Page 119 of Off Pitch

The security guard scoffs. “You and everyone else. You have no reason to be here. Unless you’re staff or have a medical emergency, you’re not getting through.”

“Excuse me,” I say, slightly offended. “I’m not just a random fan. I’m Harlow Pierce.”

“And?” he says, giving me a dismissive look.

“And I’m-” I start before the doors behind the security guard open, and Lucia walks through.

“There you are, Harlow! Come with me—I’ll take you back.” Lucia grabs my hand to lead me through before the security guard stops her.

“You can’t just take her back there,” he says. “Fans aren’t allowed back.”

“She’s not just a fan,” Lucia says, clearly annoyed. “This is Harlow Pierce, Knox Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“I was trying to tell you that,” I add softly.

“I need to verify that first,” he says gruffly.

“Fine,” Lucia replies as she takes out her phone. “Watch me as I Google ‘Knox Spencer and girlfriend’ so you can see all the articles about them.”

Lucia hits search, and article after article about us appears on her screen, showing my face on every one of them. The security guard finally relents. “Alright, go on then.”

“Thank you,” I say quickly as Lucia leads me through the doors.

Lucia walks me through the halls of the emergency room until we stop right outside room eighteen. There’s another security guard posted by the doors.

“Hi,” Lucia says to the man. “This is Harlow, Knox’s girlfriend. Your colleague has already verified that.”

“Very well,” he says, stepping aside to let us through.

We walk into the room, and I see him lying on the bed in a hospital gown. “Hey, Knox,” I say weakly, but it’s enough to grab his attention. “How’s your leg doing?”

“Freckles!” he says loudly with a bright smile. “I was hoping you’d come!”

“Um, yeah… here I am,” I say warily before turning to Lucia. “Is he okay?”

She laughs. “He’s hopped up on Morphine. He’s a bit loopy right now.”

“Morphine?” I say questioningly. “Morphine is a banned substance.”

“Babe, he’s not playing for at least a few weeks. Based on the on-field evaluation, he’s got either a grade two or grade four strain. He’s going to need time to recover. They’re alreadytalking about moving him to the 15-day IL. That Morphine won’t even be in his system by the time he’s back.”

“Oh.”

Shit. He’s actually going to miss time from this. An injury he sustained likely because his focus wasn’t on the game but onme.

“Lo,” Lucia says, putting an arm around my shoulder and leaning closer. “Don’t blame yourself for this. I know you, and I know how you’re going to internalize this. Sure, this could have happened because he was distracted, but that’s on him, not you. He’s a professional; he needs to be able to separate his personal life from his professional one.”

I take a deep breath. I know she’s right. It’ll be easier said than done, but I can at least help him in the meantime.

I walk over and sit on the edge of Knox’s bed, and he smiles at me softly. “How are you feeling, Slick?”

“I don’t feel much right now,” he says. “They gave me some of the good medicine.” That pulls a laugh from me, and he smiles brighter now. “Hey, I got you to laugh again.”

I smile softly. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

“Maybe I didn’t fuck everything up completely.” He reaches his hand down and places it on top of mine. “I’ve missed you, Harlow. The past few days have been awful.”

“So awful you forgot how to throw a good pitch?”

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