Broken Beautiful Hearts(16)
“The ligament needs time to heal.” Dr. Kao points at my MRI glowing in front of the light box. “You’re lucky the kneecap didn’t shatter.”
Nothing about this situation feels lucky.
“How much time, exactly?” I rake my hands through my hair.
“Four months. But you should be able to resume normal activities in four or five weeks.” Dr. Kao keeps talking, but I’m not listening.
“Four months? That’s almost half the year.” I knew I’d be out for the rest of the fall season, but four months? I do the math. “It’s November now.… I could miss the spring season.”
My high school doesn’t offer spring soccer, so Lucia and I play on a select team that travels all over the country—a team that’s more competitive than the varsity team at Adams. We start playing in March. Even if my knee heals by then, Dr. Kao isn’t going to let me throw on a uniform and run straight onto the field. I’ll probably need more physical therapy, and my select coach will ease me back in slowly.
This isn’t happening.
I stand up too fast and my chair skids backward. I’m not used to the brace, and it throws me off-balance.
Mom catches my arm and steadies me, her hand shaking. “We’ll figure it out. It will be okay, Peyton.”
I sit and slouch in the chair. “I’ll lose my spot at UNC. How is that okay?”
Dr. Kao shifts on her stool.
“You can’t be the first athlete to sustain an injury. They must have protocols for situations like this.” Mom turns to Dr. Kao, her expression hopeful. “Don’t they?”
“I already know how it works. It’s all in the letter.” Which I practically have memorized. “The offer is contingent on how I perform this year and my ability to start for UNC next year. Division One teams can’t afford to take chances on injured players.” My voice cracks.
The office walls are covered with autographed posters and framed thank-you letters from college and pro athletes whose careers Dr. Kao saved.
I look at Dr. Kao. “Is there anything we can do to speed up the process? Anything at all?” Tears roll down my cheeks. “Please. I have to play in the spring.”
“I know this must be hard to hear, Peyton,” Dr. Kao says calmly. “But if you start playing before the PCL heals properly and you sustain another injury on the soccer field, you will end up back on my operating table.”
It didn’t happen on the field.
Mom panics and hammers Dr. Kao with questions about recovery rates and physical therapy. I wish the questions in my head were as simple to answer.
What if I had stayed home instead of going to the party that night? Or if I hadn’t found the box in Reed’s gym bag? What if I had figured out he was doping sooner?
Would I be sitting in this chair right now?
The answers don’t matter, because I’ll never know.
CHAPTER 7
Burning Bridges
MOM KNOCKS ON my bedroom door and pokes her head into my room. “Do you need anything?”
I’m still trying to process the conversation in Dr. Kao’s office. “No. I’m okay.” The words sound ridiculous coming out of my mouth.
Nothing about this situation or the way I feel is okay.
Mom twists her wedding ring on her finger. “Has anyone called?”
She means Tess.
“Not yet.”
The last three weeks have been miserable without my friends, especially Tess. I’ve talked to her on the phone a handful of times, but the calls didn’t involve any real conversation—just meaningless chitchat between awkward silences. I couldn’t mention my knee or share my fears about the surgery and my future without it sounding like an attack on Reed.
Gwen completely bailed on me after she left the ER. Conflict of any kind makes her nervous, but I never asked her to take sides. I guess I’m better off knowing that our friendship wasn’t worth a single phone call.
At least Lucia didn’t ditch me. She still calls and stops by to hang out and drop off my classwork. She’s also the only one of my friends that showed up at the hospital the day of my surgery. Gwen texted me—the only time since the night I was in the ER.
But I expected Tess to be there. We’ve been best friends forever. Some things are bigger than being stuck in the middle between your best friend and your brother.
Friendship is bigger.
She texted me with a lame excuse about having the flu.
Instead of Tess, I got Reed.
According to Lucia, he hung out in the parking lot, hiding from my mom and calling Lucia for updates. He’s playing the heartsick ex-boyfriend with everyone, including me. He texts and calls me constantly—begging me to give him another chance or to meet him somewhere to talk. Like that’s ever happening.
Soon everyone will know the truth about him.
“Do you think they’ll get the test results before the lab closes tonight?” I ask Mom as she rearranges the soccer trophies on my bookshelf.
“They should…” Mom says. “Reed went in this morning.”
Lucia texted to tell me the test was today, but she didn’t know what time. “How do you know the test was in the morning?”
“Reed’s mother told me when she called earlier to inform me what a terrible parent I am.”