Chapter Twenty-Eight

"It's just a hairline fracture," Doctor Reynolds explained, holding up the x-rays to the iridescent lighted screen, "It's not anything too serious, just very painful. It should heal on its own within a few weeks."

"Doctor, what about hockey?" George asked the question on everyone's mind, "He has a big hockey game very soon and there'll be scouts."

Derek winced. His father would make this about the scouts. But he did have a point. Derek knew college was a long shot for him without scholarships or an offer to play on the Queens team. He felt his stomach tighten. Surely if it was just a sprain it'd heal up pretty quickly. He'd sprained his ankle before countless times and it was always better within a day or two.

"I'm afraid playing hockey is out of the question," the doctor explained, "Even though you may feel healed up, there's no telling what could happen on that ice. You could slip or there could be another fall. Skating isn't like walking on the solid ground, which I am sure you know. You have to put pressure on different parts of your foot and find that balance. I don't see that happening with this sprain. I'm sorry, Mr. Venturi," Derek wasn't sure he was apologizing more to, him or his father.

George didn't say anything, just ran a hand through his hair. Casey was wringing her hands. Derek knew she felt guilty. It wasn't her fault. Not entirely. Accidents happen, he knew they both knew that. But knowing Casey, she was taking this very personally. Derek wanted to be mad, he really did. Not at her, but at someone - something. This was his shot and he felt it ripped out underneath him. That was more painful than the sprain in his foot. He wanted to yell at someone but he knew that'd make it worse on Casey. He couldn't let her see how upset this was making him. It was bad enough she felt this bad already. He could make her feel any more guilty. Sighing, he nodded, accepting the doctor's verdict.

"We are all so sorry, Derek," Nora patted his knee through the hospital blanket, "Really."

"Yeah," Derek didn't know what else to say. At this point, he just wanted to go home, "When can we leave? I'd uh...I'd like to go home."

"Of course," the doctor nodded, "I'll have the nurse come back in and get you all checked out. I'm sorry about this."

Derek shrugged. The doctor left and they were all alone in the quiet again.

"Well, I am going to look into some other scholarships we can try for," George shook his head, "There's got to be something. Maybe you could do some volunteer work. Colleges like volunteer work, Derek. This was your shot..."

Derek winced again, not wanting to hear this.

"George," Nora reached over to put her hand on his shoulder, "That's enough. Derek doesn't need that added stress right now. It won't help anything at this point."

After the nurse got all the paperwork squared away, they were free to leave. Derek was given a pair of crutches and a prescription for Demerol to help with the pain. Once they got home, Nora and George got the recliner all set up for Derek since stairs were not an option. They set it up like a bed, tucking in sheets and a blanket, and bringing him a pillow. Once the recliner was all set up, they helped him lie back in it.

"Just call if you need anything," Nora explained, "And you are welcome to use our bathroom. Do you need anything from your room?"

"I'm fine," Derek lied, eyeing Casey leaning against the wall, far away from him and still looking as though the world had just ended, "Really. Don't worry about it. Thanks though."

"Sure thing," Nora nodded. She gave Derek a small kiss on his forehead before she and George headed down to their basement bedroom. Marti, Edwin, and Lizzie had been ushered up to their rooms when they had gotten home. George had said something about not wanting them to "excite Derek" whatever that meant. The only person left was Casey. Derek wanted to say something to her and offer her an assuring word or two, but had no idea where to begin. Instead, he reached forward to get the remote from the coffee table. He couldn't reach. Casey quickly abandoned her post along the wall and handed him the remote.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her.

"No problem."

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to sit and watch something on TV with me."

Casey obediently sat down on the couch next to him. She had no idea what to say and felt horrible. She honestly wanted to disappear upstairs and forget this whole night had even happened. It had been stupid of her to expect the hockey team to be able to dance like they had before their big hockey game. She should have thought. What if someone had gotten hurt before the championship? Like Derek had. Casey watched as Derek clicked through the channels. The Cutting Edge was on. Derek groaned.

"I got to get back on that ice, Case," he said, watching the screen, "I just have to try."

"You heard what the doctor said, Derek. You could make it worse, or get yourself seriously injured. It's not a good..."

"I have to. Hockey is my only chance at college, Case. If I don't impress the scouts, that's it for me. Can you help me?"

"Derek...I wouldn't know what to do..."

"Please, Case. I just need you to drive me to the ice rink, okay? Help me...put on the skates and...help me on to the ice. I can do this if I just try. I know I can. I have to. Please. I need you to help me."

"The doctor..."

"I don't give a damn what the doctor said!" Derek hissed, "If I don't do this, no college. I have to at least try."

Casey was floundering. Derek rolled his eyes. He knew it was mean, but he needed her to be on board with this. Sighing, he said, "Look, you're partially responsible for me being in this position. The least you could do is help."

Casey felt as though he had slapped her. She recoiled and quickly took her eyes off of him, unable to look him in the eye. She couldn't believe he had just said that to her, but she knew he was right. He'd never be in this position if it wasn't for her. All he was asking for was some help. Sighing, she nodded.

"Fine," she said, and he could hear her voice crack under the pressure of the words, "I will take you to the ice rink tomorrow."

"Thank you," Derek replied coolly. At least it had worked. She was going to help. He was going to get out on that ice and prove that doctor wrong. He was going to play in the championship and he was going to impress the scouts, and he was going to go to university.