Page 56 of A Follow-Through in Faking
Remember I can’t have her in any other way than as a fake girlfriend.
Realize how beautiful she is.
Recalling the pain in her face when she told me why she doesn’t like me anymore.
Over and over, like a merry-go-round, my thoughts repeat themselves, but I alsocan’ttear my eyes off her. I can’t stop thinking about ways to make it up to her. I’m planning dates to take her on in my head, and while, for now, I can justify it as part of our fake relationship, what the fuck am I going to do by the end of this season?
When she’ll walk away and leave me in her rearview mirror?
Catalina and I train in silence for an hour. Papá and Charlie join eventually, watching us train and adjusting our stances and swings every now and then. We listen to our coaches the whole time, but even though Cata has adjusted, has taken my feedback into consideration, one of the worst things in the world happens.
Cata screams in pain.
Right as she twists to hit her forehand, her strongest shot, she cries out, dropping her racket and sinking to her knees.
“Fuck!” she calls out, but I’m already sprinting toward her, jumping over the net and dropping my racket to get to her.Charlie is by my side as I bend down to take Cata’s hand in mine, my heart dropping when I see the tears run down her face.
She’s choking for breath, which only causes more panic to slice through me.
“Charlie, what do we do?” I ask, my body shaking in fear.
“Catalina, you need to breathe through it,” Charlie replies, ignoring me.
“Can’t,” she cries, arching her back as if she’s looking for any position that will make her feel less pain.
“She’s had this before. Her back is in spasm from her overusing it. We have to roll her onto her stomach so I can gently massage the area,” they explain, and I shift until my ass is flat on the court, position myself so Catalina can put her head on my legs.
“I’m fine,” she mumbles, but she’s breathing heavily, obviously still in immense pain.
“Put your head in my lap,cariño. We will make you feel better,” I promise her, wiping a few strands of hair off her sweaty forehead.
“Santi, I’m so scared,” she admits, her fingers fisting my pants once she’s positioned in my lap.
“It’ll be okay. Everything will be fine,” I promise her, running a single hand over her hair.
“Deep breath, Lina,” Charlie says right before they start massaging Cata, making her cry in my lap. Her hand finds one of mine, squeezing so hard, I fight back a grunt of pain. “Breathe.” Their voice is firmer now, less asking and more demanding, and it makes the beautiful woman in my lap finally take a deep breath.
“That’s it, Cata,” I say, and her grip on me tightens as she curses me out several times.
It takes minutes until her back stops spasming, but she remains in my lap, letting me massage her head as Charlie runsto get a heating pack and an ice pack as well as painkillers and some sort of salve. They also tell me they’re going to get Cata’s physiotherapist, who should be here at all times anyway. It’s only because she trusts Charlie more than anyone and is so used to only having them around that she doesn’t ask her physio to be with her all the time.
I take her hair out of the ponytail it’s in to sift my fingers through it more easily, going back to massaging her scalp. Catalina doesn’t move, and I think she’s enjoying the way I’m touching her. I, on the other hand, am still too full of panic to appreciate the way she melts against me.
“How often does this happen,mariquita?” I ask, running a hand over her forehead. I can only see the side of her face, but it’s enough for me to know she doesn’t want to tell me.
“Not often, only when I really overdo it. I think this was the fourth time now,” she says, and I reach down to run a single hand up and down her spine.
It’s a soft touch because I don’t want to hurt her and am also not remotely qualified enough to massage her properly. Charlie has some training in physiotherapy, but they also only did as much as they could given the information they probably had from the first three times this happened.
“I went to three different doctors, but they couldn’t help me. They told me to take things slow and deal with it with painkillers.”
I want to strangle all of those doctors.
“Catalina, I know you don’t want me to say it, but I think you have to take a break. You have to slow down.” As soon as the words have left my mouth, she sits up. She presses her lips together, probably to keep from screaming in pain. I try to help her, but she swats my hands away.
“I can’t. You know my goals for the season. How can I achieve them if I take a break?” When she tries to get up, I place a hand on her arm, stopping her.
“You don’t have to take a break. Maybe slowing down will be enough,” I say softly. She looks irritated, but not with me.
