He appeared fine at the press conference after. A little grim but fine. Also, he called the house to talk to Leah later that night – he always calls after every game of his – and well, I listened in – I always do.
The conversation was slightly critical on Leah’s part because they’d lost but nothing out of the ordinary. No signs whatsoever that there was something wrong with him.
I was actually mourning the fact that I wouldn’t get to watch him play all that much anymore because of the stupid TV rules at St. Mary’s.
So I really don’t get it.
What the fuck happened?
“Can you tell us how long you expect the recovery to take?”
Another question fired off screen and to him but this time, he isn’t even paying attention to them. He has his head dipped down and he’s looking at his fists on the table. He’s practically glaring at them and God, I have a very bad feeling about this.
Verybad.
What’s happening?
Why’s he acting this way, when he’s always been so professional and polite?
When the coach realizes that his player won’t answer the question – he looks kinda shocked by Arrow’s defiance too – he takes the reins. “It’s a very typical meniscus tear. I’m glad it happened during practice and we were able to get help quickly. It’s minor right now but we all know that knee injuries have a way of creeping up on you, especially if you play contact sports. So we want to take every precaution that we can so it doesn’t turn into something major.”
I swallow when Arrow still won’t look up.
His posture has gone even tighter, as if he’s repelling his coach’s words. As if he’s repelling everything that’s going on around him.
“Will you be staying in LA for the duration of your recovery?”
For some reason, it feels like the pause after this question is longer and heavier. Or maybe it’s my own anticipation of what the answer is.
My own anticipation to hear his voice, his rich, deep voice.
A voice that I dream about.
Leaning forward, he looks into one of the cameras and it feels like he’s staring directly at me. “No. It’s been kindly pointed out to me that I need to disappear for a while, go off the radar. So I can heal. Recover from the injury that frankly no one saw coming. And well, I agree. So I’ll be going east…” He trails off before his words become curt and clipped. “Back to my hometown, St. Mary’s.”
What?
No, no, no.
He didn’t say St. Mary’s, did he?
He didn’t say he’s coming back.
No, he didn’t.
He couldn’t have.
Because he can’t come back. I don’twanthim to come back.
I don’t.
I want him to stay far, far away.
He was the reason I was running away that night. He was the reason I stole that money and I was going to go somewhere before they caught me and stuck me inside a cage.
So he can’t come back when he was the one I was running away from.
My Arrow, the guy I’m in love with.
