The Springfield post passed the ball to her teammate, but Shaena remained on the floor, dazed and holding her head. Bright stars clouded her vision. Her ears were ringing. She tried to stand up, but a surge of dizziness kept her on the ground.
FWEET! The referee blew his whistle, stopping play. He waved Coach Riley out onto the floor.
“I’m okay, Coach,” said Shaena as the coach crouched next to her.
“Let’s get you off the court so I can make sure,” Coach replied, motioning for Marisol to come over.
“You all right?” Marisol whispered as she helped Shaena stand up.
“I’m fine, really,” Shaena whispered back, even though her head was buzzing. “Everyone’s just making a big deal out of nothing.”
Marisol and the coach each took one of Shaena’s arms to steady her. The crowd clapped as they walked toward the bench.
Shaena flopped down onto the wooden seat while Coach signaled Jessie to take Shaena’s place. Marisol shot a worried look at Shaena before joining Jessie on the court.
Coach Riley kneeled in front of Shaena. “Follow my finger with just your eyes,” she instructed.
Shaena did as she was told, but it was hard to concentrate. She hardly noticed that her mom had come down from the bleachers and now knelt by Coach Riley.
Coach frowned and lowered her hand. “Shaena, I’m concerned that you might have a concussion.”
“What?” exclaimed Shaena, immediately wincing at the bolt of pain that shot through her head. “No, I can go back in.”
Coach shook her head. “No way. You need to be seen by a doctor,” she said. “I can’t let you play until you’ve been given a clean bill of health.”
“But, Coach,” said Shaena, nearly in tears. She wasn’t sure if the tears were from the throbbing in her head or the fact she was getting sidelined in the first game of the season. Maybe both. “There are only two more minutes left in the game. Please!”
“Shaena, Coach Riley is right,” said Shaena’s mom, taking hold of her hand. “No more arguing.”
“You can sit with the team for the rest of the game,” Coach continued, “but then you need to go to a doctor.”
“Fine,” mumbled Shaena. She couldn’t muster up the energy to argue. Her stomach was starting to feel a little upset too.
“I’ll call Dr. Lee,” Mom said. She stood up and pulled out her cell phone. “Hopefully she can see you tonight.”
As her mom left the gym to make the call, Shaena stayed on the bench and tired to focus on the game. But it was hard with the fuzzy pain pressing against the inside of her head.
They were down to the final minutes of the game. Beth had managed a quick layup after the injury time-out, so now they were only down by three. If they could get the ball to Marisol, who was a good three-point shooter, South would have a chance to tie.
Come on, Shaena thought desperately.
Back and forth the teams went, but the three-point difference in the score didn’t budge. With just five seconds left, Springfield took a shot.
CLANG!
The shot bounced off the rim. Jessie jumped for the rebound as Marisol sprinted for the three-point line on the other end.
Get it, Jessie! Shaena pleaded silently.
But Jessie didn’t come down with the ball; a Springfield player did. The opposing player held onto the ball while the last seconds disappeared.
BUZZZZ!
Shaena sighed unhappily. The game was over, and South was still behind by three.
* * *
The disappointed South players filed into the locker room. Still a little dazed, Shaena walked with Marisol. She’d never imagined the first game ending like this.
Coach Riley was the last to come into the room. “No sad faces!” she told the team. “Look, I get it. We lost a game we fought really hard to win. I don’t like to lose either. But we played so well! I’m excited to see what you ladies will do this season.”
With the coach’s after-game talk complete, the girls were dismissed. As Shaena stood in front of her locker and changed back into her street clothes, she heard Coach talking.
“Great job tonight, Jessie,” Coach said. “It’s tough to get thrown into the game when your teammate has been hurt, but you did just fine.”
“Thanks, Coach!” said Jessie.
Shaena let out an angry huff. I would’ve been able to grab that rebound. And I would’ve been able to get the ball to Marisol, she thought. We should be celebrating a win tonight.
She was stuffing her uniform into her bag when Marisol plopped down beside her on the bench.
“Hey. How do you feel?” Marisol asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” Shaena insisted. She was getting frustrated. Why wouldn’t anyone believe her?
“That was a hard hit you took,” said Marisol. “I saw that girl rubbing her elbow afterward.”
“Yeah, now Coach thinks I have a concussion,” Shaena admitted. “I can’t play until I get cleared by a doctor.”
“Whoa, really?” said Marisol. “I’m so sorry, Shaena. But maybe Coach is wrong. Maybe the doctor will tell you you’re totally fine.”
“Maybe,” said Shaena. She hung her aching head and reached for her sneakers.
Marisol let out a long breath. Then she put a hand on Shaena’s shoulder, stood up, and walked back to her own locker.
At least I’ll have an answer tonight, thought Shaena. She closed her eyes for a moment against the bright lights of the locker room. But what if it’s not the one I want to hear?