It went exactly as I’ve been trained—from the other side—to expect it would. Which means I know better than to expect anything but the worst.
Chapter 42
Beckett
I’mlyingonmyback, windshield wipering my knees back and forth slowly as I wait for my ten-thirty appointment, to be evaluated by the medical team, when my phone buzzes.
Larsen
You’re coming to our place to watch the Bears play the Archers tonight, yeah?
Me
No.
Larsen
I already told the chef you’ll be there. It’s going to be all the carbs you can eat.
Me
Not this time.
I set the phone back next to me and stand, dropping into a series of slow, easy side lunges and hip flexor stretches. The first few weeks after the season ends—especially if you don’t make it deep into the playoffs—are all about rest and recovery.
So I’m resting. And recovering. And following the individualized programs the physical therapist, strength coaches, and doctors gave me. And it’s been the longest three days of my life. Because it turns out, when you’re prioritizing injury rehab, you spenda lotof time resting. And I hate resting.
My phone vibrates again, and I groan in anticipation of Larsen’s comeback. This isn’t what I need. Instead, though, it’s someone much harder for me to ignore.
Li
Come to the watch party tonight. I promise you can have the seat furthest from Larsen.
Me
Can’t tonight.
My fingers tap the screen, a guilty energy flowing through me at the white lie.
Li
What could you possibly have going on? Lefevre said he saw you at the arena five minutes ago, so I know you’re still in town.
You know what? Don’t answer that. I know it’s nothing, and I don’t want you to lie to me. Again.
I’ll see you at seven, or we’re moving the party to your place.
I don’t bother responding. Not that I need to. At least if I go to their place, I’ll be able to leave when I want. If they show up at my place, they’ll barge in and stay. And stay. And keep on staying, way past the time I want to go to bed.
Finally, Doctor Lowell calls me back for my end-of-season evaluation.
“Ready, Kane?”
No. Never ready for a physical evaluation.
“Of course!” I say instead, walking into the medical room, where Doctor Lowell and two trainers are waiting for me.
They have me run through a timeline of my hip symptoms, from onset to aggravating factors to when it improved. They map the various pain areas across my body, which extend beyond my injury to include my lower back and left shoulder. After talking for what feels like an hour, the doctor just typing away, documenting everything, we start the hands-on physical exam. I try not to cringe as they test my hip, though I can’t help it when my groin strength is considerably worse than it should be.
