“You sure?” Coach asks.
“Yep,” I answer and turn my attention back to the game as I reach for my bottle of water. There’s still a dull ache. A quiet throbbing in the back of my mind. I think I need to get up again. Sitting isn’t making me feel better. It’s making mefeelit too much.
I need to stretch. So I drop my bottle back in the hole and get to my feet, leaning on the wall to watch the game. It’s another minute before I climb over the side and back onto the ice.
Yep, I can still feel it, but it’s fine. It’s feeling a little better now that I’m moving again. I turn my attention to the puck, put my head down, and focus on the game.
We lose by two.I’m thankful the game is over. I think I need hot water over my back to calm the ache in it. Keno skates up beside me, his hand coming around to land on my back. Not that I feel it through all the padding. I just know that’s where his hand is.
“You okay?” he asks, almost in the same tone as Assistant Coach Dayton.
I grin. “Yeah. Just need the hot water.”
“Maybe we’ll go to the hot tub when we get back,” Keno says.
I hum, nodding, as we make our way down the chute and into the locker room. Now that the game is over and my adrenalineis dissipating from my blood, I feel the pain a little more. It feels like I might have tweaked a muscle. Pulled it a little.
It takes me a bit to struggle out of my gear and hobble my way to the shower, where I stand under the hot water for a very long time. I shift, turning the showerhead at an angle on my lower back, hoping the concentrated spray there will help.
But what it actually does is make me feel this injury more and more. Okay, maybe I need to sit down. I’m starting to feel dizzy from the throbbing pain that keeps shooting down my leg, no matter what position I stand in.
Washing proves to be a little more difficult than usual. Every way I move, I ache. So I try not to move quite so much. While I know I should wash a little more thoroughly, I’d really like to sit down for a minute. So I turn the water off, wrap a towel around myself, and pull the curtain back.
The hot water should have helped. If anything, my back has seized up instead. Walking feels like I’m on pins and needles. Every third step, a sharp twinge goes down my right leg. I’m breathless by the time I get back to my cubby and sit gingerly on the bench.
I won’t say that sitting takes the pain away. It shifts it back into a dull throb. Carefully leaning back, I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing.
Now that the adrenaline from the game has worn off completely, I can feel the true impact of the hit. It had to have been because I was twisted when I was crushed into the boards. Then it felt like a pileup. I was shoved into the boards two additional times, each hit more jarring than the last.
But I played through the game. That was probably a mistake. It ached then. It fuckinghurtsnow.
Fingers in my hair make me open my eyes. Keno stands over me in his towel, concern in his eyes. “You okay?”
I nod. “Just need a minute.”
He frowns, but nods and heads to his own cubby. I watch him go and then close my eyes again. I spend a couple minutes trying to will the pain away. I refuse to lose hockey because of this. This is just stupid. I want to give up hockey on my own time.
A tap against my leg has me opening my eyes again. This time it’s Julian, and he’s fully dressed. I glance around the locker room and realize I’d been sitting here a lot longer than the few minutes I thought I was.
My eyes meet Keno’s. He’s watching me as he buttons his shirt. I look up at Julian. “You don’t look okay.”
“Maybe I’m less okay than I thought.”
“What do you need?” he asks, holding out his hand to help me to my feet.
I reach for him and allow him to pull me up while I wince and grunt. Yeah, okay. I’m far more hurt than I thought. “My underwear.”
Julian raises a brow. “What else do you need?”
Grinning, I sway a little as I glance behind me to my clothes. “Want to see if the doc’s still here?” I ask, turning back to him as Keno steps up beside Julian.
“Yep. Maybe put some clothes on,” Julian suggests, smirking at me as he turns for the door.
“You said you were all right,” Keno accuses as he reaches for my underwear.
“I thought I was. It didn’t hurt quite this much during the game.”
He tugs at my towel until it comes off and then crouches down to help me into my underwear.
