Page 63 of Spin Serve

“DJ, can I talk–”

“No,” DJ interrupted.

Aspen looked up and saw a reporter they’d been interviewed by before the match. She wasn’t Kendra, and she was from a different network that was covering only the final of the event, which still hadn’t been televised in the US but had been streaming. That had her thinking of Kendra and wishing that the woman was here because she’d know to go talk to the other team and leave Aspen and DJ alone when Aspen was clearly injured.

“Sorry, but she needs to get to the med tent. Talk to the winners,” DJ added and nodded toward the other team, who was still celebrating on the court.

It was their first major win, so Aspen understood. Besides, it wasn’t their fault that Aspen had gotten injured and her ankle still hadn’t recovered.

“It felt fine the previous two matches. I just don’t understand,” she said when the trainer got there.

“Let’s get you to the tent. I don’t want you walking on it. And I want it elevated.” He helped Aspen stand up.

DJ helped support her other side. Aspen wasn’t sure who grabbed their bags, but they went to the medical tent that wasn’t, thankfully, all that far away, and she was placed on a table where she lay down. The trainer used a dry towel to clear the sand off of her calf and foot while DJ stood off to the side, drinking something to replenish her fluids. She passed Aspen a bottle, and Aspen took a long gulp while the trainer looked her over.

“Where are you feeling the most pain?”

“It’s a solid ache, and it’s just all over.”

The trainer moved his hands up the back of her foot, focusing on her Achilles tendon, and Aspen prayed silently, which she never did, that it wasn’t that. If there was a tear, she’d likely be done for the rest of the year, even if it was a small one.

“Anything here?” he asked.

She focused on where the pain was coming from and replied, “No, nothing there. Just all over. Well, mostly on the outside, I guess, if I had to pin it down.” She turned to DJ. “Can you find my phone and text my parents? They were going to watch, so I want them to know that I’m okay.”

“Are you?” DJ asked.

“Well, I’m not dead, DJ. So, maybe just tell them that,” she only half-joked.

“I’ll text them that you’re being examined right now but that you’re still a bitch, so you’re probably okay.”

“Sure. That works,” she said, not feeling like laughing at DJ’s joke.

“We should get you to the hospital for scans and X-rays. You said you didn’t feel anything tear or snap?”

“No,” Aspen replied. “I rolled it in the first match, but I followed the instructions. Ice. Anti-inflammatories. Stay off it. I felt okay in my last two matches. A little soreness, but not swelling, and I was fine.”

“Let’s get her to the hospital to check it out,” he said to another trainer. “We’re going to take you in an ambulance because that’ll be faster, but don’t freak out, okay?”

“Don’t freak out?” Aspen asked. “I can walk. Why do we need to go in an ambulance? It’s not like I got hit hard in the head or something. Just drive me there in a normal car.”

“I texted your parents that you’re okay, being checked out right now, and that you’ll call them later,” DJ shared. “Also, Kendra.”

“What?” Aspen asked. “You texted Kendra?”

“No, she texted you. And she called, too. It must have gone to voicemail.”

“Shit,” Aspen muttered. “They want to take me in an ambulance, DJ.”

“Yeah, because it’s faster.”

“She can’t see that,” Aspen insisted. “Phone.” She held out her hand.

Aspen was trying to keep it together herself because if they did find something, she risked both her career and DJ’s, which made it worse, but there was a US TV network here, so if Kendra still had the stream going on her computer and they decided to show Aspen in an ambulance heading toward a hospital because it would make for better ratings or some other stupid reason, she needed Kendra to know that she was fine.

“Aspen?” Kendra said, sounding worried.

“Hey, I’m okay. It’s just my ankle. Nothing snapped or anything.”

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