[Complete] Ariel and the Bandits

22 - Stories Over Tea

My leg anxiously shakes as I dribble my foot against the ground. The receptionist offers me the option of going down to the cafeteria for coffee or maybe tea to calm my nerves. All I want is answers I'm not sure I'm ready to hear yet.

Because I know that Ariel was in the men's locker room shower standing like a flamingo to keep the weight off her injured leg. A leg she injured tonight out on an NFL stadium as she pretended to be her brother.

Now what in the She's the Man hell is this?

But She's the Man had lower stakes. They were high school kids. If a girl played American football in high school, nowadays it'd be deemed cool and acceptable-- progressive even. If a girl played in college, she might make front news in the campus newspaper. She'd be a badass and proves she doesn't need to be one of the guys because her girlfriends are a great support system, and she probably benches more than most of her teammates anyway. But the NFL? They would never have it-- neither the industry nor the fans. Maybe they'd let women be field goal kickers or punt returners-- something they think women could "handle" without getting them too involved in the game just to say-- SEE? We are progressive.

What a bunch of numbnuts.

"Mr. Park?" A nurse calls out. I get lightheaded from standing up too fast. "You can see her now. The doctor's just finishing up with her."

I walk over to the door and lean against the doorframe. "Give it to me straight, doc."

"Oliver Park. I'm Dr. Hong," she addresses. She points at my baseball cap with her pen. "I didn't take you as a Dodgers fan."

Ariel's eyes are on me, but I don't have it in me to look at her. "It was my grandfather's. He gave it to me before I came out here for college." I take a deep breath. "So, is she going to be okay?"

"We have run some scans. Fortunately, your girlfriend here has no bone fractures. She does have a partial tear in her ligaments."

Uriel rushes past us and embraces Ariel. "Oh my god, you were this close to giving me a heart attack."

I gesture to Dr. Hong to step out into the hallway with me. "How long will it take for her to recover?"

"Roughly three to six weeks," Dr. Hong responds.

"I'll take care of the bill. Just uh, don't tell her. She tends to be prideful with that kind of stuff. She hardly ever lets me spoil her." I offer my hand to Dr. Hong to shake. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Hong. I've got to get going, but I know she's in good hands."

My smile feels corrupted. My lips contort into an awkward tight-lipped smile, but my cheeks don't compromise. I look into the room. Uriel and Ariel are waiting for me to step back inside. Instead, I continue my way down the hall toward the exit.

"Oliver," Uriel calls out. "Please let us explain."

I stop in my tracks. "Explain what?" I turn to look at Uriel. "How you two have schemed against an entire industry made up of oppressive rich white men who are what we mean when we say 'eat the rich'? Because I applaud you, I do. But I can't deal with your repercussions as a result of doing that. Not right now.

"So call Coach Beau and tell him that you've got a moderately sprained ankle, and you'll check in with a team physician in five weeks," I sigh. "I don't want to see either one of you near a football stadium, field, or player until then."

"So that's it? You're just going to abandon her-- leave her here alone?"

"I'm not abandoning her," I grit my teeth. It's hard not to want to knock some kind of sense into him. "And she's not alone, is she? Aren't you here?"