Page 12 of Unraveling Rain
“So if you’re going to let this injury be the thing dictating when you retire, then you’re not as strong as I thought you were.”
I exhale slowly, overwhelmed by his words. Coach has never handed out compliments lightly, so I know he means it.
And he’s right.
Now I just need to get my brain to agree with him.
“That’s why I’m heading to a therapy center in the mountains.”
Coach raises his eyebrows as a smile spreads across his face.
“Nowthat’swhat I like to hear. Tell me everything,” he says excitedly, returning to his chair.
I launch into the details, telling him everything I know about Serene Lookout. He's as pleasantly surprised as I was when I learned their on-site physician is Dr. Manny Gutierrez. The guy used to be the team doctor for the Miami basketball team.
I’m not sure how Ruin Bianchi convinced him to move to the mountains of North Carolina, but I’m excited to work with him. I know my recovery will be top-notch.
After saying goodbye to Coach, I head to the gym to see if any of my teammates are around. I’d like to tell them about my plans before heading to Azalea Creek.
“Hey, there he is. He’s finally back,” Cody, the team goalie, calls out as I walk in.
I smile and nod in greeting.
“I just came to say goodbye.”
He immediately stops the treadmilland hops off.
“What? What do you mean? You’re leaving?” he asks as a few other players join us.
“I’m shitting you. I’m headed to a rehab facility,” I say, flashing a shit-eating grin.
“Fucker. I thought you were leaving us,” Cody says, punching my shoulder.
I wince.
“Shit. Sorry, Xander. I forgot that was the injured one.”
“I’m not retiring yet. We have to win that damn Cup,” I say, rubbing the spot he hit.
“I’m going to a place where they help professional athletes recover. I hope to be back in time for preseason,” I add, excited about the future.
“Fuck yes. That’s what I like to hear, brother,” Matt says, stepping up to fist-bump me. “So, when are you leaving?
“I just came to speak with Coach before heading there. I’m on my way now.”
“You’re telling me the place is here in North Carolina?” Nico, one of my linemates, asks.
“Yeah, it’s in a small town near Asheville.”
“Cool. Let me know if there are pretty girls who need a good shoulder to cry on,” Nico adds.
I chuckle and shake my head. “I’ll keep you posted,” I say and head out of the gym.
That impromptu meeting was exactly what I needed to lift my spirits and remember that my teammates always have my back.
The drive to Azalea Creek was hectic as hell.
Taking I-40 during lunch rush was a mistake—it’s always busy, but today it felt like I was crawling at a snail’s pace.
