Rules Of Different Games

Chapter 17- One could only hope

Devan Taylor

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Dru's small apartment was indicative of her personality. Bland and comfortable. Fancy, but homey. I liked it. But as the door slammed behind Ruthie, I didn't like the feeling of being mistrusted. And that's what happened. Ruthie didn't understand this, and then again, I didn't really either.

Dru flung herself onto the couch next to me, looking as deflated and covered in melancholy as much as my soul was. She smirked at me with a bitter face.

"She thinks we don't want her." Dru stated, putting her head in my lap, pushing her long legs over the arm of the couch.

"Well, she's wrong. I've wanted her from the first moment I saw her." I whispered, throwing my head against the back of the soft couch for the cat to eat my hair.

"I've wanted her my whole life." Dru complained, smashing her forehead against my hip bone.

"We have to figure out a way to explain we just -"

"Want to do what Miranda suggested?" Dru said. She sat up, looking me in the eyes. Her green eyes looked like emeralds to me.

"Yes, that. We need to explain it somehow. Without making her feel slighted. But I think we need clear minds for that. Maybe we should sleep."

For a second, she looked sad, but then she smiled. "Alright. Want to cuddle with me or sleep in the guest room?"

"Cuddle. My ex is at home with her new lady, and my lady love just abandoned me. Cuddling sounds good. Maybe we can come up with a plan." I told her, taking her hand, following her into her room.

I didn't think it was strange when we both got down to our boxer briefs and got into bed without sports bras on like we'd done this a million times. All of it felt nice and content, really. Peaceful in a way, I didn't know cuddling with someone could be. And it was nice that she made me the little spoon. Most of the girls I was with were the little spoon, and I was the masc who always filtered in the back. But not with Dru. Dru was all masculine wrapped up in a beautiful shell, and I was alright with that.

I was alright with Dru. The rest we'd work out later.

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Tuesdays were the hardest practice day of the week. Coach made us run 6 miles this morning before reeling us inside the cold rink to change into our gear and have one hell of a practice game. My wrist was feeling somewhat better, but I wore the bracelet for practice just in case someone got handsy with me and because my shoulder throbbed everytime I fucking moved. I didn't want to tell anyone, but in reality my arm was fucked up.

My team won with a few penalties and a few body slams, but I was good to go after a few deep breaths. The thing was, the coach wasn't happy with my x-rays of my wrist from this morning before team warm ups. He had to call the doctor and told me not to get slammed during practice. I listened and so did the other teammates. After practice he called me into his office and sat me down with the team's doctor.

"Taylor, I don't know how to say this, but I don't think you should play hockey for a while." The doctor started to say. "Or maybe, ever again."

"The fuck? Because of my wrist? It's just a fracture." I was dumbfounded.

"Uh, see, that's why I'm here." He started taking out the x-rays of my wrist to show me the file.

"It's not just a fracture. Your entire arm, including your shoulder was affected. The strain on your arm is so severe that one wrong move could affect your spine and then you'd be a real liability. In your daily life it may never affect you. But hockey is an aggressive sport and any wrong move and you could be paralyzed. You want to continue walking right?" The doctor smiled like he said this shit to people every day of his pathetic existence not caring who he broke in the process. He was a sadist I think.

"It's a wrist fracture." I yelled, feeling like someone was ripping my heart out.

"Listen, the doc says we can sideline you until we can get a second and third opinion. But I'm not into letting injured birds break their wings even further. And neither is the league. If it's a medical reason you still get your pay out. And you will be first in line for a coaches gig. But you can't play with the impending doom of a broken spine, girl. That's just not what is right." My coach shook his head like there was nothing he could do.

I left his office feeling like an idiot. A fractured wrist could lead to a broken back? It just didn't make sense. But after three more doctors appointments with sports specialists and a few thousand more x-rays I'd been shown the proof. And now I could feel my shoulder ripping every time I rolled my arm.

My career was over.

That Friday it was announced that my league had been drafting girls all week. I did a few press releases announcing my early retirement due to injury and the first person to call me was Ruthie. I was alone at my lonely apartment at the time crying into a bottle of whiskey.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Are you alright?" She asked, I loved that about her. She was pissed at me about Dru, but still willing to ask if I was okay. She loved me whether she wanted to admit it or not.

"No. My career is over, Ru. Over a sprained wrist and a bum shoulder at 24. The fuck?" I wailed, sipping my whiskey.

"I know. I wish I could be sad. But you know what?"

"No, what?"

"Now you'll have time for the life you're supposed to lead. You can have girlfriends and play StarLark everyday now. And you can even start coaching which is what you wanted to do in the long run anyway. You already have your degree. Now, You can use it." I did have a degree in sports medicine. She was right. But damn if I didn't want more.

"You're right, but this is a big blow."

"I know. I'm just trying to be optimistic here. Can't blame a girl for trying. Hey, tomorrow is Miranda's birthday. You should come to town."

"Yeah? Are you done being mad at me?"

She sighed on the other line. I wish I could see her blush and frazzled hair. "No, but I don't believe in letting anger stop you from being with your loved ones. If I did I'd never see G-G and she's my favorite." I laughed, the doorbell rang making me jump.

"Oh, was that the doorbell? Open the door. I sent you a gift. Don't say I never gave you anything." She chided, hanging up the phone on her end. I smiled, putting the phone away to answer the door.

I opened it expecting a food delivery or something. I smiled with a low chuckle. Dru and Elli were standing there with a bag of Chinese food and a bottle of whiskey. Ellie hugged me and walked in. Dru hugged me, kissing my cheek.

"I'm sorry, Taylor."

"Yeah, me too, man."

It was the best gift anyone had ever sent me. Other athletes definitely understood my predicament and neither of them honed in on my pain or injury even though my arm was in a sling and my eye was bright blue. They just played StarLark with me as we ate our food and drank the night away.

It was sort of peaceful in an odd homey way and I figured I better get used to it because this was going to be the new normal now. Or my new normal. Fuck. How quickly things change is like how fast day drifts into night and all of us stupid humans are just here for that ride day in and day out.

But the world did seem less daunting than it had 24 hours earlier when I was crying alone sad that Shayna wouldn't be my agent anymore. Sad that my Co captain was now alone. Sad that my arm had taken my game from me. And I was angry at the bitch who slammed me against the fucking wall at the last game. But now I was calmer and my insides started to just mesh into their places with every laugh Dru gave me.

Maybe someday soon things will even out for all of us. One could only hope.