Change of Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

sitting on the edge of her seat. I jumped up every time everyone else did, cheering Sean on and booing the other team.
    Then it happened.
    One of the players on the opposing team slammed into Sean. Sean shoved him. The other player pushed back and then dropped a glove and slammed his fist into Sean. Sean struck back. The other player grabbed at Sean’s helmet. Then, I wasn’t sure, maybe the other player pushed Sean or maybe Sean lost his balance. He flew backward toward the ice. I watched in horror as his unprotected head hit the ice.
    Morgan leapt to her feet.
    Every player on Sean’s team sped over to where Sean was lying motionless.
    Colin and Kevin Sloane rushed onto the ice.
    Morgan pressed her hands against the Plexiglas that protected the spectators from wild pucks. Colin and Kevin knelt down next to Sean.
    â€œHe’s not moving,” Morgan said. Her voice was high and panicky.
    â€œHow did that happen? Why did his helmet come off like that?” I said.
    â€œI don’t know. It’s not supposed to,” Morgan said. “Robyn, he isn’t moving.”
    Paramedics arrived. A hush fell over the arena.
    One of the referees picked up the helmet and looked at it. Kevin stood up and took the helmet from the ref. Then he peered around the arena as if he were looking for someone.
    I glanced at Morgan. She had tears in her eyes.
    The paramedics were loading Sean onto a gurney. They wheeled him off the ice. For a moment it was completely silent in the arena, as if all the spectators were holding their breath. My eyes went to Jon Czerny in the penalty box. He hadn’t moved. He just sat there, leaning forward, chewing gum with his mouth half open, as if he’d found the whole drama mildly amusing.
    â€œI’m going to go and see how Sean is,” Morgan said. She hurried away.
    The referees cleared the ice. Someone made an announcement over the PA system: Sean Sloane, number 7, would not return to the ice tonight.
    When the game resumed, the other team quickly scored another goal, which tied the game. Tension mounted in the arena. The other team kept attacking the net. Then Jon Czerny came out of the penalty box and everything changed again. He was all over the ice. He always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. His teammates kept passing to him the way they had passed to Sean. With ten seconds left to play, Jon scored the winning goal. The roar that went up was deafening. Jon pumped his arms as he glided around the rink.
    As soon as the game was over, I went to look for Morgan. There was a knot of people outside the room adjacent to the team locker room. Most of them were reporters, including Tamara Sanders and her cameraman. The preppy-looking guy was there, too. They were all waiting to see how Sean was and, if possible, to get a comment from him. If Sean was in that room, I was pretty sure that Morgan would be there, too. So I waited with everyone else.
    A few minutes later, the door opened and the reporters surged forward. A couple of cameras swung around, flooding the corridor with light. Sean emerged from the room with his coach on one side and Morgan on the other. His two brothers stood behind him.
    Sean’s face was pale. From where I’d been sitting, it looked like his head had hit the ice pretty hard. But he managed a shaky smile and told the reporters, “I’m fine. Really.”
    â€œWhat happened to your helmet, Sean?” someone called out.
    â€œWe’ll be looking into that,” Sean’s coach said. “It’s possible it was an equipment malfunction. But first we’re going to get Sean to the hospital and have him checked over. I’ll be issuing a statement about his condition first thing in the morning.”
    A dozen more questions were shouted out, but the coach held up his hands to signal that they would not be answered. He guided Sean through the crowd. Sean’s brothers and the two paramedics followed