“Does that hurt?” the physio asked.
Olly shook his head. I knew he was telling the truth. I’d seen him in pain enough times recently to know whether he was trying to hold it back or not. I put my hand to my mouth and started gnawing on one of my fingernails. No pain was a good sign, right? It must have healed up well?
“Okay,” the physio said, sitting back. “I’m pretty pleased with the progress you’ve made. I can see you’ve been taking my instructions seriously.”
Olly nodded. He clearly wasn’t in a talkative mood. The physio turned to his desk and took out a pen.
“He’s been using his crutches all the time,” I blurted out.
“Good!” the physio said, turning from whatever he was writing down and beaming at me. “That’s excellent.”
Olly’s cheeks darkened slightly. I felt mine doing the same and decided to shut up. I was supposed to be an invisible and silent observer, after all.
“Alright,” the physio said, finishing what he was writing with a flourish. “I’ve just written a note of recommendation to your Coach that you be allowed back to full practice, with a view to being able to play in the next game if he feels your skills are up to it.”
The smile that spread across Olly’s face was beatific.
“I can play?” he asked.
“If you’re good enough,” the physio said. From his smile, I gathered he was teasing.
“I can play,” Olly said, looking at me with his beam turned up to a thousand watts.
“Great,” I said breathlessly, trying to find a way to get back down to earth from where I’d been caught in his headlights.
Olly swallowed and the smile disappeared from his face. “I don’t need the crutches anymore, right?” he asked.
“No, just leave them here,” the physio replied.
Olly nodded brusquely. He shoved his foot back into his sneaker and then got up abruptly – leaving me scrambling to grab the camera and follow him.
It wasn’t just about the documentary anymore. I told myself I needed to capture his reaction in case it was good footage – but that wasn’t really it, and I knew it.
I needed to know if he was okay, because I cared about him.
And having him just rush away like that without saying anything stung more than I was willing to admit.
Olly
“Are you okay?”
I looked around and slightly down. Keaton had managed to catch up with me.
That wasn’t the plan.
“Yeah,” I said. I carried on walking.
“Um, are you really okay?” Keaton asked. He was scurrying beside me, trying to keep up with my longer stride. He was carrying a heavy video camera, and he wasn’t as fit as I was, anyway, even with my newly healed injury. I would be able to outpace him, no problem. I just had to keep walking for long enough.
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“It’s just,” Keaton said, and I wished and wished he would leave it alone. “You were really happy at first, and then you got quiet.”
I stopped walking abruptly and turned to him. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to think I would…” I paused and looked around. There was no one in earshot if I spoke quietly. “Kiss you again.”
Keaton’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. It was a perfect moment. If I hadn’t been so full of self-loathing, I would have laughed.
I turned and carried on walking.
