Chapter 69

As much as Dan hated for Syn to be right, the pain remained the next morning. He’d done everything he could think of, including taking a hot shower, icing the injury, putting on a healthy dose of icy hot, and finally, taking some pain meds. The final part, while annoying, at least had been a small win on Dan’s side, if you could call it that. After all, Dan hadn’t used Tylenol. His dad, in his military mindset, was a strong believer of taking Motrin and water for all things.

Still, the pain had kept him up, waking him multiple times in the night with discomfort. A part of him, actually felt somewhat relieved to feel it. It reminded him he was still human. And while he hated being in pain, the fact it didn’t just magically disappear overnight, especially if the damage was as intense as Syn said it was, was somewhat comforting. He knew he was making crazy growth with regards to tennis, and everything else thanks to these powers, a part of him felt it was a little too unfair at times.

Of course, by the time classes ended for the day, and his pain meds had worn off, Dan was tired of feeling the pain. His health had improved by about 10 points through the night, and another 5 through the day. At that rate, he’d be healed up in just a few days, and good to go. Syn had informed him if he kept practicing while it was damaged like that, the healing process would slow down, and it would hurt. However, the strange voice promised him, as long as he didn’t do anything reckless, that even now, even with the damage he’d done to his body, he would magically heal up just fine.

Peter wasn’t having any of that. The senior had noticed Dan’s pain immediately following that crazy serve. The senior had also apparently noticed, as much as Dan had been trying to hide it, his discomfort the rest of the game. The senior continued to impress Dan with his observation skills. Skills, Dan knew, played a large role in not just Peter’s life, but also his tennis games. After all, being able to recognize trends, patterns, and tells from your opponents, was a major boon in helping you predict what would come next and prepare for it.

Instead, Peter had told Dan to wait for him outside of the locker room, because he had a different task in mind for the two of them. Which, was where Dan was now, waiting, uncomfortably, for Peter to appear, his eyes consistently glancing towards the courts, feeling a longing well up within him he’d not realized he’d been developing. He wanted to play. He wanted to keep pushing forward. Even though, as it stood, he didn’t even have a racquet, and by all human standards, he should have been out for probably many, many months, if he didn’t have magical healing.

“Sorry to keep ya waiting Danny boy.” Peter’s voice pulled him from his musings, and the Senior was walking casually towards him, shirt untucked and hair unkempt. He was still in his school clothes, but looked all the world one of those carefree, older brother team captain types. No matter how many times Dan saw Peter, he couldn’t help but admire him. That being said, he’d also seen the darker, fearsome side of Peter, and knew the senior could flip that switch almost instantly.

“It’s all good.” Dan said, pushing away from the wall, wincing slightly. He’d not brought any Motrin with him, and he was regretting that. But, he figured a little pain was better than possibly having some school type misunderstanding of popping pills in class.

“Would have been here sooner but couldn’t find my stash.” Peter reached into a pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, tossing it quickly towards Dan, though towards his left side. Dan caught it, not as smoothly as if he’d used his dominate hand, but still decently, and looked at the Senior. The bottle was unmarked, and he was more than a little apprehensive about just taking random pills.

“One’s probably good, two if you’re in a lot of pain though.” Peter said in response to Dan’s look. “It’s just Ibuprofen. Trust me, I wouldn’t drug you. Nor would I have anything that could get us in trouble. We’re athletes, after all.”

Dan gave the contents a once over and pulled out two. In quick succession, he downed the pills.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Not sure what you did to your arm, but I’m guessing you pulled some muscles, yeah?”

“Something like that.” Dan said, rotating his shoulder. It had been stiffening up, and he knew if he didn’t move it a little, it would hurt even more a little later.

“Gotta be careful about overdoing it man. My fault though. I should have told you to slow down on all your practicing. But,” Peter smiled at him as he took the pills back, “you’re improvement has been so awesome, I didn’t want to stop it.”

“I’ll be good in a few days.” Dan responded, returning the Senior’s smile. “Trust me, this isn’t enough to keep me out for long.”

Peter grinned and slapped Dan on the left shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s my boy.”

“So, what are we going to be doing today?” Dan asked.

Peter’s grin widened. “Obviously we’re going shopping.” His eyes sparkled. “Like I said, we’re getting you a new racquet.”

“Oh. Wait. I can’t. I don’t have the money.” Dan had looked up racquets online. They were not cheap. And Dan didn’t have a job. His allowance wasn’t bad, considering his dad gave him extra, likely out of guilt for being gone so much, but still, he knew tennis racquets got expensive, quickly. And he’d already spent over 100 dollars on his new shoes. There was no way in hell he could afford to purchase a racquet. Especially not something like Dan’s. He’d checked. Those RF’s from Wilson were over 300 dollars.

“You act like you’ve got a choice.” Peter laughed and motioned for Dan to follow him. “Besides,” Peter flashed him a smile, “you’re my protégé. Consider me a sugar daddy right now. Obviously, I’m buying you your new racquets.”

Dan’s jaw opened a little more. Had he…had he said racquets?

“Come on Danny boy.” Peter had paused a few feet away, glancing back at the unmoving Dan. “Otherwise, I’m just going to buy you the most expensive racquets I can, but get them custom painted bright pink.”

Dan was moving the moment those words left Peter’s mouth. He knew there was no use arguing with the Senior. Besides, Peter had the money. And he was pretty sure Peter would actually get him bright pink racquets, if he didn’t go along with what the Senior wanted. Peter was Peter after all.