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“You’d like me to stare,” I grumble with a wry grin. I move to sit in the chair next to the window, displacing a flock of stuffed birds.
“They said surgery went well,” he says, keeping his voice light.
Freddy and I have known each other a long time, ever since our first year playing for Washington State. He wouldn’t lie. But I can see through his bullshit. I also know when not to call him on it.
“That’s good.”
“As far as compound fractures go, they said it was about as clean a break as I could hope for.”
“Isn’t that kind of like saying if you’re gonna step in a pile of shit, at least it was a massive pile of shit?”
“I’m thankful I only broke one leg in half.” A wry grin cracks his lips.
“I’m thankful you only broke one leg in half,” I repeat and we both laugh. It’s this ridiculous tradition we’ve had, finding something to be thankful for in the face of shit situations. After we’ve lost a tough game, or been trashed in the media, or whatever. Finding a silver lining feels good.
“Something like that,” he says with a chuckle. He runs his fingers through his hair as if to push it out of his eyes. But it’s not long enough and it doesn’t hide the disappointment.
“Tell me about post-game, brah.”
“What about it?” I ask, frowning.
“What’d you do? Did you end up finding that girl from Kell’s again?”
I’d forgotten the shit we’d been talking about before the game. Well, he and Pasha had talked. I’d listened. I’m always too hyped up to talk before a game. But after, I needed to find some way to work out all that pent-up aggression. If I had a type, it would be someone with dark hair and long legs who gave as good as she received. Someone who would get me out of my head for an hour or so. It’s been getting harder to stay out of my head lately.
“What was her name again?” Freddy’s grinning now as if he wasn’t hopped up on drugs and tied to a hospital bed.
“Katie,” I lie. Fuck if I remember her name. Was it Katie? Keely? There are too many K names to keep track. And it’s not like I actually had sex with her. We made out in the bar, but it’s been a long time since I actually closed the deal with someone.
I cross my arms and lean back in the chair. If not for the scent of bleach and death, it’d almost be like any other night after a game.
“So, did you find her then?”
“Nah, man. I came here,” I say, scrubbing my hand down my face.
It’s the wrong thing to say. Freddy’s smile falls and he goes quiet. I clear my throat and change the subject.
“So, you let it heal. Then PT?”
“Something like that,” he repeats. It’s not the worst timing. Our season hasn’t been bad, but it’s not post-season worthy. We’re both in our second year with the Ptarmigans with a new coach. Our motto this year isWait for it…because we know we’re putting in the work for next season and beyond.
“How long?” I ask, leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms over my chest.
“They’re being cagey. Want to see how my leg heals over the next few days. They’ve mentioned eight weeks. Then however much PT after that. I think I’ll be ready for pre-season.”
I nod and force what I hope is an encouraging smile.
“That would be great, man.”
“What would be great?” A pretty, older nurse with brown skin and conspiratorial eyes arrives with a cart of wires and tubes.
“I was just talking about how great it would be to get a little sugar from my favorite nurse,” Freddy says. Even hopped up on whatever drugs they have him on, he’s still a shameless flirt.
Violet smirks down at him as she pulls out a stethoscope.
“Boy, you wouldn’t know what to do with me if I gave you so much as a teaspoon.” Freddy laughs and she presses the stethoscope under his hospital gown. He jolts at the cold metal disk and Violet shoots me an evil smile. It’s clear he’s in good hands.
Violet obviously needs to check on Freddy and do some vitals, so I step outside. Just then, as if I knew she’d be there, Faye is walking toward me. She’s wearing a soft green flannel shirt over black leggings and her favorite leopard-print flats. Her pink cashmere beanie is on her head, the same one she wore the night we met over a year ago when she locked her keys in her car outside Zach’s bar. Her full, pink lips curve into a sympathetic smile. Instantly, I feel the weight on my shoulders lighten.
