CONCUSSION

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It had been a miracle when I was able to get out of taking gym my freshman year. My schedule hadn't quite worked out because I was in an advanced math class that conflicted with the gym time slot. Now I was starting to think it was a curse. Unfortunately, I still needed a gym credit to graduate, and instead of being stuck with all the freshmen for a class, I was stuck with all the athletic students in my year who needed to fill a credit hour and decided just to take another gym class.

Needless to say, I had some hardcore regrets.

I changed quickly, ignoring everyone around me in the change room and shoving my clothes and backpack into one of the lockers. Someone had stolen my lock last week, and I had forgotten to pick up a new one, so I had no choice but to leave my things there and hope nobody messed with them.

I smoothed down my shirt and entered the gym. A few guys were playing with a basketball they'd found laying around while others in the class just sat around talking. Seeing as the teacher hadn't arrived yet, I walked over to the bleachers and sat patiently. I'd gone to school with most of these kids since kindergarten, but there were a few newer faces among them. Jamie Carlson, a girl with long, straight brown hair and freckles, had come here during freshman year. Now she was super into the volleyball scene and had lots of friends. Kaitlyn Fisher had curly blond hair and was pretty involved in our school's chapter of the National Honor Society, as well as being the founder of an afterschool book club. She'd started here at the beginning of last year.

Jordan was the newest student. He had dark-brown, neatly styled hair, and seemed to have a bright smile on his face every time I saw him. He stood off to one side of the gymnasium, engaged in conversation with Penelope Dunn, a small red-headed girl I'd shared classes with since preschool. I watched them interact for a little bit. From what I could tell, he seemed pretty friendly—hopefully he would be an all right lab partner.

Mr. Mason walked in. The man had only been teaching here for about six years. He was on the younger side, as far as staff went, and was pretty much here to take over for Coach Hanover once he actually decided to retire fully. Hanover had been the gym teacher and a coach at Pinecrest for several decades. In recent years he had started handing off some of his duties to other people. Mr. Mason was now the gym teacher as well as the coach for girls' varsity and junior varsity volleyball. He was younger, fitter, and friendlier than Coach Hanover, and for that, I was thankful. One year with Hanover as a gym teacher was enough to make you feel like you'd just gone through boot camp for the military.

Mr. Mason walked toward the center of the gymnasium with a soccer ball under his arm and whistled loudly, signaling us to stop what we were doing and gather around for instructions. I pushed myself up off the bleachers and jogged across to where everyone was accumulating.

"All right, kids," he began, his voice booming through the gym. "It's pretty nice out, so we're going to be having soccer tournaments outside today. Head out to the field. I'll split you into groups there."

Most of the class swarmed the doors leading outside. A few of us, however, decided to walk at a more leisurely pace to avoid the chaos. Mr. Mason studied his clipboard as he followed. By the time I reached the exit, most of the class was already outside. I was surprised when Jordan, just in front of me, paused to hold the door for me.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem." He gave a friendly smile and, once I had my hand on the door, went jogging to catch up with some of our other classmates and continue the conversation they'd been having. I held the door open for the people behind me as well.

He was definitely a nice person. Chemistry shouldn't be too bad.

As we reached the middle of the soccer field, Mr. Mason started reading off pairs of names. "Oh boy," I muttered to myself when I heard my name paired with Cole Decker's. This was going to be an interesting class.

"Oh come on, Mr. Mason," Cole complained. I looked over and saw him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "Can't I have a different partner?"

"No, Mr. Decker. You will be Elliot's teammate, and you will like it."

Cole sent me a murderous glare as Nate and Morgan snickered at him. The teacher walked off to pair up more people. I was just grateful that we were playing on the field today, where there was nice green grass to break my fall.

I shrank a bit as Cole approached me. "If you make me look like an idiot out there, I will personally kill you," he said, scowling at me.

You already look like an idiot, I thought. At least this time, I had the common sense to keep my mouth shut.

"All right, everyone," Mr. Mason called out once the class was situated. "As I said, today we are facing off, tournament style. There will be two games going at all times. One on this field, and one on the field over there," he said, pointing to the adjacent field. "The rules are pretty simple: try not to foul, and the first team to three points wins."

I sighed at the notion that I had to stay out there until three points were scored.

"First up, I want Decker and Goldman against Anderson and Hughes!"

Cole and Nate? Now I was definitely going to die.

Cole and Jordan stepped up to fight for the ball while I stayed back and tried to ignore the smirk on Nate's face when he glanced my way. I had a bad feeling about this and cursed myself as the game began. I wasn't watching, so I quickly fell a couple of steps behind as Cole did his best to dribble past both of the opposing teammates on his own. Not that he'd actually pass me the ball or anything.

As it turned out, Jordan was a pretty aggressive and skilled soccer player. His fancy footwork allowed him to steal the ball from Cole a couple of times, only for Cole to steal it right back. I decided to run toward the goal in case Cole decided to shoot for it and missed, but unfortunately, Nate saw what I was doing and ran forward to trip me. He snickered as I fell to the ground, but my fall was enough to distract Jordan, allowing Cole to take a clear shot at the goal.

Since we'd gotten the first point, Nate now started off with the ball, with Cole attempting to block him. I took it upon myself to stand near Jordan in case Nate tried to make a pass. I wasn't at all surprised when the ball came flying toward us.

Jordan easily caught the ball by bouncing it off his chest and immediately started dribbling toward our goal. I rushed forward and was able to snag the ball from him when he accidentally bumped it out of his reach. I turned around and started toward the other end of the field. Jordan was on my heels, and I saw both Cole and Nate running toward the goal—and beyond them, a clear shot. I took it. The thud of the ball against my foot was satisfying. I watched as it soared straight into the goal without any resistance.

Cole pursed his lips, probably upset that I took away some of his glory. Nate looked positively murderous.

"Nice shot," Jordan said, praising me as he jogged around with the ball. I hung back as Cole moved to guard him, but at the last minute changed his mind and went to guard Nate instead. Frowning, I stepped forward.

Jordan smirked as he bounced the ball between his feet. He passed it quickly to his teammate. There wasn't enough time for me to block it, but I did my best to keep up with him as he ran down the field. It didn't take long for Cole to steal the ball from Nate; as soon as he did, I followed Jordan back to the other end of the field, where he was running to take position as goalie.

However, on the way there, something hard hit me in the back of the head. I lurched forward. In a panic, I reached out to grab hold of something. The closest thing happened to be Jordan, who was only a few steps in front of me. I got a fistful of his sleeve as I went down, but it was enough for him to turn around in surprise and try and help me.

Cole, of course, smugly caught the rebound and easily made another point while Jordan was distracted.

I hit the ground hard, wincing as the wind was knocked out of me, which left me sputtering like a fish in front of the entire class. It took a couple of seconds for my lungs to release. Once they did, I sucked in air greedily and started to cough.

"Hey. You're okay," Jordan said, comforting me by placing a hand on my shoulder. "Just breathe."

"What do you think I'm doing?" I snapped, irritated, though it didn't seem to have much effect on him. I clutched my head and groaned, engulfed by sudden pain, thinking I might've hit it on the way down as well.

Mr. Mason saw me on the ground and made his way over. He knelt down in front of me and asked me a few questions, like my name and where I was. He also made me follow his finger with my eyes before frowning and saying, "I don't think it's a concussion, but you should still go to the nurse's office to make sure."

Great.

"I'll help him there," Jordan said before I could object. "Thank you, Mr. Hughes," Mr. Mason said. He stood back up and tried to settle down the class again.

"Come on," Jordan said, and held out his hand for me.

Still holding my thundering head with one hand, I took his with my other and slowly got to my feet. If nothing else, at least I'd scored a point.

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