Dane

I sign the paperwork, and I accept the sheath of papers and the drugs that they give me. A nurse informs me that my girlfriend is waiting in the lobby, which earns her a confused look. "My girlfriend?" I repeat, wondering if somehow Amy had found out about this and was telling people at the hospital that she's my girlfriend.

"She was here last night." The nurse says, sounding as confused as me.

Mackenzie. She's the first and the last person I want to see right now. On one hand I want to fall back into her arms and cry more, and on the other, I'm mortified that I've already done this. No one sees me display emotion like that. No one.

I'm embarrassed that Mackenzie has seen the worst side of me. And I'm embarrassed at my god-awful behavior the previous day. I hate myself that I'd asked her to leave, because being pressed against her body had been the best thing that had happened to me all semester. I'd let a fucking girl distract me from baseball. I knew it wasn't her fault that Grant had hit that line drive, but I couldn't help think that maybe if I hadn't been so distracted by her, that maybe everything would be different.

All this is running through my mind when I walk into the hospital lobby and Mackenzie stands up to greet me. Her face is a mixture of nerves and something I can't quite read. I know that she's tense, because she's clenching her jaw.

And so, because I'm apparently the worst person to have ever lived, instead of saying hello to her, what comes out is, "You didn't need to come pick me up." My voice is mean, and I immediately hate myself. My self-loathing has never been higher.

"Well, I did." She tells me. "So let's go."

Since it's not like I have a plethora of ride options, I follow her outside and get into the car. "How are you feeling?" I can tell she's trying hard to be patient.

"I've been better." I say, not looking at her.

"I know." She says softly. She doesn't say anything else, which is probably smart, because I'm ready to snap at anything at this point. The sling feels constricting, and they'd told me that the surgery went as well as could be imagined, but my recovery time was still months. It was months that no longer mattered, because not being able to pitch for that long was career-ending. Most pitchers don't come back from rotator cuff injuries, and if they do, they're likely to just tear it again.

No team would draft me with an injury like this. I know that my career is over. The absolute worst part is, that I'm not sure that I care as much as I should. I've claimed baseball is my life repeatedly, for years. And yet, now that I'm watching that path slip away from me, I find myself feeling a bit apathetic.

When we reach my house, Mackenzie steps out and grabs the papers and drugs that I'd thrown in the back seat. I hate how much she's doing for me. I'm just in a sling, I'm an adult, I can carry some fucking papers and some bottles. I'd carried them down to the lobby.

"I can do that myself." I snap at her.

"I'm just trying to be helpful." She tells me, walking in front of me to the door.

We walk inside and I'm met with the familiar mess that seems to be our kitchen. I stalk past her and make my way up the stairs. She follows me in silence.

I need to be alone, so when we reach my door I turn and snatch the items out of her hands and slam the door in her face. The last thing I see is her shocked expression before I'm just looking at the back of my door.

I hate myself.

I hate what's happened to me.

I hate that I like my tutor.

I hate that my tutor became my friend.

I hate that I know I have feelings for my friend and that I'm too much of a fucking coward to do anything about it.

But mostly, I hate myself for treating her like shit when she doesn't deserve it in the least.

I hear her footsteps retreat and I know that it's too late to apologize to her right now. When the front door slams shut, I can't help the hot tears that roll down my cheeks. I sit on my bed and cry, even though my father always told me it made me less of a man. I cry for myself but also for Mackenzie, because I can already feel that I'm pushing her so far away from me it's going to be like we never met at all.