Fake It Till You Make It || Tom Wilson

Chapter 4 - Make it Public

Wilson's POV
"Oh. It was awful, Osh. I didn't know that it was actually possible to shop till you drop," I mutter as I put on my game jersey over top of my gear. Oshie laughs.

"I told you it would happen, Willy. Do you still have any money left?"

"Barely," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Well, you promised her that she could get whatever she wanted, and that's exactly what she did. Got anything and everything her little heart desired," Oshie explains, poking me in the chest. I sigh.

"That's very comforting. Can we just go warm up for the game please," I say, shoving Oshie out of my way.

Kasey's POV
I stand in the home team's box with the Caps' coach, watching the guys practice for tonight's game. Tonight, we're up against the Boston Bruins.

I'm wearing navy blue leggings and my Washington Capitals trainer jacket. The leggings are actually from my shopping spree yesterday. So are my skates. I got new ones and I like them a lot more than my old ones.

As the game starts, we stand for the National anthem. Once the girl singing the anthem finishes, it is time for the puck drop. The referee drops the puck between the two players in the center and the game begins.

The Capitals are doing great. We're halfway through the game and the score is already 2 - 0, Caps winning. There have been no fights and no injuries thus far. But, I speak too soon.

I hear the sound of a player getting shoved into the boards. A player on our team falls to the ground hard, landing awkwardly on their right knee. The ref shoves the Bruins player out of the way and our player is laying on the ice.

I skate over and see that it's Tom laying there. I crouch down so I am staring down at his face.

"Are you alright? What hurts?" I ask. It sounds somewhat unprofessional and I also sound stupid because I know exactly where it probably hurts.

"My leg," he mutters. I nod.

"Are you able to get up and skate off the ice?"

"Maybe,"

Tom attempts to stand up on his own, but doesn't get very far. I look over at Oshie and Ovechkin who are not too far away.

"Guys, could I have a little help?" I ask. The two nod and skate over to help Tom up. Tom places his arms on their shoulders and they help carry him off the ice. I follow right behind them.

They carry him into first aid and sit him down on one of the beds.

"Heal up quick, Willy. We need you out there," Oshie says before he and Ovechkin leave.

"Alright. I'm going to need you to remove your skates, socks, and pants so I can take a look at your leg." I say as I pull up a file on the computer to enter in Tom's injury.

"Okay," Tom mutters.

I keep my eyes on the computer while I wait for him to undress. Once he's finished, I turn around and walk over to him.

I get to work, trying to figure out exactly where the injury is. I'm assuming that the injury is in his right leg because that's how he landed. When I get to his knee, I start bending it carefully and I can see Tom's face contorted in pain.

"Looks like I found the source of the pain. I figured it was your knee that hurt considering how you fell when that guy shoved you to the ice," I explain.

"So what's the verdict, doc? Am I gonna live?" Tom asks sarcastically. I roll my eyes.

"Yes. You will certainly live. It's just sprained so you'll need crutches, but you will be able to play again soon with my help."