On every tennis court there is an area located between the baseline and the service line. Being towards the back of the court, most shots there are either too high and likely go out or low which forces players receiving them off balance. In the match between my Heartport High School Sirens Girls’ Tennis Team and our bitter rivals the Hillfort Horses, Our star player, Savannah Applewhite, ran up to receive a low shot in no man’s land. Before she could regain her balance, the ball was fired back right at her wrist. The crowd could all hear the sickening crack of her carpus bones shattering. The match was stopped and awarded to Heartport, but it was a Pyrrhic victory. 

Savannah was stretchered out of the school and into the ambulance. I was in the back with her. It was my duty as team captain to stay with my team. I tried to keep her calm as the athletic adrenaline subsided and the pain began to intensify. When we arrived at the hospital one of the EMTs told me, “Ms. Ramirez, please go to the waiting room and we’ll call you when we have updates.” I heeded.

When I sat down and checked my phone I was immediately met with a dozen notifications from the team's group chat. 

Jaqueline: Maria, how is Savannah doing?

Kairi: Give her some time Jackie, she’s probably still in the ambulance.

Jaqueline: Sorry 😞. It’s my fault she’s in there, I shoulda volleyed that shot. 

Nia: No one blames you Jackie. That ball was going way too fast. Who do those bitches think they are, hitting Savannah like that?

Scarlet: Same old Hillfort 👏👏, always cheating 👏👏.

Emily: SERIOUSLY, like we oughta get back at them!

Nia: NO! We are better than them. Lie down with horses, wake up in manure. 

Emily: Fair, fair. 

Suzanne: Hey Kairi, do you think she’s at the hospital yet?

Kairi: Let me check.

Kairi: I think she should be there now. 

Maria: Yeah, we just got here. They’re taking her to the ER rn.

Suzanne: oh jeez…

Jaqueline: How is she?

Maria: They think she broke her wrist pretty badly. 

Maria: Has anyone told her folks what happened?

Kairi: I shot them a text a few minutes ago. They’re on their way right now.

Maria: Good, I’ll let y’all know as soon as she gets out.

I put my phone down and looked around. The clock on the wall showed 9:30. The only magazine not four years out of date was Golf Digest, something I had less than zero interest in reading. I don’t feel the need to read about a bunch of rich people flaunting their wealth, if I wanted to see that I’d just look up whatever Elon Musk was up to this week. With a sigh, I picked my phone back up and started browsing social media, waiting to hear anything from the doctors. 

A few minutes later I was roused by the sound of Savannah’s parents running up to the receptionist’s desk, asking where their daughter was. 

“She’s still in surgery.” the receptionist told them. “She came in with her friend over there, you can wait with her.” The receptionist pointed to where I was sitting. 

“What happened to Savannah?” her mother questioned breathlessly. “How bad was it?”

“Pretty bad, we think. Ask anyone who was there, the sound was…” I didn’t have the words to accurately describe the sound without breaking her mom’s heart. She understood.

“I knew we should’ve taken the day off of work for this game!” Savanna’s father burst out. “Hillfort always pulls crap like this! That they keep getting away with this is bullsh-“

“Honey!” his wife grasped his arm in an attempt to calm him down and make him watch his tongue.

“No, he’s right.” I said bitterly. “They’ve injured like six players on five different teams, and that’s just this season.” I shook my head in rage. I knew nothing would be done about those snotty rich kids cheating, their parents would just make sizable donations to the district to make sure nothing was done. Yet another reason to hate money in sports.

“At least you took them out for the season.” Savanna’s father said, sitting down next to me. “That’ll stop them from hurting anyone else for a while.” 

A few minutes later we were told Savannah had gotten out of surgery. We all went to see her and hear what the doctor had to say. She walked out with a teal cast on her right arm.

“It’ll probably be about five months until that cast comes off, then another couple months of physical therapy to get your wrist back to full strength.” She told Savannah. “I’m sorry, but you’ll not be able to play tennis for the rest of this season.”

Savannah nodded solemnly, she looked up at me after several moments of staring at the floor. “Find a replacement for me, don’t let Hillfort take us out of the running.” She gave me a determined look, as if she was silently saying “We’ll show Hillfort by going all the way to state.” 

I nodded, I would make sure we kept going, for her.