventually did.

If I’d have paid closer attention, I would’ve realized that the car waiting for us at the airport was one of her parents’ cars. But I didn’t think anything about it as she led me to it and I sat inside as she put our bags in the trunk. 

She still hadn’t told me exactly where we were going. I’d guessed her parents’ house but as she started driving in the other direction I couldn’t keep my curiosity at bay.

“Where are we going?” She’d just turned onto a road that led up one of the taller hillsides in town and the tires spun a little in the slushy snow.

“The cabin.” She said as if I should know what that was.

“What cabin?” She smiled a little and nodded as she kept her eyes on the road.

“Our family cabin. Dad and Mom bought it soon after they moved here. We used to have family Christmas’ there until Dad became head coach and he wanted to be closer to campus. Now it’s used by each of us as a way to get away, even though it’s still in town.”

I started to understand what she meant as the cabin came into sight. It was far enough away from campus and everything else that it felt secluded. The trees surrounded three sides of it helped give it that feeling too, but it was the clear side, that faced the campus and had an amazing view of it, that reminded you that it was just right down the hill.

Any other time, I would’ve stood there and enjoyed it, but the exhaustion from what I’d been through was starting to hit me. That didn’t stop me from mentioning grabbing the bags but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wrapped an arm around my waist and led me up the porch stairs and through the front door.

As tired as I was, I barely noticed the living room and kitchen that we passed through to get to the stairs, or the cozy sitting area at the top of them. I thought about plopping down on one of the couches but she shook her head and led me through an opened door to a bedroom with a large bed. 

Not waiting for her to tell me, I carefully sat down on the edge as she disappeared through another doorway. I was about to lay my head down on one of the pillows when she came back in and stopped me. She’d gotten a glass of water and handed me some pills that I took while she somehow pulled the covers back, even though I was sitting on them. 


I don’t remember what happened to the glass, how I lost my shoes or shirt, who pulled the covers on top of me or if either of us said anything after that because I was finally able to lie my head on one of the fluffy pillows and fall asleep.

The room was dark except for the moonlight that came in from the large windows near the foot of the bed. It cast shadows in the unfamiliar room and I started to panic for a second, not remembering where I was until my eyes rested on a chair in the corner of the room.

Pam was curled up in a ball and the way her neck bent so her head could lie on the arm of the chair made mine hurt just looking at it. It had to be uncomfortable and it made no sense to me why she’d chosen to sleep there instead of the bed, next to me. 

Until a thought popped into my head: Maybe she doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore, because things have changed. I was a hasbeen, a guy down on his luck but worst of all, she’d learned the truth: I was a coward who couldn’t face what he was going through without lashing out at people and breaking down. 


She deserved better, and I took her lying in the chair as a sign that she’d come to the same conclusion. Thinking it made my stomach start to hurt like it had in the hospital. I knew I’d never make it back to the bathroom and I wasted no time running out to the balcony, thinking I’d empty my stomach when I got outside.

Breathing the cold air calmed me down and I ended up not getting sick. But instead of going back into the warmth of the bedroom, I stayed outside and walked even further out onto the balcony. I probably should’ve gone back inside, but the cold air felt good and the view of the campus distracted me from facing the shitstorm that had become my life.

“Aren’t you cold?” Her voice was a complete surprise and a hard smack back to the reality of the feelings I was trying to forget. I didn’t answer her, hoping that she’d walk back inside if I ignored her, but her footsteps on the wood told me she’d done the opposite.

“You should come inside. . .” She hinted and I closed my eyes, hoping that it would be enough to keep the tears from falling. It wasn’t and she noticed them the second she stood next to me.

“Are you in pain?” She whispered and I gripped the railing as hard as I could, trying to hold onto the sliver of control I had, but something about her touching my arm made it completely unravel and I gave up.


“You don’t have to do this.” I choked out the words and closed my eyes, sure that everything was going to come crashing down around me.

“Do what?” She whispered and tried to get me to turn and face her, but I pulled away and glared at her.

“This.” I motioned between us. “Us.” 

She shook her head and squinted at me. “What are you talking about?”

“You can’t want this; me.” I choked. “How could you? I’m not the same person anymore!” I tried to walk away but she stepped in front of me and I was forced to stop.

“Yes, you are.” She said it so matter of factly that it pissed me off.

“No, I’m not!” I’d stopped crying but a rage was building inside of me that I was quickly losing control of. “I”m not the same person! I’m a hasbeen! A loser! A washed up quarterback! How could you want that?!” I tried to walk away again but she was quicker than me and blocked my escape path.


“Do you really think that’s why I love you?!” She glared at me, daring me to answer her and looking at me like I was insane. It got worse when I shrugged. She inched closer, completely blocking me from escaping and got that look in her eyes, like she was about to let me have it.

“Let me clarify for you, then.” She still looked pissed but her tone softened as she continued. “I love the passion you have for the things you love. How protective you are of the people you care for and how you make each of them know how special they are to you.”

“I love your giving spirit and how you never need credit for anything you do, even when what you’ve done has a lasting impact on people.”

“I love that you’re so willing to forgive people. . .” She started to tear up and I felt my stomach sink. “Because if you didn’t, this. . .” She copied the motion I’d made between the two of us. “. . .wouldn’t have happened.”

She shook her head, pointed her finger and looked completely determined as she took another step closer. “But it did happen and you are not going to push me away!” Something about saying it made her lips tremble and tears fall down her cheeks. I found out why when she whispered, “I thought I’d lost you once, and I’m not letting that happen again.” 

I was about to ask her what she meant but she didn’t give me a chance. “When I saw you fall on the field, I didn’t know. . .” She bit her lip and swallowed hard while she looked up at the dark sky. “I thought I’d lost you.” She whispered and shook her head. “It was only for a moment, but I thought it, and it felt like. . .”

“. . .someone was tearing your heart out of your chest and punching you in the stomach,” I finished for her and her head snapped back down to look at me. It’s exactly what I felt every time I thought about her not loving me anymore and not playing football again.

“Yes.” She whispered and moved closer. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again.” She stopped inches from me, got up on her tiptoes so she could look me straight in the eye and put her arms around me. “Which means that your stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” 


The relief from hearing her say it made me fall apart and she sunk down to the balcony floor with me. She held me while I cried, stroking and kissing the top of my head, whispering “I love you’s” and telling me that it was okay. It was the first time since before getting knocked unconscious that I felt a sliver of hope that everything would be.

Sometime later that morning, I convinced Pam to help me move to one of the couches downstairs. The pain in my neck was still bad enough that it made me feel sick sometimes, but I couldn’t take being cooped up in the bedroom for another minute.

It was after she got me situated with some magazines (all dated within the last month), snacks (that she never left the house to get), and sweet tea that it started to dawn on me that more people were involved in my kidnapping to the cabin than just Pam, Will and Stan. 

My suspicions were later confirmed when there was a knock on the front door just after lunch and Coach walked in. He gave me a small smile and nod before Pam came around the corner from the kitchen and hugged him. 

There was some whispering, a smile from her as she went back into the kitchen and then Coach took a seat on the couch closest to me. 

We sat in silence; surprisingly not an uncomfortable one. More like the kind that happens when both people understand without having to say a word. It eventually had to end though, and it did when he sighed and I tried to prepare myself for the pep talk I was sure he was about to give me. 

“So, what’s next?” The directness of his question floored me, enough that I forgot how bad of an idea it was for me to move my head and started to shake it. 

“Right now I’d be happy if I could move my neck without feeling like I’m about to get sick.” I growled at him and from my stupidness from moving it. He nodded and gave a snort.

“You’ll get there. But I mean. . .”

“I know what you mean.” I snapped at him. I couldn’t ever remember talking to him like that and he looked pissed enough that I figured he’d get up and leave.

He didn’t. Instead he reached into his pocket and walked over to me, holding out a folded up piece of paper. “Read it.” He commanded in a way that made me listen to him and I sighed as I unfolded the worn page.

The first thing I noticed was it was Dad’s handwriting, and I looked over at Coach as he was sitting back down. His eyes darted up from the floor long enough for him to give me a nod of encouragement and I slowly looked back at the faded date at the top of the page. 


October twenty-eighth. Two days before he died. The familiar ache in my heart begged me to not read the rest and I might’ve listened to it, if it wasn’t for wanting to know why Coach was showing it to me.

Nick,

I wanted to thank you again for taking the time to show Trev and me the campus and the athletic facilities.  I’ve got one fired up future Stallion, and it’s thanks to you and your family welcoming us to campus and your home!

I know I’ve mentioned this to you before (and you’re probably sick of me telling you), but one of the things that I’m most thankful for in my time at ASU is our friendship. You know that I got a bum knee in high school from playing and that it led to me picking physical therapy as my backup, but what I’ve never told you was how your friendship helped me get through it.

It’s never something you want to hear, that your hopes and dreams of playing are over. I was fortunate enough to find my next thing soon after my injury, but it was still hard to wrap my head around in those first couple of years at ASU. Your friendship and support made it better; easier to bare.

It’s one reason why I’m confident that ASU is the right place for Trev. I have no doubt that you’ll look after and support him, just like you did with me.

Look forward to seeing you soon! We’ll have to get the families together, maybe this summer.

Your friend, always,

Carson

I stared at the note for what felt like forever, tears pooling in my eyes as I carefully folded it and looked up at the ceiling to try to keep them from falling.

“Right now, you’re probably thinking that everything is over. That you’ve lost it all.” He paused, like he was waiting for me to answer him, but I couldn’t and he continued on. “Maybe you’re angry, feel like something’s been taken from you and you’d jump at any shot to get it back.” 

He’d hit the nail on the head and I closed my eyes from the pain of hearing it. “I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t be upset or mad. That’s normal and everyone that’s been through this feels that way. Even your dad.” My eyes snapped open and I saw him pointing to the letter I was still holding.

“But you do have a choice of how you’re going to move forward. Just like your dad did. So I’ll ask again: What’s next?”