“Two-hour practical this morning and then I have an hour before my next class.”
“I can’t make that, after?”
“Nope, my afternoon is full; Tuesday is my busy day. I don’t finish until six.” I was at the sports building now. “I’m at class, what is it?”
“We have a three-hour practice session today. We’ll be done by six, maybe six thirty. Make your way to the stadium when you’re finished. Family meeting,” Jett instructed me.
“Why?”
“Queeny.” I heard the reproach, and I fought the eye roll at the tone. He was younger than me, but I swear to God, sometimes he thought he was my older brother.
“Fine. Ash?”
“You get us all, I said family meeting.”
He hung up on me, and I added another Santo prick to my list of people I was going to punch today.
I liked sports. I enjoyed the company of athletes, and even if I didn’t, pounding the shit out of people in the form of a “massage” was soothing to me. The deep tissue massage image I had shown Jett a few weeks ago was so amazingly Zen . . . for me. The recipient was sure I hated them; I had no doubt, but I would challenge anyone to tell me the next day that they didn’t feel great. As I watched the point guard for the basketball team struggle to get off my table, I amended it to two days. He may still hurt tomorrow, but after that, he will be like a new guy.
“Quinn, you look like you’re enjoying yourself,” my professor said as he approached me. He was great, I loved his classes. Dimitri had been a trainer for the Olympic gymnastics squad and was so incredibly down-to-earth. Learning from him was a joy. His experience was unparalleled, and he taught both theory and practicality with equal passion.
“It’s quite relaxing,” I admitted to him. “Although, I’m still hesitant about bending his leg that far back.”
“And you’d be right to, because your clients may not be honest with you. They may not tell you that they actually have a strain or a twinge. Something so small to us may be the reason they don’t play the next game if the coach thinks they could be injured.”
“But to not tell me could hurt them more.” I cleaned my hands as I waited for my next victim.
“But you can’t stop them from playing.”
“I can if I take small muscle discomfort and turn it into inflamed ligaments.”
“Exactly!” My professor smiled at me as he looked at the center for the basketball team waiting for my attention. “You’re exceptionally talented, Quinn, there is no denying that, but I am going tohave to put an end to the number of ‘volunteers’ that come to your table for your practical.”
I didn’t hide my grin as he looked uncomfortable. “You think I’m popular for more than my healing hands?”
Dimitri laughed. “Yes, unfortunately I do. Plus, you don’t need the practice that your classmates do. So, for the rest of this lesson, you will supervise their skills and technique and assist. Yes?”
My eyes lit up with delight. “Play teacher?”
Seeing my enthusiasm, Dimitri clasped my shoulder with affection. “Don’t make me regret this.” With a laugh, he walked away from me, and I called one of the guys in my class over to my table.
“You’re up, Dimitri asked me to help.”
Instructing my classmates wasn’t as satisfying as actually carrying out the work, but the time still passed quickly.
Heading to the coffee shop after class, I spotted Ava sitting under her tree. It wasn’t her tree, obviously, but she claimed it as hers, and I was pretty sure even in the dead of winter, I would find her here. Her head was bent over a book, her hair loose, which caught in the wind, but it wasn’t distracting her.
“Hi,” I said as I approached. Her smile was wide as she looked up at me, and she immediately patted beside her.
“I’m going to get coffee,” I told her with a shake of my head, and I saw her face light up. “Want to come?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Ava asked me as she started packing her stuff up.
“Um, sure. What if they’re in a zoo?”
Ava hesitated slightly and then shrugged. “Okay, does a bear in its natural habitat shit in the woods?”
“You drive Jett insane, don’t you?” I asked knowingly as I grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet.
