Heading for Disaster
Obvious FYI: I don't own anything that even remotely has to do with the O.C.!
"Alright, you've got 30 minutes to get your asses back into gear. So they're pushing you around, push them back, cleanly. We don't need any injuries. Get position. Let the referee handle the calls, you play the ball. I want them beat in the air and first to on the ground. We need to capitalize on the free kicks. Atwood?"
"Yah, Coach?"
"I want you on Stevens for the second half. Ward, I want you on the left side and don't let Jacobs out of your sight. Got it? The rest of you, I better not see any Knight left unmarked. Understand? Now lets go. I don't have to remind you of what's at stake. Hands in. Harbor on three."
"One, two, three!" Luke yelled.
"Harbor!" Answered the team and Coach Dunn.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," the voice on the loudspeaker sang loud and clear as the Harbor varsity soccer team was about to take the field. "We are about to begin our second half in tonight's battle of the undefeated. As you can see, the score is still 0-0. Lets hear you, Harbor fans!!" The crowd erupted into a echoing cheer.
Ryan looked up into the stands. They were packed. He could see Sandy and Kirsten at the top of the risers, looking nervous, Kirsten's legs bouncing up and down. Seth was over with Summer and Marissa in the student section. Ryan laughed to himself, never having seen Seth wear face paint for a soccer game before. He would have picked X-Men convention over high school sports.
The ref signaled to the goalies and blew the whistle. It was Tabor Academy's ball to start the second half. The game so far was scoreless, but had been one of the most eventful games Ryan had ever played in. Three yellow cards had already been given to Tabor players and endless set pieces for Harbor had been awarded. The Knights were notorious for playing dirty and won many of their games by rattling the other teams.
Ryan spotted Brett Stevens, number 22 and the only decent player on the Tabor team. Ryan began to backpedal slowly, keeping his mark and the ball in sight.
Slowly Ryan thought to himself. There he is, watch him, good. There's the pass, where'd it go? Deflected. Back to them, shit! Shit! That's me, that's me Ryan was even with Brett but managed to get a foot around it and block the pass. It sailed over the midfield and into Tabor territory.
"You little Chino bitch," Brett whispered snidely. Ryan ignored him and pushed the defense up. He would love to catch Brett Stevens offside.
Back and forth the game went, nothing solid happening besides free pieces. Harbor came close once with a piece on the 20 yard line but the kick was tipped by the goalie and blasted down the field by the Tabor back. Luckily the Tabor offense was weak and Ryan was keeping them out of the game.
Ryan was frustrated. He was more than frustrated, he was fucking pissed off. Tabor had no talent but kept Harbor at bay by ruining any momentum. Finally, with 10:33 to go in the game, Coach Dunn took a well needed time out.
"Ok, I know. Settle down. Don't let them get to you."
"But Coach--"
"No, no. Don't say a thing. I know it's unfair but keep playing your game and it'll come. We almost had that goal. Keep focused and finish this thing. Lets go. Harbor on three!"
Luke threw the ball in and sent it down the left lane perfectly in the corner. A perfect cross, but an even better deflection, and another break wasted.
The ball was coming towards Ryan's side now, bouncing on the uneven grass and three people were crowding around it, kicking more shins than ball. Finally it got loose but was sent in the air.
Ryan, Brett, and another Tabor striker went up for the header. As soon as the ball came near him, Ryan knew something was wrong. He could feel elbows on his back and a shoulder near his neck. Ryan jumped as high as he could, trying to thwart off the obviously fouling Tabor players but as soon as the ball came near the boys, a searing pain shot through Ryan's head. The Tabor players had completely missed the ball, instead both colliding with Ryan knocking him to the ground.
The whole stadium was quiet as they saw Ryan falling dazed and confused, right on his back. It seemed like he dropped in slow motion, first the smash on the head and then the unprotected crash onto the hard ground. Ryan lay supine on the field, eyes closed, not moving.
As soon as Ryan went down, the team immediately rushed to his side, only to be shooed away by the referee. Luke started at Brett but was held back by another Harbor player.
"Ryan? Ryan? Can you hear me, son? Open your eyes, Ryan." Coach Dunn was kneeling beside his player, gently shaking his shoulder. Nothing.
Sandy and Kirsten had stood up in the stands, unsure of the damage. Even though they were way up in the crowd, they could feel the seriousness of the situation. Everyone had their hands over their mouths and were whispering to each other, no longer excited. Marissa had tears in her eyes and tried to see the situation.
Coach Dunn stood up and signaled for Sandy and Kirsten who were already making their way down the stands and running onto the field.
"Ryan?" Kirsten yelled with Sandy on her heals. "What happened? Is he ok? Ryan, honey? Ryan talk to me."
"We've called an ambulance. He's been out the whole time," admitted Coach Dunn.
Sandy knelt down beside his son. "Hey, kid. Come on." He could hear the siren in the distance, grateful that help was near.
Just then, Ryan's eyes began to flutter. Everything was out of focus and he could barely make out voices. Were they talking to him? Was that Sandy? What was he doing here?
"Ryan? Ryan can you hear me?" Sandy repeated over and over. The more times he heard it, the clearer everything became. The first real sensation Ryan felt was uncontrollable pain in his head and back. He tried to roll over to his side but was taken aback when he found he couldn't muster the strength to turn his body. Was that all it was? Was he too weak to move to the side? He began to panic when he tried again unsuccessfully to move his legs.
The paramedics had arrived on scene and Kirsten and Sandy moved out of the way as they ran with their gear.
"What's his name?" One paramedic asked.
"Ryan. Ryan Atwood. He's 16," Kirsten replied quickly, tears streaming down her face.
"Ryan? Ryan can you look at me? My name's John. I'm going to help you out, buddy. Look at me, Ryan."
Ryan turned his head in the general direction, having trouble focusing on John. The other paramedic started to take vital signs.
"Ryan can you squeeze my fingers?" John tickled the inside of Ryan's left palm. A pause and nothing happened. "Come on, Ryan you can do it." Pressure on John's hand. "That's it, good! Now this hand." John moved to the right side as his partner had finished with the vitals and was scribbling on a piece of paper and moved to get the neck brace off the gurney. Again, slight pressure from Ryan on John's hand. "That's great! You're doing great, Ry. Now can you wiggle your toes?" Nothing happened. Ryan was trying so hard to at least get some message to his feet. "You can do it, Ryan. Come on." Panic again.
"Can't," he slurred out.
"Yes you can. Come on."
"Can't move legs," Ryan slurred and began to tear and everyone around him held their breath, Sandy pulling his wife into a hug.
"Ok, Ryan hold on. My partner Sam is going to put a neck brace on, ok?" John waited a minute before talking again. "Can you feel this, Ryan?" John pinched the soccer cleat hard.
"A little," Ryan admitted, glad that he could offer something.
"How about here?" John pinched the calf of Ryan's right leg.
Ryan nodded as best he could with the neck brace on.
"So you can feel it a little, just not move it?" John concluded and again the scared teenager nodded slightly. "Ok, just hold tight, buddy."
In a few minutes John and Sam had Ryan strapped in on the backboard and fully immobile and were lifting him into the ambulance.
"Please! Please can I ride with him? I'm his mother. Is he going to be ok?" Kirsten was hysterical.
"Yes, ma'am. You can come but you need to come quickly we've got to get him to the hospital fast." Kirsten jumped into the back and barely heard Sandy yell that he would grab Seth and meet them at the hospital.
Sandy turned around to run back to the stands and find Seth and head for the parking lot. He didn't have to look far as the teenager was running towards his father.
"Dad! Dad what happened? Is he ok? What's wrong?!" Seth was frantic.
Sandy and Seth began to run towards the BMW. Once they were speeding out of the school, Seth asked again.
"Dad! Tell me! What they fuck is happening?!"
"He's in and out of consciousness and he couldn't move his legs, Seth. He can feel them, just not…not move them."
Seth began to cry.
"What?! What does that mean? Is he paralyzed? Dad?"
"I don't know, Seth. I don't know."