Chasing You

42

BRADEN

WARNING: Harsh language is used more frequently in this chapter. Very frequently

My shoulder is throbbing.

I hate physical therapy and I hate this bitch who is doing it.

"Braden," Penny reprimands me. I clench my teeth together and shoot her a glare. Maybe if I glare hard enough at her she will drop dead.

Dead.

A sharp pain slices through my chest. Tyler.

I look away from her and let my shoulder hang by my side. She sighs from beside me and grabs her clipboard to write down more bad shit about me. All she ever does is write down bad shit. I release a breath and check my Apple Watch. I have a minute left of this session.

A minute too fucking long.

"Braden, you are not progressing as well as I would like you to be," she sighs from in front of me. I ignore her comments and focus on the motivational poster on the wall. Everything she is saying is bullshit. In all honesty, I think most things are bullshit nowadays. I think it is bullshit Jordan and Michael have gotten away with injuring me. I think it's bullshit that my brother smoked laced pot and died. And I think physical therapy is bull. Shit.

"If you continue to go down this road you could seriously injure your shoulder. Permanently this time," my physical therapist continues.

Like I said, bullshit.

I don't have a chance of going to the NBA now that I even got injured. I have nothing to fall back on now. What the fuck am I suppose to even do with my major? I don't even know what the hell I would do in business. I've never had to think about it if I am being honest. There is no backup plan.

"Isn't it already permanently damaged?" I ask in a sharp tone. She sighs leaning back in her seat. She is frowning at me in disappointment and she should join the fucking line.

"No it's not. You were fixed by getting the surgery. Will your shoulder hurt from time to time, yes but by doing all this you can get back to where you were," she says. I can tell she is treading lightly.

Waiting for me to blow up.

I don't respond to her looking past her head back at the poster. Some motivational bullshit lies. Penny opens her mouth to say something else but she is cut off by the door opening.

Thank fuck.

"Braden, your ride is here," the receptionist says. My eyebrows furrow. My ride? I drive myself to these appointments especially because I don't want to be a burden for my mom.

"I don't have a ride, I drove here," I respond. The receptionist shrugs closing the door behind her. Penny sighs in front of me.

"Our session is done for the day but please Braden start doing your exercises and wearing your brace," Penny practically pleads. I hop off of the table and grab my brace. "Seriously Braden, if you want any chance of being in the NBA do what I'm telling you."

I shrug her off and walk out of the door. I want to see what all this "ride" bullshit is about. I walk down the hallway and head into the waiting room. Asher fucking Fletcher is standing there reading some random magazine. I actually doubt he is even reading it.

"Am I hallucinating?"

Asher looks up from the magazine with a cocky smirk. He tosses the magazine to the side and grabs his sunglasses from his face.

"Nope, pretty sure I am actually here," he says touching his chest. "Yup I'm here."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your best friend and you need someone right now," he says. I roll my eyes at him and head towards the door. He puts a hand out in front of me. "Really, Braden?"