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You don’t have to be a professional athlete to teach some kids how to maul. I’ve handed your ass to you more than enough times. BOTH of you.

Dax

Did you hear that? That was everyone who’s ever played with you, laughing.

Liam

Dax

Alright lassies, are we hitting the bar tonight or what?

Liam

I forgot I gave Ava the night off so I have to work, but come anyway.

Dax

Last time I came to “hang out” while you were working, I ended up on barback duties.

Knox

I’ve got my first physical therapy in an hour. I’m calling it an early night.

Liam

You guys suck.

My chest shakes with a laugh, but I’m quickly distracted by a kid violently shoving his gear in his duffle bag.

“Berkley, right?” I call over to him, but he doesn’t look my way. “Ronan,” I try again, and I almost think he can’t hear me, but I catch his eyes rolling. He picks up his phone, continuing to ignore me, and since practice is over, I let him.

“Fuck.” His aggravated breath is not louder than a whisper, but it pulls my attention back to him.

“You good?”

He drops his head back, and just when I start to get annoyed, he shoves his phone into his bag.

“Fine.” I want to pack my own shit and get out of his moody teenage presence, but I stay put, twisting my phone between my fingers.

“Anything I can help with?”

“No.” He shoulders his bag without another look in my direction and stalks off.

“Lovely,” I say to no one.

When I leftmy doctor’s office yesterday, I drove home with the window down and with my arm out the window—a movement I hadn’t realized I had taken for granted before. I had thought about nothing but getting that cast and sling removed for weeks, and yet when I drove home yesterday, I felt no different. There was no big monumental shift. I’d associated that cast with the reminder of why I couldn’t play anymore. Of everything that was gone. Now the cast was gone and everything else stayed the same.

I’m sitting in the waiting room of my physical therapist’s office when my phone vibrates in my pocket, I pull it out, finding an e-mail from Coach Henderson. I drop my elbows to my knees as I open and read it.

Good news buddy, I’ve talked with the league and our managers and I’m happy to report that we’ve found a spot for you. Knox Browning the new Strength and Conditioning coaching assistant. I know it’s been hard on you, mate, but this is always where you were going to end up, even if it happened a few years before we planned. Call me soon so we can work out the fine details and get a contract over to you. I hope your recovery has been going smoothly and that being home has given you the clarity and ability to focus on your healing. I can’t wait to have you back mate.

-Henderson

I look around the empty waiting room before re-reading that last sentence a third time. As I’m waiting to be called into my first physical therapy session, I realize that at some point during the last few days, my rehabilitation has been the furthest thing from my mind.

“Browning?” a soft voice calls and I drag my head up. Awoman in scrubs smiles where she stands with her clipboard. “We’re going to head right down this way.”

I follow her down the short hallway, going over Hendersons’ email in my head. Strength and Conditioning Coach. He says it’s where I would have ended up. like it’s a given, but I’ve never thought any further than the moment I was in. My focus has always been one hundred percent on what's going to make me the best player right now. Lately, my focus has been split between my friends, my family, and now the Sundevils. The one thing taking up most of my attention, though, is the girl in the corner room of the inn.