Page 14

CHAPTER 14

JUST ONE LOOK

JACKSON

“A re you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Clay asks as he drops me off in front of the athletics facility.

“Don’t you have class?”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just my Business Analytics class. I can do that shit in my sleep.”

As much as I wouldn’t mind having someone there supporting me today, I also don’t think I can think of anything worse than someone witnessing the humiliation that is about to occur.

It’s my first day of physical therapy post-surgery, which I thought was going to be further out than three fucking days post-op. However, my doctor told me that with my activity and fitness level, there should be no reason I shouldn’t heal up faster than most.

Whoopty-fucking-doo.

It’s safe to say I’m absolutely dreading whatever is about to happen.

? * Be that as it may, I know Clay is just as disappointed about the entire situation as I am. Me being out our senior year has not only put everything I’ve worked for at risk but all of his work is at risk too. He’s going to have to learn how to work with a brand new partner in hopes that their skills will be enough to not only win a championship but pull the attention of the Olympic scouts as well.

And cherry on top of the cake is that his new partner is the one person on the team that Clay can’t seem to get along with.

Rocky Campos.

So, instead of making his life even harder and asking that he miss class, I give him a weak smile and say, “Thanks, man. But, I’m good.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he nods anyway. “Alright. I’ll pick you up out here after class.”

I tried to align most of my physical therapy appointments with Clay’s schedule, considering I can’t walk very far with my brace and crutches yet, and I’m not allowed to drive a car. I’m just thankful our school has a slew of physical therapists on staff for athletes, and Clay didn’t have to schlep me across town to see someone else. I’d hate to be more of a burden than I already am. “Sounds good.”

I manage to finagle my braced leg out of Clay’s Mercedes-AMG CLS, which I keep telling him is a ridiculously pretentious car for a college student, but that’s neither here nor there, grab my crutches and backpack, and watch as he drives away.

With my crutches under my arms, and my backpack on my back, I stare at the doors to the athletics facility. Trying my best to mentally prepare myself for the torture I’m about to endure. And as pissed off as I am about this entire situation, I know that I’ll never get better, I’ll never have a second chance, if I don’t take the first step.

“Well,” I say to no one but me. “Today’s as good a day as any.”

* * *

“Come on, Jax. Two more.”

I’m doing simple heel slides, and I can feel beads of sweat pouring down my forehead.

I’m sweating… from doing heel slides.

How the mighty have fallen.

“I know I just met you, Chris. But I really want to punch you in the face,” I huff out as I slowly slide my leg flat against the table.

Smirking, he replies, “I have that effect more often than not.” Don’t get me wrong, Chris seems like a nice guy, but this fucking sucks, and he’s the only one here I can take it out on. “But I promise, if you being pissed at me will motivate you to heal faster, then I can take it.” Chris winks and I roll my eyes. “Alright. Last one.”

It takes every muscle I have to slide my leg back toward my ass. I can only move it a few inches, but it may as well be a mile. Even bending the joint at such a small degree feels next to impossible.

“And back down,” Chris instructs.

I do as he says and return my leg to it’s resting position, thanking god that this hour of torture is finally over.

Chris helps me sit up and put my brace back on before handing me my water bottle. Once I’m off the brink of death, he hands me a packet of papers. I flip through it to find all of the exercises we did today. “I want you to do each of these twice a day until I see you next week.”

“Twice a day. Got it.”

“And remember, no weight bearing, no stairs, no driving, and always wear the brace.” I sigh heavily and nod. “I’ll see you back here, same time on…”

“Friday,” I answer eagerly. Because as much as I hated this, I want to get better even more.

“Friday,” Chris agrees before helping me get the rest of my things together.

We say our goodbyes, and I exit his office. But as his door closes behind me I see an all too familiar name on the one directly across the hall. I didn’t notice it when I walked in because my eyes were zeroed in on the office of doom. But there it is. His name in big letters with the school’s logo right on the door.

Theodore Young.

And as I let my eyes wander through the small window next to the door, I see him. Already staring at me.

But when I raise my hand to wave awkwardly, he doesn’t wave back. In fact, he pretends like I didn’t even do it at all and looks back at whatever he was doing on his computer.

Perfect .

As if I wasn’t already going to be dreading these appointments, now I have to deal with him pretending I’m not right across the hall.

Just fucking perfect.

* * *

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I stand outside of Chris’ office while waiting for him to finish up with the appointment before me. I had Clay drop me off early for my Friday appointment in hopes that if I stood out here long enough Theo would actually decide to speak to me. Or maybe even wave. Hell, I’d even take a simple look in my direction. However, despite how hard I stare through the window at him, he’s given me nothing.

But I know he knows I’m here because he did the same thing he did the other day. As soon as he saw me in the hall he buried his handsome fucking face in his computer screen and hasn’t looked up once since.

That was twenty minutes ago.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket I find a text from my brother.

Emerson

I understand you have to sleep on the couch until you're able to use the stairs, but if you leave your shoes in the middle of the living room one more time I will cut your dick off.

Despite my sour attitude I snort a laugh. He came down in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, and I fully heard him eat shit when he tripped over my shoe. Even though I pretended not to.

Me

How bout you suck my dick.

Emerson

… I’m your brother. Don’t be rude.

Me

Says the one who said he’d chop off my dick.

Emerson

Don’t make me tell mom on you.

Me

Ooooo. I’m soooo scared.

Emerson

You should be.

Me

Whatever, Momma’s boy.

Emerson

I’M NOT A MOMMA’S BOY!

Laughing, I pocket my phone as I hear the door to Chris’ office open. A girl I know from the swim team walks out, and Chris pops his head out behind her. He pinches his brow in confusion before pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “You could have waited in one of the chairs in here.”

It’s a large room filled with a plethora of physical therapy equipment, including a few treadmills and stair machines. It’s easily big enough to treat several patients at once. But if I’m in there I can’t be out here.

And out here is where I can see Theo.

“I know. I was just talking to my brother on the phone.”

He shrugs nonchalantly and picks my backpack up off the floor for me. “Come on in.”

As Chris walks back into the physical therapy room, I look across the hall one more time, hoping he’ll look at me. Just once. Little to my surprise… he doesn’t.

* * *

If I hear him laugh into that phone one more goddamn time I'm going to send my own phone through his door.

It’s been weeks… WEEKS of this bullshit, and I’ve just about had enough.

Enough physical therapy.

Enough watching Clay and Rocky play while I watch from the stands.

Enough of pretending I’m fine when it feels like my world is falling apart.

And enough of Theo blatantly pretending like I don’t exist.

I won’t deny that I’m physically healing better than anyone ever expected, but mentally… mentally I’m hanging on by a thread.

And every time Theo laughs into that phone while actively ignoring me that thread gets thinner and thinner.

I know he knows I’m out here. I’ve been coming to these physical therapy appointments at the exact same time, on the exact same days, for weeks.

Not once since I got hurt has he checked in on me. Despite how he was that day in the hospital and helping me into the house. It’s as if he could give less than a fuck.

Some days I wish that were me. I wish I didn’t care about him.

But I do. I really fucking do.

And since I haven’t had volleyball to obsess over, my obsession with him has only grown tenfold.

He may not want to look at me, but I sure as hell want to look at him. Every minute of every day. And if he won’t give me that, well… I guess I’ll just have to take care of it myself.

* * *

Just like the night Theo and I kissed in the parking lot, it takes me all of five minutes to hack into the school’s security system and access the cameras in the sports complex.

I shuffle through a couple of angles before I spot Theo in the supply room stocking his bag for this afternoon’s away game. My eyes are glued to the screen. Addicted to watching him do the most mundane of tasks.

I can’t make sense of any of it, and I don’t want to.

So I don’t move. I watch him from every angle possible until he gets on the bus and it pulls out of the parking lot. And when the team returns the following afternoon—I watch him then, too

* ? PSYCHO - HARDY