Page 13 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
“And that’s it for the day,” he says when I’m close to puking.
I let my head hang over the bench for a second, breathing hard, my knee screaming. When I finally sit up to towel off the sweat, he smacks me between my shoulder blades.
“Nice job, Reid. You’re gaining your strength and flexibility back. You keep this up, I think you can start jogging in a week or two.”
I whip to face him. “Really?”
He grins as he jots down a few notes. “Really.”
It’s the first time since tripping and tearing my MCL on that course last month that I feel even an iota of hope. I was so sure I was going to dominate that race. Instead, it ruined the start of my season.
For weeks I’ve been forced to watch everyone else on the team compete and improve their stats while I’ve done nothing but go to doctor’s appointments, bracing for more bad news. At least I didn’t need surgery and I’ve managed to keep my dad in the dark about how bad it is. He knows I fell, that I’m rehabbing, but I don’t need him worrying about my future.
Or my scholarship.
Now that I’mfinallyoff the crutches, I have to push myself harder than my trainers are willing to or else I’ll never catch up.
“Are you going to tell Coach Carr that?” I ask.
Jason keeps scribbling, his eyebrow quirking up in amusement. “I know you’re eager to get back out there, but you have to take injuries like this one step at a time.”
I force myself to ask the question. “But I will get back out there, right? I’ll run like I did?”
“We both know that bullshitting is not what we do here,” he says, gesturing between us. “You got a long way to go.”
“I can’t lose any more time, Jason. Regionals are next month.”
His eyes are hard when they look up from his tablet. “You’re not losing time, you’rehealing. You risk making things a helluva lot worse if you push through something like this, Rousseau. I can’t guarantee you’ll be ready for regionals just yet.”
I grind my teeth. He doesn’t get it. Sitting out isn’t an option when everyone expects you to be great.Needsyou to be great.
Jason hands me a compression wrap. “Take this, ice it tonight. Keep wearing the brace and do an Epsom salt soak if you have any soreness.”
A soak. I immediately think of the hot springs back home. My favorite place on the entire planet. Sometimes I can get through the whole day without thinking about Woodhurst. Other days, I crave everything about it down to the pine cones. But those thoughts inevitably lead me to Clara. And I try to avoid ever thinking about Clara.
I collect my water bottle and phone, still buzzing every few seconds.
“Someone’s got a girlfriend,” Jason taunts.
I shoot him a glare, and he chuckles. But as soon as I finally check my phone, the screen goes black. Dead. Of course.
“Reid, man, don’t stress. Injuries have a way of teaching us something we need to learn. And someday, this is all going to be a blip.”
It’s hard to imagine anything that’s happened in the past few months will feel like a “blip,” but I want to believe him.
“Thanks,” I say.
It’s dark and drizzling as I walk back to my dorm.Injuries have a way of teaching us something we need to learn.
If that’s true, I wonder what that could mean for me.
Sweat is tacky against my skin by the time I get to my room—this strange, beige space that even after two months still doesn’t feel like mine. I plug my phone in so it can charge while I shower.
I gather my stuff and make my way down the hall, past a few open doors leading to groups laughing, watching movies, sneaking booze. Connor’s door is open, too, and when we make eye contact, my teammate yells at me to join them. But I can tell it’s half-hearted. Everyone gets quiet when I’m around now. I shake my head and hold up my shower caddy as my answer.
He calls out for me anyway. “You bringing that blond around again any time soon?”
A few of the guys holler and elbow one another. I just roll my eyes and keep walking. I’m never bringing Delaney around these cretins again. Or at all. The familiar guilt I’ve been carrying since that night weighs heavier at the reminder.
