Page 64 of False Start
“I know that losing sucks, and today definitely wasn’t our best performance.” Nods and hums of agreement fill the room. “We weren’t in sync, we were making sloppy passes and rookie mistakes. Those games happen, but it’s how we bounce back that truly matters.” He looks around the room, meeting each player's gaze.
“There’s still two more games, so do whatever you need to do, sit in your feels, punch a pillow, follow a routine, butafter tonight, center your focus and put the work in. I know every person in this room can bounce back, so let's focus on the next game. If you need anything or wanna talk something out, I’m always here for you.”
Excited murmurs come from the group, appreciating Connor’s words and his support as not only a Captain, but as our friend.
“Connor is right,” Coach walks in, arms folded across his chest, expression soft with a small smile, “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, finish up whatever you’re doing in here and let's load the bus in ten minutes. Get a good night’s rest and focus on being prepared for the next game.”
“Yes, Coach!” We all shout in unison.
I finish piling all of my gear in my duffle and pulling on my hoodie when I spot the key card for Kailyn’s room on the top shelf of my stall. I pull it out, tucking it into my pocket so that I don’t forget it here.
There’s only one place I want to be tonight, especially after a long and brutal game.
Following the rest of the guys out, I file onto the bus, making my way to my usual seat near the front. I’ve just settled into my seat, eyes closed from exhaustion when I feel Connor slide his duffle above us in the storage bin and plop down in the seat next to me, sighing in relief.
We don’t technically have assigned seats, but most of the team is superstitious about where they sit, claiming that it’s part of their routine and what helps them perform better. I’m not one to believe in all that nonsense, but I know plenty of guys who do. They swear that by sitting in the same seat on the bus or wrapping their tape on their sticks the same way each game, or even the order in which they put their gear on is important to the outcome of theirgame. If they believe in those superstitions, that’s on them and I’m definitely not one to judge.
“What a day man,” Connor says, exhaustion seeping out from his tone.
I open my eyes, turning my head to look at him.
“Tell me about it. I swear, half the time I tried to pass the puck, there was no one there. It’s like we were back in our rookie days with how out of sync we were.”
“Yeah, shit happens, but hopefully after tonight, we’ll all be better off for it and go on to win the next one.” He stretches his neck side to side, before he looks at me. “I know Coach wants us to head to bed, but I heard some of the guys might go down to the hotel bar and chill for a few. You gonna join them?”
“Nah, I have other plans tonight.”
“Ah, you mean plans with your girl,” he teases, but he must notice that I’m not laughing along because his smile drops and his expression turns concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure. Emilia and Hannah told me that Coach sent her back to the hotel during the first period. She wasn’t feeling good and I’m gonna drop by and make sure she’s okay.” I give him the basic information, not wanting to explain the entire thing when I’m not sure if she would want me, too.
“Shit, I hope she’s okay. If you want, the hotel has a small gift shop and pharmacy. Maybe you could pick a couple things up that might help her, some meds or snacks.”
His suggestion sparks an idea in me, and I immediately compile a list of some things that I can grab to bring to her room. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken care of her during her period, but I still remember everything that used to help, and hopefully it still does.
“Thanks, man. That sounds like a good idea.” I reach over and pat his arm.
“No problem. Listen, taking care of Tasha is one of my favorite things to do. That, and spoiling her whenever I get the chance,” he winks, and I laugh along with him.
“I’ll have to keep that in the back of my mind.”
I rest my head back on the headrest, closing my eyes as the bus finally pulls out into traffic. I let my thoughts drift off, waiting to finally reach the hotel where I can grab what I need and make my way to Kailyn, ready to take care of her.
Chapter 25
Kailyn
Throwing up is one of the worst feelings ever.
Groaning at the headache that’s pounding inside of my head, I flush the toilet and reach for the water bottle next to me, taking a sip to wash out my mouth. After the third time of getting out of my bed to puke, I decided to just set up camp on the floor, thus a pillow and comforter ended up on the floor with me.
I’ve lived with PMOS my entire life, and I’ve worked with my OBGYN to help manage my symptoms, but it’s still a struggle most days to live a normal life. When I do get my period, I have cramps for days that are sometimes so debilitating that I can’t even get out of bed. It’s a struggle to function properly, walking or moving even the slightest hurts sometimes. The way it’s played into my body insecurities hasn’t helped either. I constantly feel bloated, like I can’t control my weight. I’ve spent a lot of long nights crying my eyes out while I stared in the mirror, which I realize isn’t the healthiest thing to do.
But when you’re already at such a low point, why not keep going until you hit rock bottom.
People, mainly men, always told me that I was being dramatic and that I should get over it. That I needed to suck it up and deal with the pain. They judged me and made me feel like my pain and my experience weren’t real. They never understood what it was like to feel this way, and I never had the energy to explain it to them when I knew they would just dismiss me.
I remember one night, during my first year of med school, we were interning with the football team at a game, and I was in so much pain I ended up passing out on the sidelines.
