I jogged over to the start area, and the girls all followed me. “All right, three, two, one, go!” I counted down.
I took off at a steady run and heard the footsteps of the girls pounding the floor close behind me. I started off pretty good; my mind was off Eryn. Well, it kind of was. After all, she was just a few paces behind me, and her presence was almost impossible to ignore.
But I was focused on the run, focused on my breathing and the way my muscles were working, and I was focused on the rhythm of the pace. It was hard to have scrambled thoughts when you were working out with intensity. I started pushing myself harder as the sound of one girl grew closer, getting right up behind me as if she was preparing to pass me. I felt a pleasant burn in my muscles as I pushed myself harder – but then, I wondered if the girl who had pushed until she was behind me was Eryn.
Dammit! Why was this so hard to shove to the back of my mind?
I pushed myself harder, surging forward and breathing hard as I began to out-pace whatever member of my team had caught up to me. I managed to get into a solid rhythm and began surging on ahead. Thoughts of Eryn were starting to fade from my mind as I focused on my rhythm and pacing and how my muscles and lungs were working in tandem.
I grinned to myself as I passed the door once more to mark the first lap down, and began to think that perhaps I should've made this run longer. It was a bit of a relief to be so intensely focused on the run that my mind was clear. I didn't want it to stop.
It did, though – and far more quickly and abruptly than I had imagined it would.
A loud thud sounded followed by shouts from behind me. Several of the girls were calling out, but Leena was the loudest, calling out my name. “Wade! Wade, come quickly!”
I slowed down and turned around, and saw that all the girls had gathered around someone on the floor. That was never a good sign.
“Coach, hurry up!” Leena shouted again.
I jogged quickly over to where they were. The circle of players parted to make a path to the player on the floor. The last person I’d wanted to see was revealed: it had been Eryn who had taken a fall.
“Oh shit,” I muttered under my breath.
I quickly moved the other girls out of the way. Eryn was lying on the ground, gripping her right ankle, her face was twisted with pain.
“What the hell happened here?” I asked.
“I...I tripped,” she stammered, looking around. Something about it seemed like she wasn't telling me something.
“Are you all right?” I questioned her, trying to examine the ankle she was holding.
“I’m going to have to go with not really. My ankle hurts like hell.”
I glanced up and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tammy and Kelly stifling amusement. Something definitely wasn't right here.
“Leena, lead the rest of the girls around the court to finish up those laps, and then do some serving drills. I'm gonna get Eryn over to the nurse's station to get this ankle checked out. I'll be back in 20 minutes or so.”
Leena nodded to me and gave a reassuring look to Eryn. “Come on, girls,” Leena called to the rest of the team, “you heard the coach. We have to keep running.”
They murmured words of sympathy and encouragement to Eryn before they all carried on running. I looked down at her and sighed, my face wearing an expression of worry.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
“I can try.”
“Here, let me help you up.”
I reached down and positioned one arm around her as she wrapped one arm over my shoulder for support. I couldn't deny that it felt amazing to touch her again, even though it was under these circumstances.
She tried to walk on the foot and was able to get along by limping, but she was relying heavily on the support she was getting from me. The last thing I wanted was to take a chance she might injure her ankle further, so I insisted on carrying her, instead.
She didn’t seem to be too keen on the idea, but she didn’t put up too much of a fight, either. She did make me wait until we got into the hallway, though, so none of the team would get the wrong idea, as she put it.
My heart raced a little having her in my arms and close to me. I wanted to kiss her again and tell her it was going to be okay. Instead, I fought the urge and focused on the situation from a coach’s point of view. “All right,” I said as we headed down the hallway, “now you can tell me what really happened back there.”
“Not so sure I want to say,” she admitted.
“Why’s that?”