Chasing You

37

BRADEN

The pain is unbearable.

White, hot, pain shoots down my arm and to my fingertips. When and if I get up, I'm going to kill Michael Burke and Jordan Kappalac. I clutch my shoulder in pain because fuck me does this hurt. I try to move from my position on the floor but I can't. This might actually be the worst pain I have ever experienced before. My eyes are squeezed shut and I am trying my best not to cry or scream or both. I feel and semi-hear someone talking above me but it is like static. I hear yelling and I know someone is next to me but I can't focus on anything but the pain. All of a sudden my ears clear of the static and I finally hear the trainer saying my name.

All I can manage to say is a, "Fuck."

My shoulder is throbbing and I am not even sure it is still there. I recognize Robbie's voice and Sander's screaming as well as the referee blowing the whistle.

Can they shut the hell up?

"Can you move it all?" the athletic trainer asks. She looks a little like Lacey. Fuck, Lacey. I go to move again and I hiss in pain. This time real tears are in my eyes and I let out a groan. The athletic trainer looks concerned as my assistant coach comes into view.

"We need to get him off of the court," he says. I think they should just leave me here because fuck this. My head is spinning and the pain is becoming even worse. I swallow thickly as I slowly sit up. Everything is blurry and my shoulder throbs.

"Okay, can you hold your shoulder like this?" the athletic trainer asks. She crosses her arm across her chest. I try to move my shoulder but it's limp.

Well that's spectacular.

"It's dislocated, we have to put it back into place," the athletic trainer says to my assistant coach, Myles. Dislocated, I've had dislocated my shoulder before and this feels way fucking worse. My assistant coach nods his head before looking back at me. I am trying to get the world to stop fucking going in loops.

"Braden, c'mon. One step at a time." He grabs my free arm while my other dangles by my side. The claps in the arena are deafening. Our assistant coach wraps an arm around my upper back. I get up clenching my jaw so hard. I'm surprised my teeth haven't shattered. The referee is still blowing his damn whistle and it's driving me fucking nuts. The athletic trainer and assistant coach guides me back to the locker rooms. My vision is still blurry and my shoulder is going numb.

We walk back into the locker room and head straight towards first aid. I sit down on the table while the athletic trainer grabs supplies.

"Okay, I have to pop your shoulder back into place," she says. I nod my head, grinding my teeth together. Her name comes back to me, it's Lindsay, and I fucking hate her right now. "Okay I uh-"

"Can you just fucking do it?" I snap at her. Her eyes widen and she quickly pops it back into place. I hiss in pain and just as quickly as she pops it back in, it pops right back out.

"Fuck, that's not good," Coach Myles says. He rubs his jaw looking at me as Lindsay moves my arm to hold my other shoulder. Luckily I am able to do that as she walks away to get a sling.

"We can try again but he has to go to the hospital," Lindsay says. My eyes nearly bug out of my head. Hospital?

"Fuck no. I'll be fine, the game is almost over," I shake my head. I move to get up but Myles grabs my good shoulder and sits me down.

"You sit your ass back down and I'll tell Coach," Myles says, holding a hand up. I shoot him a glare but sit back down. Lindsay comes back over and offers me a small smile. It does nothing to relax my nerves about the game and Lacey. Lacey is probably a ball full of anxiety right now.