Personal Trainer

O N E

O N E:

The wind was slapping my face as I ran with the football tucked under my arm. I could hear the stomps of the other players chasing me, but the cheers of the crowd somewhat drowned them out. The Dallas Cowboys wasn't shit, and I'll be damned if I didn't get this touchdown.

Passing the white line, I was tackled. I heard a crunch around my ankle and I screamed in agony, trying to push the other players off of my body. After they got, and everyone saw me rolling around and cuffing my ankle the trainers ran onto field. Alizae wasn't too far behind, rolling here eyes. They tightened the laces on my cleats, putting pressure on my ankle before loosening the shoe and slowly taking it off.

When they put me on the truck, Alizae sat next me and smirked. "You just wanted my attention, huh?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

She slung an ice bag onto my ankle, making me wince and hiss. "I'll kill you if you ever do that again."

She picked the bag up again and slung it on my ankle again, making me yell out. "Stop." I gritted through my teeth.

Alizae been here about two months, and this shit wasn't working not one bit. We argue non-stop, and she's at my house almost everyday. It's like she dictates everything I do. What I eat, how long I sleep, when to use the bathroom. When to use the damn bathroom! Something about clogging up my insides, I have no idea. Trisha just couldn't give me this one thing, and not hire a trainer.

When we got into the building, I laid back onto the table. I took my shoulder pads and jersey, leaving me in my dark blue under armor which was covered in sweat. The doctor came in briefly, took x-Rays, then walked out when he was finished. Me and Alizae were alone. She was into her phone, smiling.

"You look like a horse when you smile." I blurted out, mugging her.

"You are a damn horse with that nappy hair, and long ass tongue you got." She rolled her eyes.

"This long ass tongue will have you pulling on this nappy hair, baby." I winked at, sticking my tongue out. She got up and walked towards the bathroom, sticking her middle finger up. "Let me fuck now then!"

She kept walking. "Oh, you 'bout to change into lace panties you got for daddy, huh?" I yelled after her laughing. I love fucking with the girl though, messing with her head. The doctor came in chuckling, shaking his head.

"Doc, it's just fun and games."

"Anyway, son," he started while looking down at the clipboard in his hands. "It was very close to being broken. It's a sprained ankle. You'll be for a good 6-8 weeks. Not only did you stretch the ligament, but you tore it."

We were in the middle of the season. That's too much time. I might miss playoffs. I can't believe this is happening.

Alizae then walked in, sitting back down in the chair she was previously in. He continued as she got comfortable. "The severity is at a grade 2, so you need to be extremely careful, and be sure to get the proper treatment if you want to return as quickly as possible to your team. You will not walk on this right foot. Do you prefer a wheelchair, crutches or both?"

I scoffed, starting to yell. "The hell I need both for?! Just give me the crutches!"

The thought of being away from a football field for 6-8 weeks was eating me alive in the inside. That's a along ass time, and a lot of games I'd have to sit. What the fuck.

"Excuse his anger, please. He's just upset by all of this." Alizae butted in.

"It's alright, pretty girl. He'll be just fine." He smiled at her.