I pretty much cracked the knuckles on my right hand and my wrist.
I tried to leave, telling them I’d take care of it, but Max wouldn’t let me. Probably on Paige’s orders.
He slammed me back into the chair every time I started to get up. The doctors looked at us with unease.
A shy redheaded nurse came in and hooked me up to an IV and told me it’d relax me.
Max winked at her. I doubted there was just IV in that bag, but I signed shit and didn’t even know what it was for.
And now because of Max, after wasting the whole day there, I was leaving the place with a bulky, stupid-ass cast from my forearm to my fingers to hold them in place.
“I could’ve fucking taped it up every day. Not my first time punching a wall,” I grunted.
Max scrunched his eyebrows in concern and hit the parking garage’s elevator button, “Me neither but I’ve never punched a brick wall as hard as I could. You couldn’t walk like a couple paces inside and choose drywall? Big difference there, bud.”
We stood in silence until the elevator released us. I was still pissed, not at him, but at myself and the whole situation.
“Only motherfucking girls get casts,” I spat at Max as I continued to follow him through the garage to his car.
Max looked at me and cocked an eyebrow, “Dude, that is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard you say, and you’ve said a lot of dumb shit. Did you not hear the doctor? They’re looking at it again in a couple weeks and you might need surgery. You don’t want to mess with knuckles and shit,” he warned. “Don’t you ever wanna play pass with the kids again? A hand is kind of important.”
“What fucking kids?” I snapped at him before I could register what he was saying. For the first time I regretted what I’d done. Not for myself, but for my team. For Canyon.
“Jesus, don’t bite my head off, I’m just saying.”
He unlocked his car, and I quickly threw the door open and slammed my ass into the seat.
Smitty was already sprawled out playing video games on the sofa when Max and I entered my place.
“Make yourself at home,” I mumbled.
He looked at me then, taking in the cast, “Yikes bro, tough break.”
I ignored him and proceeded to my kitchen. I needed a beer.
“Woah there, bud. Not today, you’ve had a ton of shit already pumped into you,” Max chided me like I was a child and swiped the beer I’d just placed on the counter. He popped the top off and took a swig for himself.
“You’re welcome for taking you in,” he said and turned towards my living room to join Smitty.
Smitty looked at me like he was bracing for impact.
“Wanna play?” He grimaced.
I looked at him dryly.
“Sure, let me just break this off with a hammer first.”
“Sleep it off. You’ve got practice tomorrow morning with the kiddies,” Max said.
Great. No way I could face her now. I’d have to hide my hand from her out of pure embarrassment.
Chapter Twenty-nine: Jules- present
When it came to morning practices, I was probably in the minority of athletes, but I always loved them. Waking up fresh and feeling so powerful being the first to mark up the clean ice was an unbeatable feeling.
I was happy Canyon was getting to experience it.
I hoped he loved them as much as I had. I selfishly planned on trying to foster a little love of them in him by restarting a tradition of mine this Saturday. I was going to take him to the Tim Horton’s across the street for some donuts after finishing up here at the rink.
