“Get the rebound!” shouted Howard.
At that moment, three players tumbled to the ground as they battled for the ball, Bill among them. Two of the players righted themselves and stood, but when they reached down to help Bill to his feet, he hunched his shoulders and remained on the ground, curling over his legs. Betty leapt to her feet to see down the court better.
“What’s going on?” Caroline asked, but no one answered. They all craned their heads toward the far end of the court, anxious to know what had happened to Bill.
AFTER THE FINAL buzzer, everyone streamed toward the exits, excited about the Northwestern win, but Betty found herself dragging her feet. Where was Bill? Since being carted off the court by a trainer, he hadn’t reappeared for the rest of the game. She tried not to worry. If there was one person who was invincible, it was Bill. He seemed powered by the rare engine that never seemed to need fuel. She allowed herself to be swept along with the fans, but couldn’t stop herself from searching the area by the locker room’s doors where a cluster of his teammates lingered. When she was almost at the door, Ned Mason appeared next to her. “Hey, Bill’s asking about you, and he’s about to head to the hospital. Come down to the trainer’s with me?”
She signaled to Caroline that she’d be back soon and hurried after Ned. “What’s happened to him?”
“I don’t think they really know yet.”
They arrived at the trainer’s office and passed a huddle of basketball players and the team’s coach and assistants. Sitting on an exam table with a wool blanket around his shoulders and his foot elevated on some pillows, Bill beckoned. His face looked pale and waxy, but his gaze brightened at the sight of her. The antiseptic smell of Mercurochrome in the room made Betty shudder, and she glanced away from his bare foot, already swelling and darkening with shades of violet and green.
“Looks like I may have broken it. Rotten luck, huh?” He closed his eyes for a moment as his features tightened in pain.
“The worst,” Betty agreed. “I’m so sorry.”
“At least we won.” He became distracted as a cadre of the trainers swarmed him, and Betty stepped back to let them examine him. After a few minutes, they peeled away, so she stepped closer again. He grimaced as he propped himself on his elbow. “Looks like I’m off to the hospital for the docs to check it out.”
Before she could say anything, two trainers bustled forward, and Bill groaned as they hoisted him onto a stretcher and headed for the door.
“Take care of yourself,” she called to him. “Have someone get word to me on how you’re doing.”
He twisted and his gaze locked with hers as he was carried off. Betty waved, but could only see the top of his blond head before he disappeared into the crowd outside the trainer’s room.
A WEEK LATER, Mrs. Riel, elegant in a riding costume, led Betty into the family’s house, a large stucco Tudor on a quiet street not far from Lake Michigan. Bill had once mentioned that his father owned a clothing manufacturing company, and judging from the thick carpet runner in the hallway and oil paintings in gilt frames, business was going well. They headed to a solarium where Bill sat ensconced on a chintz sofa. A pretty dark-haired girl resembling Clara Bow sat on a matching ottoman next to Bill, a stack of papers and textbooks perched on her lap. Betty eyed her and tried to smile.
“You have another visitor, Bill,” his mother announced.
“Thanks, Ma. Hey, Betty, do you know Millie Billram?”
Millie removed the stack of schoolwork from her lap and leapt to her feet, pushing out her hand. “Hi, aren’t you a Kappa Kappa Gamma?”
“I am.” Betty shook her hand. “Of course I recognize you. Are you a second-year?”
“Yes. I just came by to bring Bill some of the work he’s been missing from our accounting class. I guess I should be going.” She looked back and forth between Betty and Bill as if hoping for an invitation to stay longer.
“Millie, you’re a peach for bringing me all this,” Bill said. “Thanks. I should be back at school sometime in the next couple of weeks.”
“Swell. If you need someone to help you around campus, carry your books or anything, just let me know. I’d be happy to help.” She placed the books on a corner of the card table next to Bill and began sifting through the sections of the Chicago Tribune, also on the table, organizing pages and stacking them into a single pile.
“You don’t need to worry about the newspaper. I’m still going through it.”
“Millie dear, I’m heading upstairs to change, shall I walk you out?” Mrs. Riel asked, stepping forward, and Betty understood where Bill’s smooth congeniality came from.
Millie allowed Mrs. Riel to guide her out, leaving Bill and Betty alone. His foot, covered in a thick white plaster cast, sat high on a mountain of pillows. A plate with a turkey sandwich and a glass of iced tea rested on the card table beside the newspaper and the schoolwork that Millie had delivered.
“It looks like you’ve got plenty of company coming through.”
“Yeah, I wish the fellas would stop by, but it’s you I’m most happy to see.”
Betty gave him a skeptical look. “Really? Even with all of these pretty girls visiting?”
Bill
