Page 70 of Thunderstruck
Chapter Twenty
Carissa
The next week isone of the worst weeks of my life. Moxie’s MRI results are even worse than I expected—he tore his ACL, MCL,andhis meniscus, the holy trifecta of knee injuries. He’s scheduled for surgery next week but comes to practice on Monday, looking perfectly normal as he carefully walks to the locker room with a knee brace. But every once in a while, one of his steps is wobbly and pain crosses his face. Mel, who apparently told him to stay home and isn’t at all happy to see him, tells him that she will personally tackle him and tie him down if he tries to join in on practice, so he spends the day on the sidelines, directing drills and shouting encouragement.
Coach Galvin glares at him every time Moxie opens his mouth.
Cole and Moxie have a long conversation on Tuesday morning, and Moxie seems fine with Cole being captain by proxy. They fall into asort of rhythm, where Moxie says things to Cole, who in turn says it to the team. It appeases Coach, who becomes increasingly less involved in practice as the week goes on, but the rest of the guys grumble every time Cole passes on Moxie’s direction. At least they seem to understandwhyit’s happening, and Cole almost always follows Moxie’s lead when they’re working on drills.
As the days go on, though, I can tell Cole is starting to get frustrated. Starting Tuesday morning, he heads to the stadium early and stays late in the weight room, so he orders rides rather than joining me, and his smiles have been painfully absent all week while he’s out on the field. I don’t know if he hates that he’s forced into the captain spot or if he wants to lead his own way rather than Moxie’s, and I can’t ask which it is because Cole avoids me like the plague.
Apparently he took our boundaries to the extreme.
For my part, Mel and I have done a deep dive into preventing another injury like Moxie’s. She’s been drilling taping techniques into me, and I’ve been implementing more warmups into the daily routine, to the point where it feels like half of practice is spent stretching. That, plus extra time in the weight room, and hopefully no one else will end up with a non-contact injury like Moxie’s. The work is a nice distraction from the fact that Cole and I have reverted back to strangers.
It’s probably for the best, keeping our distance, but I already miss the flirting and the heated looks. I miss the way Cole was relaxed and happy.
On Friday, while I’m sitting on the field with tape in case anyone needs it while the team runs practice plays at the end of the night, Moxie comes to sit next to me, grunting as he stretches his leg out in front of him. Coach isn’t here today, but Moxie seems perfectly content to let Cole and the assistant coaches run things. Or maybe he’s done putting on a brave face now that Mel left early for the day to pick up her kid. He and Mel have been giving each other unreadable looks all week, though I’m not sure either of them realizes it.
I badly want to ask if something happened between them over the weekend, but I’m not brave enough for that.
“How’s your knee feeling?” I ask.
Moxie grunts, eyes on his team. We haven’t spoken much this week—Mel has been good about checking on him—but I’ve seen plenty of his frustration in his eyes. This injury must be driving him crazy. “It feels better now than it will next week,” he says after a while.
I wince in sympathy. “Yeah, recovery isn’t going to be fun. But you know you can’t play with an injury like this.”
“I know. Do you…” He ducks his head. “Has…has Cole said anything to you about the captain thing?”
He hasn’t said anything to me at all. But I keep that frustration to myself and instead ask, “Like what?”
Moxie shrugs. “Something is holding him back. I told him that I’m fine with him stepping into that role, but he keeps deferring to me. Why? Coach gave him the captaincy, and it’s not like I can be all that helpful. I know he has it in him, but he’s…” He shakes his head. “He’ll never be a good captain if he doesn’t trust himself.”
Moxie handed off the role? From what I’ve watched this week, I thought for sure Moxie wanted to do as much as he could to lead the team, with or without the title of captain. Hugging one of my legs, I watch the team run a play before I say anything. How much would Cole want me to share? I would know if he would talk to me.
“I think…” I swallow, hoping I’m making the right choice. “I don’t think Cole is worried about himself. I think he’s worried about how the other guys will respond.”
Moxie falls onto his back and shuts his eyes. “He hasn’t even tried!”
“Maybe, but you know how the team treats him.” And I’ve been a terrible friend because I’ve done nothing to help him make connections with the other players. Not only have I failed Cole, but I’ve failed Derek and Freya and all the others who are expecting me to help Cole settle intohis new role. “I want to help him,” I say, letting the words wash over me. I do want that. I just have to make it happen instead of wallowing in my failing friendship. “Is there some sort of fairy godmother for connecting a guy to his teammates?”
Moxie looks over at me, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Youcould convince them to give Cole a chance.”
“Maybe,” I agree. “But I should have done something earlier in the week. With no game tomorrow, I won’t be able to do anything until Monday, and the guys will have a whole weekend to solidify their opinions of him after this nightmare of a week.”
I watch as Cole says something to Wyatt, who completely ignores him as he walks past. Cole scowls, and it’s clear this isn’t the first time that has happened in recent minutes. Even if Cole wasn’t the team captain, he’s still the lead over the backs. No one bats an eye when French Roast gives directions to the forwards.
“We can fix that,” Moxie says, sitting up again. There’s an eagerness in his expression that hasn’t been there this week, and I’m glad to see some life in him again. “On bye weeks like this, the guys usually go out for drinks.”
“I’m having a hard time picturing Cole out for drinks with the Thunder.”
“That’s because he never comes with us,” Moxie says with a roll of his eyes. “But I’d bet you can convince him to change his tune tonight.”
I don’t know about that. Things have been strained between us all week, so there’s no telling if he would actually listen to me. That’s not to say I won’t try. I am all for having an excuse to talk to him after going most of this week with barely a few words between us.
The team breaks up, heading toward us and the locker room behind us. None of the players look all that happy with the way practice has gone today, but none of them are as surly as Cole at the back.
“He’s not in the best of moods today,” Moxie says with some wariness. “But we can’t keep going like this. The team’s falling apart.”
