Shea

I was not expecting this.

Laying in the snow with an unconscious Brenna Harrison while on our date.

Because of the rock protruding from the snow, there's blood dripping down her temple. A deep gash is above her eyebrow. It'll need stitches.

My arm is pinned beneath her body. Although I'm afraid to move her, I need to move my arm in order to grab my phone. Good thing it's in the outside pocket of her backpack and is accessible. Otherwise, I'd be in some serious shit.

Careful to not move Brenna too much, I slide my arm out from beneath her. Then I remove my snowshoes. They'll get in my way. Next, I grab my cell phone.

The panic in my chest heightens when I realize I have two options.

911 or the Central Okanagan Search and Rescue.

I'm unsure of which service I call. 911 or COSAR. We're halfway up a hill in a regional park, but we're near the access road.

911 would be the better option. However, they're not equipped to trek up the hill in deep snow.

I decide on COSAR.

"Fuck," I mutter. My fingers are numb from the cold, and I make several spelling mistakes as I type COSAR into search.

As soon as the number pops up, I tap it and hit 'call.'

Pressing the phone to my ear, I use my free hand to check Brenna's pulse. It's steady and strong, but she's still unconscious. Blood is still leaking from her gash.

COSAR answers on the second ring. "This is the Central Okanagan Search and Rescue. How may we be of service to you?"

I clear my throat, trying to centre myself.

It doesn't work.

"I didn't know who to call," I blurt. "My girlfriend passed out. She hit her head on a rock and there's a gash above her eyebrow. It didn't seem practical to call 911 since we're on a hiking trail near Rose Valley Regional Park. I just... fuck... I don't know what to do."

"Sir," the man says. "You did the right thing calling us. We are equipped with similar technology to the paramedics, and the same medical training. Is your girlfriend breathing?"

"Yes," I reply. My fingers are still pressed against Brenna's neck. Her skin is pale and her lips have a bluish tinge. Snowflakes are caught in her hair, which is splayed around her. She looks like Snow White after she bit into the poisonous apple. "She's breathing, but she's pale. Really pale."

On the other end, I hear papers shuffling. "We're dispatching a crew to your location right away."

"How can you do that?" I haven't told them where I am. I mentioned Rose Valley Regional Park, but not which access route we're on.

"GPS system, sir."

Right. Duh. What the fuck is wrong with me? Oh, that's right. My girlfriend is unconscious.

"How long will you be?" I ask. Removing my fingers from Brenna's throat, I run a hand through my hair, shaking away the droplets of melted snow. My previously injured shoulder is aching. I may have strained it when we fell. As if it matters. Playing hockey again isn't as important as Brenna's life. Aside from the gash, I'm unsure of the extent. Of why she fainted or how hard she hit her head.

I'm worried about her.

Plus, it's really fucking cold.

I need to call her mom, and maybe Tucker.

Fuck, my mind is running at a million kilometres an hour.

"Ten to fifteen minutes. In the meantime, monitor your girlfriend and try to keep her warm without moving her."

Keep her warm? She's laying in the fucking snow!

Despite my anxiety, I tell them I'll manage.

After hanging up, I slip my phone into my pocket and stare at Brenna. Panic lodges itself in my throat. Blue tinges her lips. Her cheeks are pale. Although she's dressed in layers, including a scarf and touque, I shrug my jacket off and lay it over her like a blanket. Remnants of body heat will help her.

Next, I grab the duffle bag. Whenever I go hiking, I always bring a first-aid kit. It's full of bandages, antiseptic wipes, tweezers, a breakable icepack, and even a guidebook. Before KJ fell into a pit of jumping cacti, he would call me crazy for bringing one. He was thankful for the tweezers and the numbing cream.

Before unzipping the duffle bag, I remove my gloves. Cold air attacks my hands, making me cringe. Ironic how I love hockey but hate the cold weather, eh?

From the first-aid kid, I remove a pack of antiseptic wipes and Polysporin. I fumble with the pack, struggling to open it because of my shaky hands. A curse slips from my lips. As soon as Brenna wakes up and I learn she's okay, she's getting a piece of my mind. Among other things. Scolding will probably be after the kissing.

Once the packaging is gone, I wipe away the blood sliding down Brenna's face. Then I clean the cut. The bleeding has subsided. With a better view, now I can see the depth of her gash. She'll need stitches and there's slight bruising around it. I hope she doesn't have a concussing. Making sure Brenna avoids overexerting herself will be impossible if that's the case. She'll fight through injuries, which isn't smart.

After cleaning the gash, I apply a thin layer of Polysporin. The medical ointment glistens under the dreary natural lighting.

Just for safe measure, I check her pulse again. She's okay.

Quickly, I gather the garbage and shove it back in my duffle bag. Then I grab my phone again. Talking to Brenna's mom scares me. Keeping Bren safe was my primary goal, and I failed. I'd rather Tucker tells Ava than me.

He answers on the third ring.

"Tucker," I choke. "You need to come pick me up. Something's happened to Brenna. Call her mom, too."

"Shea?" Hunter asks. "What the hell? Where are you?"

He notices the panic in my tone. I relay him the details.

"Okay. I'm on my way. Give me five minutes. I'll call Ava while I'm driving."

I frown. "You can't drive while using your phone."

Hunter snorts. "Dude. Get your head out of your ass. Bren'll be okay. I'll use hands-free while driving."

"Right. Fuck. Sorry."

He snorts again. "An apology from Shea Smith. That's a new one."

A smile splits my face, which eases some of the tension. "Fuck off, Tucker."

"Only if you do first. I'll see you in five, man. Keep an eye out for COSAR and take care of Brenna."

As soon as I hang up, I hear tires grating against the sanded road. At the bottom of the hill, I see an emergency vehicle pull up. It shifts into park, then people are pouring out of it. Two head up in our direction while the others open the back and remove a stretcher.

I stand, waving my hand at the people down below. One waves back to signify they've seen me. I breathe a sigh of relief. Soon, Brenna will be at KGH. We'll know the damage.

Everything will be okay.