And people. So many people.
The entire Havoc roster is here. Thorne and Beck stretching in the corner. Jett and Connor comparing hamstring flexibility. Shane showing Theo some hip opener I taught him last week. Hunter doing absolutely nothing productive, just standing around with a protein shake like he owns the place.
The Coven's here too. Juliet in full PR mode, taking photos for social media. Jessa and Mollie setting up a snack table that nobody asked for but everyone will appreciate. Wren chatting with Coach Ryan, her hand resting on her barely-there baby bump while she beams. She’s the cutest pregnant person I’ve ever seen.
Sable stands near the front, talking to Dad. My dad, who drove over from his assisted living facility with Sable this morning specifically for this. He's using his cane but standing tall, looking proud and healthy in a way I haven't seen in years.
And it looks like he’s brought a few friends with him, as well. A bunch of ladies from his retirement community are clustered around Dad, seeing to his every need. I don’t quite understand the nature of their relationships, but my Dad seems to be fitting in well in the community. He’sthriving.
"Scout!" Juliet spots me and waves. "Get over here. We need to cut the ribbon."
"There's a ribbon?"
Her eyes widen a fraction. "Of course there's a ribbon. I'm a professional."
She drags me to the front entrance where someone has strung up an actual ribbon across the doorway. Silas produces a pair of giant gold scissors from somewhere. The team gathers around, phones out, recording.
"Speech!" someone yells. Probably Jett.
I flush. "I didn't prepare a speech."
"Good," Beck calls out. "Keep it short. Some of us are old and need to pee frequently."
That gets a laugh. I look around at all these faces, these people who showed up for me on a random Tuesday morning. My throat gets tight.
"Okay. Um." I clear my throat. "A few months ago, this was just an idea. A hope that maybe I could help you guys stay healthy and keep playing the sport you love. And then Juliet helped me turn it into a proposal. And then Silas..." I glance at him. He's watching me with that expression that makes my insides go soft. "Silas helped make it real. But this isn't just my studio. It's ours. All of ours. This is a space for the team, built by the team, to support the team. So thank you for believing in me. Thank you for showing up. And thank you for letting me do what I love."
"Cut the damn ribbon!" Thorne shouts. "We've got places to be!"
I laugh and cut the ribbon. It falls to the floor in two neat pieces. Everyone cheers. Someone pops a bottle of champagne that sprays everywhere and makes Juliet shriek about the hardwood floors.
The first official Mobility Monday class in the new studio starts fifteen minutes later. Twenty players show up. That's more than half the roster, more than I ever expected for a voluntary session.
They sprawl across mats, some confident, some looking vaguely terrified. Shane's done this enough times that he knows the routine. Hunter's here purely to support me, which is sweet even if he's going to complain the whole time. Thorne's in the back corner looking grumpy. Mollie's hovering near him with a foam roller, trying to explain how it works while he ignores her.
"Okay everyone," I call out. "We're starting with cat-cow to warm up the spine. On all fours, please."
The room fills with the sound of grown men trying to figure out how to arrange their massive bodies into a tabletop position. It's crazy and perfect.
I move between mats, adjusting postures, offering modifications. Connor needs help with his hip alignment. Theo keeps forgetting to breathe. Shane's got it down but I praise him anyway because positive reinforcement works.
When I reach Hunter, he's doing the movement completely wrong.
"You look like a dying giraffe," I tell him.
"I’m trying, though," he grumbles. “That counts, right?”
"Absolutely. This stretch is helping your body recover from getting checked into the boards three times a game." I press gently on his lower back. "Arch here. Good. Feel that stretch?"
"Yeah," he admits grudgingly. "It feels nice."
"That's because I'm a genius."
His lips twitch. "Don't let it go to your head."
I move on to the next player, then the next. The room settles into a rhythm. Breathing and movement and the occasional grunt when someone discovers a tight muscle they didn't know existed.
Silas watches from the doorway. He's not participating because his shoulder is on complete rest, but he shows up anyway. He’s supporting me. Not just that, he’s proud of me. And he’s making sure that everyone knows today is a big deal.
