Save Me, Sinners

p; “Man, you shouldn’t have let that bastard Javier to bait you like this.”

David has no reply to that and just stares daggers at Scott instead.

“It’s just unfortunate. No one is to blame. Boys will be boys,” I can tell that Shauna’s trying to be positive, but the tone of her voice betrays her nervousness.

“I'm just glad you're okay,” I say softly, sitting on a chair on his side.

“Thank you. Finally someone gives a toss about me and not about what the media and the coach will say,” he says sarcastically.

“We all care about you, David, but we have to think about your career too. You heard the coach. If what we fear is true, you might not play again this season,” Scott explains, trying to mollify David.

“Okay let’s not be negative. We still haven’t heard from the doctor,” Shauna interjects.

David for his part is low, engulfed in a cloud of doom and while he may look normal from the outside, I can tell that he’s anything but. I slide my chair closer to him.

“You'll be okay,” I smile. “I'm there for you as a friend if you need me.”

“Thank you, Carrie. That means a lot.” A ghost of a smile comes upon his face but vanishes quickly as the door opens and the doctor enters the spacious hospital room.

“Well doctor…” Shauna asks, a mountain of concern visible on her face.

“I'm afraid I've some good news, and some bad news,” the aged doctor, who has a kind, fatherly face, replies. “The good news is that it's not as bad as we initially thought. Considering the impact your body took, it’s a miracle that there is no meniscus tear, and neither is there any harm to the anterior crucial ligament. There is however a severe grade III injury to the knee ligament and that could take about three to four months to heal, I'm afraid.”

Scott mouths a curse word and Shauna’s head sinks even lower. David’s face remains devoid of any emotions—he just stares into nothingness.

“Still, I recommend that you undergo physiotherapy and then we’ll run some more tests. The picture will be a lot clearer then,” The doctor leaves the room after expressing his sympathies.

“This does not look good, does it?” He finally says in a cold, demoralized voice. My heart melts when I feel the pain in his eyes. Just when he was about to turn it all around, this happens.

“I'm afraid it does not,” Scott speaks up. “Division playoffs are next week. If the Knights win that game, then we’re looking at the final which is a couple of weeks after that. Even if you recover in a month, you'll still have to pass fitness tests from the team doctors before they can consider you ready for action.”

David just shakes his head.

“I had a bad feeling when I heard that Javier was back. Nothing ever goes right when he is in my life. Looks like once again, he won.”

“Maybe his team will lose their playoffs,” Shauna says.

“No, they won’t,” David replies, with a faraway look in his eyes. “He’s here to win and is very motivated to prove that he can do better than me in the league. No one knows him better than I do. He won’t lose.”

“Shit, man! I shouldn’t have left you alone last night. This wouldn’t have happened then,” Scott slaps the arm of his sofa in frustration.

“Shut up, Scott! Now is not the time,” Shauna cautions him.

“When is it time, then, Shauna? This man is hell bent on ruining his career and I should just shut up and be polite?”

“It’s not his fault!” Shauna protests.

“Then whose fault is it, Shauna? The car wasn’t driving itself!”

“Enough!” Shauna shouts.

There’s finally silence in the room when David speaks.

“Bloody hell, you lot are making me feel like a fucking arsemonger.” He gets up, balances himself on the crutches and hastily makes his way out of the room.

“And Scott, you’re fired,” he says before he leaves the room.

Scott gets up to follow him but Shauna holds him back.