Thursday.
"Is at least mom coming?" I asked, feeling more than disappointed as my dad got prepped for surgery, myself in my full soccer uniform, preparing for a game I had in about an hour.
"She says she'll be there and she'll bring you back to me, if anything happens- you call Michael, he should be out of surgery by the time your game it over." He spoke.
"Okay" I spoke to him.
"Please don't be mad at me, I'm sorry I'm missing another game- I swear I'll be at the next one. Make sure your stretch, drink lots of water and remember to breathe in through your nose- out through the mouth, and I'm proud of you- win or lose." He spoke sternly, kissing my forehead firmly, keeping his sanitized hands away from me, myself helping him put his mask over his mouth and nose.
"Thanks beautiful, go play your little heart out!" He spoke loudly, a smile visible through the mask before he sent me a wink, walking into the OR, making me walk out of the scrub room.
"Ready to go?" Ashton spoke as soon as I saw him, making me nod.
He drove me to the field, planning to drop me off and go right back to the hospital for his own surgery.
"You're quiet" he spoke, nudging my leg lightly with his hand as I looked out the window.
"Thinking" I mumbled to him.
"About?" He asked.
I shrugged
"Divorce" I spoke simply.
"Struggling with it?" He asked me.
"No" I lied straight to him.
"They're happier and I understand that." I spoke to him.
"But are you still happy?" He asked me.
"When I'm with you guys, yes" I spoke.
"So moms house isn't so good?" He asked.
I bounced my knee, trying to figure out how to backtrack from that.
"She's just- going through a lot of emotions right now- not a lot of time for the same mother daughter bonding that we used to have." I told him, watching him nod.
"It'll get better, she's just adjusting- just like you are."
He dropped me off at the field, myself receiving multiple hugs and forehead kisses from him before I was able to get out of the car.
I went into our locker room, braiding my hair and starting our stretches.
Soon the whole team was on the field with the competing team- the game intense, but nothing we've never came across.
Just as we were tied- I got the ball, I felt a rush of adrenaline as I ran with it- kicking it ahead of me, focusing on the goal.
Just as I went to kick it, I felt a firm kick to the front of the ankle with all of my weight on it- making me instantly collapse- the girl from the other team stealing the ball- no one even noticing that she kicked the fuck out of me.
I clutched my ankle in my hands, watching as my team surrounded
"Did you just trip over your own feet- you have them a point, Skylar!" Our captain yelled.
"No, that bitch kicked me-" "ladies" my coach spoke, crouching to my height, making me move my hands away from my ankle.
"You rolled it- you're out for tonight." He spoke firmly.
"Are you fucking-" "language- I want fifteen sit-ups when we get into the field house, but yes- I'm serious, benched." He spoke firmly.
Everyone was pissed, including myself.
He helped me off the field, myself sitting on the bench and almost watching my ankle swell.
Once the game was over, I went to the field house, doing my fifteen sit-ups before getting my bag and listening to his lecture.
"We've gotta get past all of these little mistakes and trip ups girl- we're supposed to be the best and we just lost to a team that's ranked lower than us." He spoke loudly, and I felt all eyes on me.
"With that, you're all dismissed, practice Monday- you guys can have tomorrow off."
I limped, feeling the dull ache in my ankle, but trying to ignore it.
I soon found my mom and her amazing friends.
"Look- little Miss Trip Up!" Brian yelled as I came close, everyone laughing lightly.
"I didn't trip, the girl kicked my ankle-" "I would say that too." Kansas spoke, playing with the ends of her hair, making me look away- the day getting to me too much, I was on the verge of tears.
"So look, I know I told your dad I'd bring you to him, but it's not my week and we're going to get in line for a club, so I texted Michael to come get you- as soon as he gets out of surgery-" "his surgery could go on for hours." I spoke quickly.
"You'll be fine, the coach will stay here until he comes to get you, I love you- see you Saturday night" she spoke, kissing my cheek before getting into the car with them- leaving me standing in tears.
I put a hoodie on, sitting in the damp grass, trying not to think of everything negative that happened just today.
I waited on a text back from any of the guys, praying one of them would finish surgery soon.
"Hemmings" I soon heard someone yell out, making me glance around the area.
I soon saw a guy approaching me, but I didn't move.
"Skylar Hemmings, right?" He spoke.
"Yeah?" I questioned slowly, looking up to the tall individual.
"Hi, I'm Harry- one of Michael's friends, he called and asked that I came to get you and bring you home until the guys can get home." He spoke.
"So you just want me to go with you without proof?" I asked him.
"He told me you wouldn't want to come" he spoke, pulling his phone out, going straight to text messages from the same phone number as Michael's, and I saw that there was pervious text messages, so I trusted the stranger.
I prayed that he would ignore my limping as I let him lead me to his car, himself opening the door for me.
"What is up with the limping?" He asked me, making me close my eyes tightly
"I really don't want to talk about it"
