"Bus call for the game is 3pm, outside the teams hotel. If you made other accommodations for yourself make sure to be there on time!" Coach calls as the group finishes walkthroughs, "JP, ice that shoulder tonight!"
"I will." Jo sighs, motioning over her shoulder that she heard her as she requests an Uber.
"Actually go have them wrap it in some ice now, and then ice again before bed. I want you to rest your arm tonight."
"I'm not planning on a push-up competition." She chuckles, "My arm will be fine."
"Trainer now, or no play time tomorrow. I'm contemplating taking you off the bench already." Coach points across the court towards the locker room.
Sighing, Jo turns, heading towards the office, knowing she doesn't want to come off the bench in the game tomorrow. Michael is coming, she has to be playing her full game, and she definitely doesn't want to hear it from her dad if she isn't in the starting lineup.
Twenty minutes later she exits Barclay Center, meeting her Uber with an ice pack strapped to her back. It's not exactly how she wanted to meet Michael's friends, looking like an injured athlete, but if it's what it takes to play tomorrow she will. She's grateful when her Uber driver isn't overly talkative, and especially when he doesn't ask about the ice, not in the mood to explain.
She digs carefully through her purse as the car arrives outside Pier 17, finding the badge Michael had given her this morning that will let her backstage, slipping it over her head quickly.
"Thank you." She comments to the driver before pushing out of the car, huffing slightly at the way her left arm is immobilized as she moves, it makes everything feel slightly more awkward. Her eyes lift as she hears chatter, realizing she's been dropped off right by the line of fans waiting for soundcheck, many of them watching her with excited looks in their eyes. Turning towards the building she pulls her phone out, hitting call on Michael's contact.
"Hey, Jo, are you here?" He sounds happy as he answers.
"In the wrong place though I think." She laughs, "I got dropped off by the soundcheck line."
"Oh, ya. Go up to the box office and ask them to direct you to the talent door, you have your pass right?"
"Ya."
"Good. They'll direct you to the right place and I'll come find you there." Michael answers.
"Okay, I'll see you in a minute."
"Headed to meet you now." Michael replies before the call drops.
Jo makes her way to the box office window before being directed quickly to a door on the side of the building where a security guy lets her in after seeing her badge.
"Jo!" She turns once in the hallway, grinning when she catches sight of Michael walking quickly towards her.
"Michael Gordon Clifford groupie, party of one, reporting for duty." She smiles, meeting him halfway down the hall.
"I like the sound of that." He chuckles, frowning suddenly as he notices the plastic wrapped around her torso, holding the ice to her shoulder still. "Are you hurt?" He asks, gently spinning her to assess the total picture.
"My shoulder's been tight for a few weeks, coach is being precautionary with the ice." She waves off his concern, "She said if I didn't ice I wouldn't be allowed to start tomorrow."
"Are you sure it's not a bigger issue?" He frowns, sliding his hands down her arms to link with hers.
"I'm an athlete, Michael, tight muscles are normal, I'll be fine." She nods, toeing up to press her lips to his softly.
YOU ARE READING
End Game
Fanfiction"Everything in my life has always been a game, a goal, or a distraction. So which one are you?" "A game." Michael answers confidently. "So the truth comes out..." Her tone quite clearly tells him how hurtful she found his response. "Let me finish...
