“So, what about Griffin? When will we get our next dose of friend content? We’re dying out here.” Ken grins.
“If I had my way, he’d be my plus-one tonight, but he needs to recover. As soon as we get some content-worthy hang time, I promise you all will be the first to know.”
Aria steps back, raising a hand to Ken in farewell, and heads down the carpet. She stops in the middle, where a staffmember wearing all black and a headset instructs her to pose. A sea of flashing lights greets her, along with calls for “This way, Aria! This way!”
She plays up the poses, channeling her inner powerhouse, but inside she’s a mess of jumbled feelings.
Aria can’t stop thinking about Griffin.
At dinner she makes polite conversation with the others at her table, and when she’s announced as an award winner, she takes the stage and accepts delightedly. Aria leans over the podium and makes a brief but heartfelt speech, thanking her team and fans.
Still, her mind floats back to Griffin.
Is this just the result of Ken posing good questions? Or is this something real?
Aria gets home that night, and she goes right to bed.
In her dreams, he’s there again. Griffin.
Chapter 43
Griffin
Griffin has been at the rehab facility for three days, and it’s wearing on him. When it comes to the practical elements—the support, the staff, the cleanliness, even the food—everything has been top notch, but he’s looking forward to getting home today. He wouldn’t have been able to attend the game in person, but watching it on television from his hospital-style bed felt worse than the hit that blew out his knee. It couldn’t be made clearer how far off the field he’s fallen. So far that he can’t even make it to the bench.
Griffin’s knee is painful, and now the incisions from surgery throb as soon as the medication wears off. The surgeon was happy with how the procedure went, but only once he’s healed and rehabbed will Griffin know how well his knee functions. Perhaps worse is the fact that Griffin has done little asidefrom use the restroom, attempt a partial shower, and lie in this dang bed. Physical therapy has been painful, but at least it feels like actuallydoing something. His mind is growing irritable and restless.
He clicks around the various sports networks on the television for an hour or so until the tech comes in with a wheelchair.
“I’m here to bust you out!” The tech is bubbly and cheery, and Griffin can’t help but smile back.
“Then you’re just the person I want to see.”
The tech wheels the chair bedside and instructs Griffin on the best way to slide into it. “Your car service is already waiting outside.”
Griffin slides onto the wheelchair, feeling a pinch of optimism at the promise of getting home. “Perfect.”
“Here”—the tech grabs a tote branded with the facility’s name and wiggles it before returning it to the back of the wheelchair—“is all of your paperwork. Copies have been sent to the team doc and staff as requested, so this is for your personal records.”
“And the rest of my personal items?”
A second staff person appears. “I’m here to pack them up.”
Griffin wouldn’t typically be comfortable with so many people doing so much for him. He wasn’t exactly raised as someone who expected to be doted on, but in this scenario he has no choice but to rely on them. “I appreciate it all.”
“We’re happy to assist,” the tech says. “I’m a mega Wardens fan, so it only feels like helping the cause.”
The wheelchair glides smoothly down the tiled floor, andthe tech pops open a side door that opens onto a ramp. Griffin shields his eyes as he adjusts to the bright afternoon sun, but he still catches sight of a familiar vehicle.
The driver’s side door pops open, and Elliott climbs out.
“How are you here?” Griffin asks, his face creased into a deep smile at the sight of his friend.
“I got an early ride back from the game. I figured we could recap the game on the drive back.”
“That would be incredible, man. I’ve been going crazy sitting there all alone.”
The tech helps Griffin into the car, and a staff person brings out the rest of his items and loads them in the trunk. Once they’re alone in the car, Griffin pulls in a deep breath as Elliott drives away.
