Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
* * *
Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
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The month of January passes by with ease, my days filled with more physical therapy, light training sessions, and traveling to different games. Coach is letting me play more and more as my shoulder heals and I get stronger, which is a good thing too because the game we played last night in Wichita had more than a couple scouts present.
I played well, especially considering the time I'd spent unable to practice, and Coach reassured me that everyone who has contact him knows that I am still recovering. But that I will, in fact, make a full recovery. That doesn't stop me from continually needing to ice my shoulder, as the scar from my surgery swells from playing last night.
So, here we are, riding in the team bus back to Boulder with an ice pack wrapped in a damp towel strapped to my shoulder with saran wrap. The saran wrap had been Wyatt's idea, and it worked, the ice cooling the heat in my left shoulder as we race down Diagonal Highway.
"How's it feeling?" Wyatt asks, seated next to me and I shrug.
"Not too bad now actually," I say honestly. "I'll go visit Doctor Tanner this afternoon though, maybe I'll do some stretches or something."
"Good," he says. "I won't like it if you don't take care of that injury dude, you're so close now, you can't pull the same shit you did when you first injured it."
I nod, knowing he's right. When I'd torn my rotator cuff junior year, I kept practicing and training until it was a more serious injury. Part of me wonders if that's why it broke so easily when I fell on it a couple months ago.
"Jourdan's on me about that shit too," I reassure him. "She makes me do my stretching exercises whenever she's with me in the morning."
"She's good for you," Wyatt grins at me as I turn my head slightly, glancing to him. "Seriously, you're a good kind of different now that you two figured your shit out."
I smile, thinking of Jourdan and also how much I'd missed her while we were at this game. True, it was only a couple days, and we were either texting or on facetime together when needed, but that didn't change how much I wanted her with me.
"Yeah, if it weren't for her, I might've beat the shit out of you," I joke. "It's still fucking weird, but I can stomach the idea of you and Rory a bit more these days."
"You know—" A look of regret washes over his face. "I mean, fuck, we've discussed this. But I meant it when I told you what I feel for Aurora is different too."
"Ugh," I groan, turning to look out the window now at the sun rising slowly behind the rolling hills to the left of the highway. "I know that bro, she's just my sister. I can't really talk about that shit with you."
"I get that," he laughs humorlessly. Silence echoing between us now, it's not so much awkward as it is tense. He knows that fucking my sister behind my back was a breach of trust from my point of view. Whether or not they couldn't help themselves is not something I want to think about. But, I know, thanks to Jourdan, that one day I'll probably get over it.
