Page 44 of Kissing is the Easy Part
At time out, Jake grips my arm. “Are you okay? Do you need a break?”
“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth, shrugging him off.
Jake doesn’t buy it. “You sure? You look—”
“I said I’m fine.”
The whistle blows. Play restarts.
I steady myself, then run toward the opposite end. The basket is right in front of me. The crowd roars. Flora stands on the sidelines but I don’t look at her.
She’s watching.
I jump off my left foot and make a shot.
As soon as the ball leaves my hand, I know it’s going in. A clean arc. It sinks into the net without touching the rim. Then I land, and a sharp pain shoots through my right leg.
I hear the snap before I feel it.
Junior year basketball is over for me.
* * *
Jake and Dylan sit with me in the emergency room. “If it’s any consolation,” Dylan says as we wait, “the season’s almost over, so you won’t miss much. You picked a good time to bust your knee.”
Jake nods. “Yeah, we only have one big game left. We can still win.”
The AC is too strong and it’s drilling a hole through my skull. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You’ll realize you can win without me.”
Dylan claps me on the shoulder. “Dude, we know you’re a shitty player. We still love you.”
The hospital isn’t unfamiliar. Jake’s sister had her chemo sessions here when she was diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma. All the doctors and nurses thought Jake was the sweetest angel when he shaved his head with her. Dylan’s dad spent his last days here too. Dyl barely said a word through it all, just paced the corridors, fists clenched, hoodie up like he could disappear into it.
Now it’s my turn. For something much smaller, much less important. But I’ve never quite noticed how cold this room is or how the humming and the beeping fill every corner. The sharp scent of disinfectant and alcohol pads clings to the air. My knee has swollen to the size of a baseball, and it stings like a beehive. I’m caged in, locked away from everything I take for granted.
Upcoming games. Driving to school. College visits. Our summer cycling trip to Germany. We were supposed to stay with Jake’s uncle in Munich, ride through the countryside, and “take on Europe as the Three Musketeers,” as Dylan put it.
I grit my teeth. “I can’t go to Germany with you guys.”
“Yeah, don’t stress,” Jake says. I wait for him to tell me they’ll send pictures. “Let’s reschedule.”
Dylan nods. “We won’t go without you.”
“Hey, don’t cancel because of me,” I say, and it comes out a bit croaked. The way that they’re so certain and quick to reply, like it’s not even a question worth considering, makes my throat constrict. Being in the hospital really messes with my head.
“One for all and all for one,” Dylan says. “No big deal.”
The curtain pulls back and a doctor steps in. He tells me they’re seeing signs consistent with an ACL injury, and without that ligament to stabilize my knee joint, my treatment options include crutches, rehab, physical therapy, and the possibility of reconstructive surgery. “We’ll need imaging to confirm the extent of the tear, and when your parents are here, we’ll discuss your options in more detail.” My knee throbs even more after hearing all that.
When the curtain swings aside again, a huge batch of balloons enters my vision first, followed by Josie, Madison, and lingering a few steps behind, Flora. Flora with her glossy dark hair, luminous hazel eyes, and the annoying click of heels that disrupts my heart rhythm. She stands as far away from me as possible.
“We wanted to see how you’re doing,” Madison says. This is probably the first time she’s spoken to me without hostility since Flora and I split. No one knows the real reason behind the breakup, not even Josie. It’s fine, and I’ve accepted being wronged and taking the blame, but they’re here now. The upside of this injury is Flora’s gang is semifriendly to me again.
“Speak for yourselves. I’m only here to run into some hot doctors,” Flora says. She shifts her gaze to my knee, stares at it for a second before she glances away. “Does it hurt?”
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Will you still be able to play?” Josie asks.
