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Dad had queried theneed for me to do a gym workout on match day. Once again, he was concerned I might be overdoing things. I reassured him I definitely wasn’t, that I had planned a core, stability ball and flexibility session. None of it was overly strenuous. And the program had been approved by Coach Clay. Plus, I excelled best with having a routine. I woke up at the same time every morning, like clockwork. I needed structure and a purpose.
Though I was getting used to being disrupted by the football boys. Busy doing my workout in what was called the Core Corner, Tenn and Cullen seemed to need my confirmation that they were good at tennis, bragging that they could hit a ball with power.
“Tay couldn’t return my serve,” Cullen said to a bunch of boys.
“That’s because it hit the baseline!” I said with a shake of my head.
“What about my forehand?” Tenn was doing shadow swings. “Pretty good, huh? You were impressed, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I deadpanned. “Brilliant. You should ask Mr. Dyer about joining the tennis team.”
“Maybe I will,” Tenn said, nudging me in the ribs.
I shoved him back, making him stumble against the stability ball.
“Careful!” Coach Mercer shouted, making us all turn around. He wasn’t on his own. Beside him was Phoenix, holding on to his walker. “What are you boys doing here?” Coach growled. “Shouldn’t you be working your legs?”
The boys scrambled away with a “Yes, sir,” and “Right away, sir,” staring at Phoenix as they passed.
“We’re lunging, sir,” Tenn said as he and Cullen spontaneously fell into synchronized lunges, smirking as they did.
Coach shook his head with a weary sigh. “You wanna start this Friday, Jackson?”
“Yessir! You need me to, sir!”
“Do you need a hand with anything?” Cullen was looking at Phoenix.
“I should be okay,” Phoenix said. A bunch of resistance bands were draped over his walking frame.
“Phoenix has some physical therapy to do. The best thing you can do is keep out of his way and let him do it,” Coach Mercer sounded gruff, but I’d figured that he was gentle at heart. With Tenn and Cullen gone, he shook his head again and introduced me to Phoenix. Neither of us said that we shared a photography class.
I bent down and scooped up my mat, clearing the way for Phoenix to get through, while Coach reiterated that Phoenix should call him if he needed help.
“I’ll be fine,” Phoenix assured him, positioning his walker by the wall and sitting on it. I hadn’t noticed it had a seat on it yesterday, though maybe this was a different one. Selecting a band, he adjusted it under his foot.
Not wanting to lie on the floor while he was doing his exercises, I grabbed a stability ball and sat on it. I waited a minute before saying it out loud, because ignoring the situation would be awkward. “Sorry to hear about your accident,” I said, “and let me know if I can help with anything.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’m looking forward to watching you play tennis.”
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “This afternoon?”
“If I make it through the day,” he said with a raspy laugh. He pulled his left knee up, replaced it to the floor and repeated it again and again.
Realizing that he was working out and I was sitting there watching, I lowered myself on the bouncy ball to do some sit ups.
“You work out in the mornings?”
“Yep.”
“With the football team?”
I laughed. “Not with them. I do my own program.”
“Coach Mercer is getting soft in his old age,” Phoenix said. He shifted the band to his right foot. “I hear Clay is coaching you.”
“Uh huh.”
“How’s it going?”
