Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
He sounded wistful when he said, “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“No question. I’m so proud of you, Hal. I hope you’re proud of yourself, too.”
“You know what? I really am. No matter what happens on Monday, whether people love it or hate it or think it’s too costumey, this is the best work I’ve ever done. It makes me happy, and it’s reminded me why I love to do this. I mean, just look at my models.”
He gestured at the group of six who were a few yards away, confidently posing for the photographer. “One of my nineteen-year-olds told me she’s never felt more beautiful. And her girlfriend, who’s normally very shy, is holding her head high and walking with more confidence than I’ve ever seen from her. I can’t even tell you how much that means to me.”
“I totally get it.”
Hal smiled at me. “I know you do. I’m dedicating this collection to you, by the way.”
“Oh wow, I’m flattered. Why are you doing that?”
“Because you opened up my world and let me see things from a fresh perspective. You also came here and helped me and offered me moral support when I needed it most. If I hadn’t been able to take a breath and get out from under all that stress, this collection never would have happened.”
“You’re giving me way too much credit, but thank you.” The photographer called Hal over, so I said, “I know you need to go, but I’ll talk to you this afternoon.”
“For sure. Kit and I are going to work on cleaning out our studio after this, but I should be home by six. Good luck with your rugby match!”
After we ended the call, I grinned at the picture on my home screen. It was a selfie of the two of us, taken when I’d visited him in San Francisco. Then I picked up my gym bag, tucked the phone inside it, and climbed out of my truck.
The summer rugby league was starting up, and we were about to play the first game of the season. I’d been driving into town one night a week for practice. Even without Tank, who was still in the UK, I felt like we were ready for this. My team had been playing together for a long time, and by now, we knew what we were doing.
As I stepped onto the curb, a white BMW pulled up. I stuck a smile on my face and waited for Greg and Craig to get out of the car. This would probably always be a bit awkward, but seeing my ex and my former best friend together didn’t sting anymore.
“Hey, Rock,” Greg called. “You ready for this?”
We were in teammate mode now, which made this even easier. “Hell yeah,” I said. “Let’s do this thing.”
Within the hour, my team was on the field, working up a sweat. It felt great to be out here, surrounded by my friends, working toward a common goal. I’d missed this in the off-season.
We were playing a newly formed, aggressive, and pretty intense team. While their players were younger overall and full of energy, we had a lot more experience. They were fouling a lot, but we just kept running our plays and ended up scoring early on.
Everything was great, until it wasn’t.
At the top of the second half, we started to run a play we used so often it was nicknamed Old Faithful. But about five seconds into it, I took an incredibly hard hit and ended up twisting my body as I went down.
I rolled onto my back and was overcome by a massive jolt of pain. It was so intense that a yell tore from me.
Something was very wrong. I’d never felt anything like this in my life. Was it my leg? My back? I had no idea, and that was terrifying.
I was vaguely aware of the concern on my friends’ faces as they gathered around me. My mind was racing. I couldn’t form a coherent thought or answer their questions.
At some point, paramedics showed up and asked more questions. I still couldn’t answer. I was too focused on trying to breathe through the agony.
One of them gave me a shot. I remembered feeling grateful as I slipped into blackness.
Sometime later, I woke up in a hospital. Greg, Craig, and several more of my teammates were at my bedside, looking extremely worried. One of them announced, “He’s awake.”
Another said, “I’ll go get the doctor.”
I managed to mutter, “What happened?” All of them took turns answering.
“You broke your hip.”
“Your hip socket, specifically. They took x-rays. Do you remember?” I shook my head.
“The doctor says it was totally a freak thing. The chances of a break like that are incredibly slim. You must have landed exactly wrong.”
“We’re so sorry, Rock. Our defense sucked. That big behemoth from the other team never should have been able to slam you like that.”