by Kelsie Spits
“Mr. Tolliver.”, My name was Jason Tolliver and she cut through every syllable in my surname succinctly like bread. “I’m Dr. Pierce. I’m with Mr. McCarthy here. I’ll be examining you and checking up on you over the next few days— “,
“How many?” I shot at her. She paused and quirked her lips.
“Excuse me?”
“How many days? Are you gonna determine if I get to be drafted this year?”
“Mr. Tolliver that depends on your injury. Mr. McCarthy here tells me you’re a brilliant player. I’m sure without this little hindrance, you would have gotten by.” She said in one breath.
“Yea well. Wouldn’t be too sure about that.” McCarthy snarled as his phone rang. “Jason, we've made arrangements. She’s gonna examine you in her office tomorrow. You can’t go anywhere the next few days till I say we're done. Well, not like you would make out of here without crutches.” He winced at my left leg. “I have things to attend to. Feel free to get familiar you two. You'll be seeing a lot of each other the next few days. Dr. Pierce will also be having physiotherapy sessions with you. You will be discharged on the third day, so she may further your physiotherapy sessions at home.” He finally took out his phone, answered the call and stepped out.
I had been paying rapt attention to my agent and as he stepped out I brought my attention back to her only to realize she had been staring at me all this time. Finn cleared his throat and we both darted a glance in his direction. He eyed me and her suspiciously. I wondered if he had seen her watching me queerly.
“I’ve been here since they brought you in last night, Jason. I've gotta run okay but I’ll be back before night today. I also called Dad, so he knows. Who knows, maybe he'll drop by.” Finn sputtered as he rose.
“Yea. I get you.” I nodded, knowing he probably had books and assignments to get back to. “Don’t worry about me. Look, they've got a Tv? Maybe I can watch the highlights of how I got screwed on National Tv yesterday.” I smirked sourly. He gave me that weak smile.
“Look, your stuffs in this bag.” He picked up a black backpack that had been on a vacant chair next to him. “Got your laptop, your phone and magazines. The nurse is gonna bring in some food later so don’t worry. I handled everything.” He patted my shoulder and I felt grateful he supported me and not judge me like our Dad.
“Thanks, man.” I smiled. He nodded, turned to Dr. Pierce, nodded again before leaving.
Now, I was alone with this woman. She casually set the case she had been holding on a small serving table by my bed and took out a chart.
“So, Jason Tolliver.” she walked over to the chair Finn had been occupying. “Let’s run some stuff, over shall we?”
“Okay, whatever.” I grumbled. This injury was nothing. I could be back up in a week. She better tell McCarthy that.
“You’ve been playing football since you were 15. Yes?”,
“Right.”
“Had any similar injuries before?”,
“Nope. They never catch me or get close enough. They called me the wind back then in highschool.” I grinned, reminiscing a few knees I had bashed in myself. Jethro’s was the first.
“Okay? Have any allergies? Or medical complications I should know about?” she quirked a brow. I wondered why she would ask me that. What did that have to do with anything?
“Did McCarthy send you here to dig up dirt on me?” I growled.
“This is pretty standard stuff, Jason.” she sighed like she was bored.
“No. I have never had a complication in my life.” I grated. She jotted something down, brows creased, andI wondered what remark she had given. She looked up again and caught me staring wide eyed.
“Do you get enough sleep?”
“Eight hours a day.”
“How many times a week do you work out?”
“Three hours a day and I’m on the field at least five times a week. I deserve a shot this year.” I groaned, gaping down at my leg.
“You know what I deserve? A week in Hawaii, inhaling the tropics and lying out in the sun. But I can never really get that shot.” She said absent mindedly like she wasn’t referring to me.
“Is that why you're pale?” I snapped and almost regretted it. I had been edgy ever since I woke up.
“Excuse me?” Her furrowed brows deepened.
“You look like you’re not getting enough sun.” I chuckled.
“Well, you look like you won’t make the Tryouts this year.” She flourished a torturing smile and I squirmed uncomfortably.
“Is that what you’re gonna write down there? You gonna write me off?” I glared.
“Maybe you would.”
“You have no right to! I stated the fucking obvious. You’re pale! I didn’t mean no offense by it.” I was breathing heavy.
“I stated the obvious too.” She cocked her head to the side, obviously enjoying my frustration. “Look I’ve seen a lot of guys your age with your attitude, thinking they some big shot that'll make it to the top teams. Do me a favor, answer my questions precisely and shove all that attitude up somewhere.” She began writing something down, not for once looking at me while she scolded.
I bit back a clapback and let myself boil silently. My chances didn’t look good with this leg and insulting this woman would only make it worse.
The next moment followed in awkward silence and she kept writing down.
“Look, you don’t have to remark on my attitude kay? I’m sorry.” I whined, defeated.
She looked up at me and smiled. “Oh? No, was just writing down a list of stuff I needed to get from Walmart later. I remember things in bits sometimes.” I wanted to smile back and maybe talk about something casual and cool. Something that would convince her that I was a nice person after all.
“You were staring at me weird when you walked in earlier. It creeped me out.” I said absently, hoping to take the conversation in a different direction.
“Maybe I was just looking past you, thinking of some other stuff.” She sighed.
“Not you weren’t. You were looking at me” I grinned at her. “And I’m damn well sure it wasn’t my leg you were looking at.”
“So, what do you think I was thinking?” She reciprocated a faint smile, leaning on her knees with her pen in one hand, ignoring her chart.
“I think you found me attractive. I saw the glint in your eyes. But no worries ma'am, I’m used to it.” I chuckled. She didn’t laugh but that faint smile remained on her face as she watched me intently.
“Hmm. Maybe. Maybe not, Jason Tolliver. I believe I have spent enough time with you. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” She rose from her seat. “Then I can take a look at your knee.”
“Okay, See you, Doc.”
**
Sandy Williams thought he reminded her of Henry, her husband, her soon to be Ex. Jason looked like a younger version of Henry, with buff arms and toned thighs, set abs and crisp cut jet-black hair. It had hurt to see Henry again in another form, after all these years. The man that had whisked her away when she was 16 and plucked her at 18. Then she ran away and almost flunked school for him and followed him round the country in his pickup truck for a year.
She later got married to him and now they were at the brink of divorce. She pulled her mustang into the driveway of a brick and glass duplex in a secluded part of their neighborhood. She had bought this house under their name and now he was fighting her for it. She sat there in the car and simmered for a moment. How had she been so stupid? Falling in love with a wannabe rock star and thinking he would hit big.
She reached to the backseat and grabbed a bag of groceries she had bought before hopping out. Three months before the violent fights, Henry stopped touching her. She suspected something right away. Henry was a sexual creature and could barely do a week without sex. But here he way, sneaking off every night to the guest room to be alone. She had been worried and every time she asked what was wrong, he would say he just needed the space.
Until one night. She had waited up
for him to sneak off and then she crept to the room and slid the door open. There he was, jerking off to another woman on FaceTime. It was so disgusting. The screams tore her throat and the primal anger that followed caused their first fight. He never told her who the other woman was…not until two weeks later…
Now she was standing in front of the door, fumbling through her hand bag for the keys. She found them in her pockets and got in. The house walls were plain, painted a drab grey. It used to be a cheery yellow. Henry’s favorite color but two months after their first fight, after enduring knowing a full month that Henry had been running around spending her money on that same woman, she decided she wanted a divorce and then she decided she wanted the house repainted and all their memories buried away.
Wouldn’t be long till he got this house. Might as well leave her touches on it before he gets it. She carried her load across the hallway to the kitchen and dumped it on the slab. She was tired, but she should put the groceries in their place. She had always done that and everything else in the house while Henry went out on Gigs. She would get mad and wait for him to come home so they could talk but he always had a way of making her shut up, making her respect him.
It had been two months since she had seen him now and their divorce was in two weeks. She flopped down in one of the kitchen chairs and her phone vibrated. She took it out and read the notification. It was a message from her sister. She had other unread messages from friends, co-workers, uncles, aunts and her mother. They all wanted her to work it out. They all wanted her to go back and suck Henry’s dick, overlook his life of leisure and the skank he had been sleeping with. She grimaced as she skimmed through a ton of messages. She wondered how she had ended up being related to all this people that obviously didn’t mean well for her. She selected all the messages and pressed DELETE. Watched gratefully as the A.I complied. She was about to drop it when another message got in. Her breath hitched when she saw his name. Henry.
She instinctively flicked to delete it but paused, curious. What would he have to say after all these months? She opened his message. It read:
“Today was my birthday and I didn’t get shit from you. You must be thinking you've moved on, think you’ll find happiness after me? After all we've been through? You won’t! I’m only still waiting because I love you and I know you won’t forgive yourself if you go through with this. Better call me, Sally pierce. You better call me! I still care about you. Just call me okay? You know you don’t belong with anyone else but me and only me!”
She cringed as she absorbed each word, hearing his nonchalant bass echo in her head as she read. She wanted to gag. He still thought he had a hold on her. He still thought he could give her commands and she would scramble to obey. Just like eight years ago when she first met him out on the pitch, taking a break from training. He still had the football under an arm and that fire in his eyes. He had stood there under the hot sun with his signature smile. He had been toned and ripped in all the right places…Kind of like Jason…Jason, her mind switched films and now she was staring at that hot rod, splayed in the hospital bed.
Sally picked her phone and opened her Facebook. She searched ‘Jason Tolliver'
**
She hadn’t been picking his calls, but he had kept calling anyway. She had been online through out last night and see had sent her a tirade of messages and no so much as a hi back. His brain conjured plausible explanations. Maybe Her data was on and she was busy on other stuff? Maybe she had a bad day; No, you had a bad day. You got humiliated at a college friendly and carted away in a stretcher like roadkill but she never so much as showed up or called to check on you and this is the second day since you have been hospitalized.
I grimaced at the phone. She was online. Again. Finn had called to see if I was okay. I wasn’t. The nurse had put on Tv and I watched my own humiliation last night. It was like watching a nightmare. After that, I had lost appetite and couldn’t get food in.
Now, I was sitting and staring at my Girlfriend’s Facebook profile, squinting at the green dot below her picture, wanting it to disappear so my roiling emotions could calm down.
Then my phone rang in my hand. It was her, Alicia. My chest swelled. I quickly picked.
“Babe? I've been blowing your phone all through last night. I left calls. I left messages. You were online, you were active, I was watching your activity. You were online! But you never called me back, never even—” Beep Beep, she hung up on me. I slowly retracted the phone from my face and stared at like it had performed a miracle.Maybe her cell died, or something came up? I was giving her excuses but there was something heavy sitting at the bottom of my gut, telling me I was lying to myself.
I dialed her number again, staring blankly at my phone as her number rung. She picked it up.
“What happened?” I gaged.
“I hung up obviously?” She retorted, and rage clenched my throat.
“What?” I spat it in dismay, hoping she'd take it back, maybe tell me she was just messing around to lighten my mood.What a stupid excuse.
“Look, Jason. Stop calling me. Stop texting me okay? It’s because you’re this insecure that I’mma have to let you go now. This isn’t working for us.” She said casually like she was reading it off a rehearsal.
“What?” I heard myself nearly shriek.
“Jason, I’m serious. Okay? I’m sorry about your little injury okay but I need you to for once soak it in maturely and let me go.” Those were her words. Her tone was riddled with spite and I could imagine her sitting somewhere with a magazine in her hand, paying more attention to the latest trends than our conversation right now.
“Alicia? I-I don’t understand. What did I—“, Beep Beep. She hung up again and for the moment that followed, I was shaken, totally lost, feeling dejected. Then I got mad, my nose itched and swiped at it hard like I would take it out. My body tensed, and I sat there fuming unable to get up and pace, feeling helpless and so Mad!
“Oh fuck. One week ago, that bitch said she loved me.” I cursed under my breath. “Now it ain’t working out? I don’t understand. I don’t get it.”My body was a whirlpool of emotions and my chest ached, but I wasn’t going to shed tears for a bitch. I had only been dumped once before and from that experience I knew there was only one way to get over a break up really quick. I could get busy. Maybe get to work at the gym or put in time on the garage roof but…I grimaced at my foot and surroundings.
Scratch that. Number Two: I could go to the club and get drunk, fuck somebody else, have a good time…I grimaced at my leg again. I couldn’t go nowhere, and nobody was about to fuck me, exactly not after what had aired on the news the other night. I sunk lower into a pit of pity and disgrace. No going anywhere and No fucking—Unless?
“Jason Tolliver.” A head popped into the room as the door creaked slightly open. I looked up and there she was, staring at me again. Dr. Pierce.
“Hi, Doc.” I chimed with a plastered smile. She reciprocated faintly and stepped in. She was wearing a long pencil skirt that exhibited her slender contours and a sleeveless creamy blouse. She looked hot and I did nothing to hide my lust.
“Jason, you look well.” She strutted till she was standing next to my bed.
“Not too good. I’m still stuck here, wasting another year.” I said limply, feeling resigned. She had a suitcase with her and she set it on the small table by my bed.
“Try staying hopeful. You might still make it to the Tryouts.” She sighed, systematically taking out her chart again. She leaned over slightly and peered at my casted knee.
“The resident Doctor said your patella popped back in place, so you'll be fine with a little therapy and painkillers.” She stated but I was more concerned with her shapely ass. It wasn’t huge, but it had a nice tone to it, like apples.
“Jason.” I snapped back to her when I heard my name. She was looking right at me. She had caught me. The heat rose to my face and I averted my eyes.
“I wasn’t— “, I stopped myself before I co
uld say it. What exactly was I about to say? I wasn’t staring at your ass?
“I know you were—and it’s fine.” She chuckled. I blinked at her. Did I just hear that?
“It’s okay to stare at your ass? I guess that’s fair since I caught you staring first.” I smiled.
“I wasn’t staring at your dick though, was I?” She pursed her lips. I was feeling giddy but in a strange uncomfortable way. This was highly unprofessional from both sides, but we were just going with it.
“What were you staring at then?” I cocked my head.
“You. You reminded me of someone.” She returned her attention to my knee for a moment and then straightened back to full height.
“Hope he’s hot though?”,
“He was.” She flashed an uncanny smile at me, arms folded in front of her.
“Did you just admit that I’m hot?” I tossed my sly smile at her. It always hooked them. She didn’t reply. She moved her hand, stuck out her index finger and started from where the bandage on my knee stopped.
“Do you feel this?” At first, she poked. I felt it. A small stab of pain. Then a slow tortuous trail from where the bandage ended and down my thigh, into a ripped groove and continuing. I watched in a twisted mix of shock and delight. Our eyes connected, and I saw a different light in her eyes. A glint I could not describe. She paused at the hem of my briefs and retracted her finger.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She hissed.
“What?” I blinked.
“Maybe I find you attractive. Can you sit up Mr. Tolliver?” She asked as she reached under the bed for a lever I could not see.