Page 96 of Moonlighter
“I guess.” Last time I put on Soundgarden, and the rookie claimed he’d never heard “Black Hole Sun” in his short little life.
Kids these days.
Drake fires up some Twenty-One Pilots, which I can live with. And I slide onto the bench for the warmup set. The music is already pumping when I push the bar overhead for the first time.
“So it’s chest day!” the new trainer says, strutting into the room like a muscle-bound peacock. His name is Gino, and he enters bodybuilding competitions when he’s not training hockey players. “Anybody need a spot?”
I sit up after my set. “Drake will need you in about ten minutes. I’m not allowed to spot him on this knee yet.”
“No problem. I’m here for you guys.”
We rotate through some sets, and Gino spots Drake when the weight starts to climb. And when Drake steps out to refill his water bottle, he spots me, too.
“How’s your knee?” he asks between sets.
“It’ll get there. I have daily PT with Chip.”
“No, I meant your other knee. The stiff one.”
“Oh. The same, I guess.”
“You gonna have the surgery?” he asks. “I wouldn’t.”
My first reaction is a grumpy one.Who asked you?But I’m curious anyway. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“If you let them tidy up your meniscus, that’s a big, destabilizing surgery. Guys never really come back from that. Not at the same level.”
He’s not a doctor, I remind myself. “I’ll take that under advisement,” I grunt.
“But there’s a lot we can do to make you more comfortable. You could have some injections in the right knee and play like a champ just as soon as your left knee is ready.”
Now he’s got my attention. “What kind of injections?”
“Hyaluronic acid. Or corticosteroids. I know a doctor you can see for that. He trains at my gym. He can take care of your pain, and the swelling, too. You could finish the season.”
“What’s his name?” I hear myself asking. Nobody mentioned this option to me, and now I wonder why.
“Ivanov. I have his card in my locker.”
“Yeah, okay. Do that.” A little research wouldn’t hurt, right?
Drake comes back. “Ready to switch it up?”
“Sure. Leverage decline press?”
“Let’s go!” the youngster says. Then he shakes his hips. “This is the music, geezer. This right here.”
I squirt him with my water bottle, and he lets out a howl. “That’s for calling me a geezer.”
To think that I get paid for this job. It’s like summer camp every day.
When five o’clock comes,I shower and then check my phone. The screen lights up with texts from teammates who are trying to decide between poker and clubbing. I don’t feel like weighing in, because I haven’t decided if I’m going out.
First, I’ll need to call Alex to see how she’s holding up.
But just as I’m putting my gym shoes back into my locker, the phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognize. But there’s an icon of a skeleton key beside it, meaning that the call is coming from someone inside The Company.
I answer immediately. “Hello?”
