Rory
I came back to full consciousness mid-argument, which is not a sentence I ever expected to write about my own medical emergency, but there it was — my own voice, thick and slurred, insisting on something with more force than my current physical state had any business producing.
"—not the team trainer, I need—" My words dragged, the world still swimming at the edges, but some stubborn, panicked part of my brain had apparently kept fighting for control even while the rest of me was busy being unconscious. "Private arrangement. Coach knows. Call the number on file, not—"
"You need actual medical attention, not a phone call," Coach Reyes's voice, tight with worry, cut across whatever the trainer had been about to say. "Monroe, you were out for almost two minutes."
"I know my own file.
