‘If you push yourself too hard, you’ll break. Rest is part of rehab too, Campbell.’
The rapper in my ear freestyles about working to the max and breaking past your limits. I let the rhythm fill my body and swing my head from side to side.
I’m here.
Even if I shouldn’t be.
Even if the doctors weren’t exactly applauding my decision.
‘You’re technically healed now. But healed doesn’t mean ‘the same’. Your leg is half flesh and half metal. If you crack that bone again…’
It would be easier if I could stay away from hockey. But you might as well ask me to stop breathing first.
Risk is a part of the game.
Everybody knows that.
I just have a slightly bigger risk than others.
The music is suddenly ripped out of my ears and I reach out on instinct, ready to snatch my earbud back.
“Cool. What’s this?” Price, a fellow trainee, sticks one of my earbuds in. He juts his chin out, bobbing in an off-beat way to the song and I’m suddenly hit with the realization that I may have looked just as embarrassing earlier.
“Yo, yo. This is fire. What song is this?”
I snatch the earbud back. “Don’t know. It was in my playlist.”
Price pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “What’s the link to the playlist?”
“Not sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not a public playlist.”
“Oooh.” A sly grin shimmies across his face and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Did your girlfriend make you a couple’s playlist?”
I scowl at him, refraining from thumping him on the back of the head for the gross insinuation. “It was a gift from my little sister.”
Technically, Riley Carter isn’t my little sister. At least not by blood. And I, actually, haven’t heard from or seen her in years. But time and distance won’t change the fact that she’s Chris’s little sister.
And since Chris is my sworn, spit-on-the-palms, no-take-backsies brother since middle school, Riley’s my sister by default.
I don’t make the rules.
The playfulness leaves Price’s smile and he shrugs, bored. Dropping the earbud back into my open palm, he pleads. “Coach said we’re splitting teams today. Can I be your first pick? I really need to score some points or I’ll be cut next week.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say to brush him off.
Price’s eyes light up. “Sweet.”
I watch Price scamper away while I turn my playlist back on. The poor guy will be cut next week whether or not he’s on my team. Price is always the first to leave practice and has the most complaints about the team manager, the coach, and the facilities.
I’m not sure why he wants to be here when he seems to badmouth everything so much.
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s young and healthy.
He can just try again.
