Katherine figures it out before I can even say anything. "Andreas, let that shit go. You can't go out there and hurt yourself to shove it to James."
His mother curses, "Andreas, is this about that boy who took Jessie from you? I didn't even know that he was playing for Stanford. Did you honey?" She turned to ask her husband.
He was as clueless as she was, "No idea."
Andreas hops off the bed, and stands steadily on his feet, with no sign of dizziness or excuses of him not being able to go to the game. He cradles his arm to his chest while walking over to the chair that holds his pads and jersey. He starts to dress.
To our luck, the doctor walks in. "Doctor, did you say that my son can go back out to the game, even though his arm is sprained and he was knocked to the ground."
His eyes widen, he just walked into the room and is being confronted by an angry mother. He puts his clipboard in the slot and inserts his hands in his white coat. "Ah, yes I did."
She pops her hip, "And why would you sign off on this?" We all give him our undivided attention.
He gulps, "His arm is sprained, yes, but that wouldn't stop him from playing football. He doesn't throw anything; all he does is guard. He can take someone down with one arm, he's done it before. If he was a minor, I could stop him, but with him being an adult, and not to be rude, but he doesn't need your permission, I can't stop him."
"This is absurd!" His father says, running his fingers through his hair. Now that I look at him, I see where Andreas gets his looks from. I wonder why he couldn't get his father's rationality. He has to know this is crazy, we can't be the only ones that think, no wait, knows this is crazy. "Son, you can't go out there."
He slips on his jersey. For him to only use one arm, he put on his padding and jersey very quickly. "You don't have to agree with me, that's fine, but I'm going out there. After this game, I'll stay at home and rest, if that's what you want."
"No, I want you to go home and rest now, not later." says his mother. I can see the fear written all over her face. She just looks at him, like she's trying to process what is going on. Katherine just shakes her head, wondering too what got into her brother.
He walks past all of us, not looking at our jaws dropping to the ground with shock. Once he gets to the door, he turns and looks straight at me. "Elizabeth, you support me, right?" His voice was dire. He needed at least one of us to support this irrational idea, and since I was the girlfriend, and by the boyfriend-girlfriend imaginary laws, I should be agreeing with him.
Well, sorry to break it to you, but I can't on this one. I'll be glad to go to boyfriend-girlfriend court and hash this one out.
"No, I don't. I'm siding with your family."
He scoffs, "Are you serious? You're my girl, we're supposed to back each other up, no matter how crazy you think the idea is. I would do this for you." Would he, though? Would he?
I roll my eyes, "No, you wouldn't have. You would barricade yourself against that door before you would let me out and hurt myself and you know it." I walk over to him, my eyes wide and pleading. I talk to him quietly, so his family won't hear. It's not like they will anyway, they're arguing amongst themselves, wondering what the hell is wrong with Andreas. "Baby, please, don't go out there. I know you want to show James that you're better, I get it, but at what expense? This is your well-being we are talking about, I had to watch you get shoved to the ground, that image will forever be embedded in my brain until the day I die. I- I can't, no, I won't watch you go out there." I grab his hand, cradling it to my chest, wanting him to hear the racketeering of my heart against my chest. "Please, baby, please don't."
His lips connected with my forehead, they were soft and comforting. I absorb his smell, his touch, and the way his body heat lingers all over me. The way his fingers comb through my hair, makes the tension from my shoulders drift away. "I have to go. This is something I've been working on for my entire football career. James is the driving force for the game, I won't lie to you, but even if he wasn't out there, I would still go. Nothing is going to keep me from going out there."
"Not even me?" I say quietly.
He sighs, "Don't say it like that, Elizabeth. Don't you dare say it like that, this has nothing to do with you. Look, I need to go." He tries to move away, but I grip his hand. I want to wrap my entire body around him, hold him hostage. I would gladly go to jail for it. "Let me go." I shake my head. He kneels to my level. "I need you to let go, you have to let me, please." His eyes plead with me; his body pleads with me. I realize something at that moment, I'm not enough for him.
I'm not enough to stop him.
I always thought I was enough.
I let go of his hand, feeling the coldness tangle up my arm. Walking to the chair, I grab my purse and shove past him through the door. He stumbles back but I don't care, I need to get the hell out of here.
"Where are you going, Elizabeth." I hear the door shut behind me and huge feet stomping in my direction. A hand grabs me and turns my body around.
"I'm leaving. There is no way I'm going out there and watching you play. You don't want to support my decision to not watch you play, fine, not my problem. I won't watch you get hurt again." My voice breaks at the last sentence. "I can't, I won't." I jerk my arm from his grip and proceed down the hall.
He wants to hurt himself again over some rift, fine, but I won't be there to support it.
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