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“I don’t see why you’re bitching. I’m cleared to play.”
And if I want to get back into shape and keep up with the rest of my teammates—you know, the ones that have been playing and practicing for the last nine months while I was sitting on the bench twiddling my thumbs—I have to put in the work.
“And where exactly are your teammates?” Spencer asks, raising his eyebrows at me.
“They left after we were done with the conditioning, not that it’s any of your business.” Sliding my legs to the side, I sit upright but don’t even try to get up because my legs feel like jelly. Grabbing the water bottle from the floor, I down it in one breath. “What are you doing here?”
“We were just finishing with our workout when I spotted you. I thought you were long gone. You know, because the football team usually uses the gym for conditioning from five to seven, and now it’s almost eight-thirty.”
“Well, I’m here,” I grunt, pushing to my feet. My knee protests the movement, a jab of pain spreading through the joint and into my muscles, but I grit my teeth and suck it up as I get to my full height.
Son-of-a-bitch.
Maybe Spencer was right, and I actually overdid it, but it was hard not to. If I don’t get back to my pre-injury shape, even the doctor’s clearance to play won’t help me keep my spot on the team. “Where are your hockey buddies?”
Taking a moment to brace myself, I throw my towel over my shoulder and start for the locker room, Spencer hot on my heels.
“Gone. They wanted to get back home and set everything up for the party. I was actually planning to text you to see if you wanna come with me when I saw that your grumpy ass was still here.”
“My only goal this year is to help my team win the championship.” I push the locker room door open. “Where else would I be?”
“You won’t win the championship if you push yourself too hard and end up reinjuring yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I grit just as another jab of pain goes through my leg. Or at least I would be after I get some rest. But who has time for that?
Doing my best to hide the pain, I slowly make my way to my locker, sitting down on the bench in front of it.
“You’re a sweaty mess.”
“That’s because I’ve been exercising for the better part of the last three hours.”
“And you’re walking funny.”
I glare at him over my shoulder. “I repeat, I’ve been working out for the last three hours. Some of us don’t have extra padding to save our asses from bruising when somebody tackles us.”
“Whatever, dude, I’m off to take a shower.”
I watch as he grabs his stuff and goes into the bathroom. Thankfully, the locker room is blissfully quiet. In a few weeks, once different sports seasons kick off, that won’t be the case.
Running my hand over my face, I let out a long sigh. I enter my locker combination and pull the door open, grabbing my bag from the inside. I shove my hand into the bag, tapping around the bottom until my fingers wrap around the plastic bottle. Glancing over my shoulder to ensure Spencer’s still in the bathroom, I slide the lid open and turn it upside down.
Two lone tablets fall into my palm. I watch them for a moment, feeling my heart speed up as I weigh my options. My tongue darts out, sliding over my lower lip. The sound of footsteps nearing snaps me into action. Not giving myself a chance to overthink it, I tilt my head back and throw them into my mouth, swallowing them both in one go.
The pain in my knee wasn’t as intense as it was when I first injured it, but the moment I got back to conditioning, the agonizing pain came back. Some days I can deal with it; others, it’s just too much.
And now there aren’t any left.
I stare at the empty bottle, willing it to fill once again, but of course, it doesn’t happen. I shouldn’t even be taking these any longer. If you ask my doctors, they’d tell you I don’t.
“So?” Spencer asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I quickly close the bottle and throw it back into the duffle before turning toward my friend. I was so lost in my own head; I didn’t even hear the shower stop.
“So what?”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “So, are you coming to the party?”
* * *
