Pretend Love Romance by Penny Wylder
AJ
I should have known after all the media blitz surrounding mine and Claire’s engagement, it wouldn’t go unnoticed by my teammates. The moment I walk into the locker room there are questions, a lot of persistent, yet good-natured teasing about my hot fiancée and how I need to watch my back or one of them will swoop her up. They laugh when I’m grumpy and tell them to shut the fuck up. Last thing I want to think about right now is Claire and the latest rejection from her. Whenever I’m practicing, my mind seems to go to a different place. It shuts off and I am all body and muscle memory. I’m never too deep in my head because that tends to lead to mistakes. That’s how I’ve gotten to where I’m at now. On the field, I can compartmentalize. It’s off the field that’s the problem.
Eventually, all the hoopla dies down once the coach has had enough. We run drills, watch videos of the last game and talk strategy. Toward the end of practice, we run plays. I’m finally starting to feel good again. My body is tuned in, my mind is tuned out—at least when it comes to the distraction that is Claire, and I’m killing this play.
That is until the outside linebacker on the other squad hits me. It’s happened a million times in my career with no consequence, and yet today, my leg twists in an unnatural position and I go down. The screams of agony fill my head. Pain radiates through my knee and calf like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, like hot daggers slicing through muscle, bone, and ligament. It feels like my knee is on fire. Looking down, I’m afraid I’m going to see something horrific, like a compound fracture or my leg bent at an unnatural angle. But nothing looks out of place. That’s still no relief. The pain is unbearable.
I can hear the coach calling for the medics. Two stout women run toward me with med kits in their hands. I glance at the rookie linebacker who hit me. He looks just as terrified as I feel, his face a pale shade of green like he might be sick. Hurting your star player as a rookie is not the reputation you want, and despite the pain, I feel for the guy.
“Hey,” I call to him, pain changing my voice into someone I don’t recognize. His bottom lip wavers. I mouth the words ‘don’t cry’ to him. The last thing he needs is to get shit from the team. “Don’t beat yourself up. It was a good tackle and everyone here knows it.”
He nods, looking grateful. The waver in his lips stops and he stands straighter even though he still looks like he might puke.
One of the women tries to move my leg and my screaming reaches an octave I had no idea my voice was capable of.
“Get the stretcher,” one of the medics says. She’s calling for an ambulance. “This isn’t something we can treat here.”
And those words tell me everything I need to know about how bad things really are.
In the ambulance they give me something for the pain but it only takes the edge off and makes my vision a little fuzzy. My knee feels swollen, the skin tight enough to burst open. The pressure is excruciating. The icepacks don’t seem to be helping at all. I feel dizzy and taste bile rising in my throat.
“He’s going into shock,” one of the EMTs announces.
I feel myself fading. I grab the arm of my team rep who rode with me in the ambulance before I black out completely. “Claire,” I tell him. “Get Claire.”
The ambulance hits a bump. The pain is paralyzing. My mouth opens yet again to scream, and then suddenly everything goes black.
* * *
I don’t know now long I’ve been out by the time I finally wake up. Looking around, I know I’m at the Hope Center. I blink groggily as several doctors stand over me, talking amongst themselves. Claire is with them, nodding as they suggest ways to approach things regarding my care. I’m too foggy-headed to understand exactly what they’re saying. Claire glances at me and gives me the most angelic smile I’ve ever seen. God, she’s beautiful. The light shines around her like a halo. My groggy brain keeps saying, ‘I love you’, over and over. It’s a good thing my lips are too dry and cracked to open.
She takes my hand and squeezes. “Everything is going to be okay,” she says. I love her voice too. “All of these doctors are going to take care you.”
I peel my lips apart. Everything hurts. “You’ll watch over me?”
She smooths my hair, her fingers caressing my cheek. “Of course I will.”
That’s all the reassurance I need. I trust her. As I slip under once again, I’m left with the feel of her skin as she intertwines her fingers with mine.
