Small Town Girl, Big City Dreams • Kate Martin

Chapter 18: The Lore of Klaire

Inspiration Song: Streetcar by Daniel Caesar

"Well, Kate," the doctor said looking at the results of the MRI. "Thankfully, it looks like you just bruised your Achilles tendon. I would suggest icing a few times a day, wrapping it for at least a week, and making sure that you're stretching it often and well. Don't skip out on that part."

I blushed, embarrassed, knowing that was the reason I hurt myself in the first place. "Will do, doc. Do you know how long I can expect to be out for?"

This was the part I was dreading.

"I'd take it easy these next two weeks. No running, jumping, or anything too extreme. Otherwise, if you follow my orders, you should be fine to resume practice as normal when you guys start up after the Olympic break."

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding in, "Thank god."

"Ms. Martin," the doctor makes direct eye contact with me. "This injury should've been a lot worse. You're lucky you're a young athlete. Most of your teammates wouldn't have fared as well as you have."

I nodded, signaling that I understood the weight of my carelessness. "So, you'll tell Becky I'm clear?"

"Yes, I'll tell Coach Hammon that you're clear," he laughed. "Take care of yourself, Kate. You, hopefully, have a lot of years of basketball ahead of you." He finished the wrap he did on my foot and ankle.

"I sure hope so," I said, putting my shoe back on my foot and tying it. I carefully lowered myself off the edge of the medical table. I stepped gingerly onto my heel and walked out the exam room. My foot was definitely still tender, but the wrap helped, allowing me to at least walk on it without collapsing in pain.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend.

"Kate, what'd you find out?" Caitlin answered the phone, leaving out the formalities.

"I'm all good. Just some icing, stretching, and a little extra care. I'll be ready to break your ankles by the time we play you again," I joked, glad to be catching up with her.

"Well, I don't know about that," Cait replied. "You can't even do that 100% healthy."

"Oh really?" I said, laughing. "Need I remind you that I caused you to turn over the ball the first time I guarded you?"

"Shush. I was distracted by your big ass nose."

"Wowwww," I laughed, walking out of the doctor's office. "I was going to tell you good luck tonight, but nevermind. I hope the Wings kick your ass."

"They probably will," Cait responded, nonchalantly. I knew she was having a hard time with her transition to the W. The vets on opposing teams were really hard on her. Her team wasn't gelling, and the spectators always had something negative to say, it seemed. It was like everyone expected her to just walk in and singlehandedly make the Fever a championship level team. While Caitlin was W caliber, I could tell she was in her head. She was really worrying me, if I was being honest. Any time I saw an interview, I could tell she was really struggling. The light she used to always have in her eyes and the love of the game seemed to have disappeared. I hoped that this break would be good for her and give her time to relax. I knew that if she reset and refocused, she could still take this season by storm.

"That's okay," I tried to reassure her. "The Wings are a good team. Sure, they're dealing with injuries, but they know what they're doing."

"I will be kicking Team USA's ass though," she informed me. "I'm going to let them know what they're missing out on."