The Scars of Anatomy

38. Finches

My crutches click loudly against the tiled hospital floors as I struggle to hop my way through the corridor. Everything still hurts, all my bruises starting to turn a nasty yellowish color while the road rash is scabbing over nicely.

After my accident, Olivia and I stayed in Florida a few more days to rest, cooped up in the hotel room, before attempting the uncomfortable five hour drive back home. I profusely apologized for ruining our vacation, but she insisted she didn't mind.

Since the incident at the nursing home, I've blocked my mother's number, her calls persistent since then, and dodged any unknown caller I.D.'s to avoid her at all costs. I have nothing to say to her anyway. For a minute, I was scared she was going to find out about my accident or find out which hotel I was staying at and come hunt me down, but I haven't seen her since the nursing home, thankfully. And I plan to keep it that way, as harsh as it may be.

Back at home now, Olivia helps me through the hallways of the hospital after completing the follow up appointment with my doctor. He said everything is going to take time to heal, but everything should heal properly. As far as my football career goes, as I suspected, he doesn't expect me to bounce back and be the athlete I once was, basically crushing any dreams I have of making it to the NFL.

A heavy rock of disappointment and uncertainty sits in the pit of my stomach as I scramble to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now. I know I'm going to graduate in a few months with my degree in exercise science, but I've honestly never given much thought about actually using it. I always pictured myself going straight to the NFL, not even needing my degree, but now I have to digest that's not a possibility anymore.

Olivia walks beside me like someone who would walk with a toddler, tense and observant, ready to catch me in case I fall over. I don't know how she expects to catch me though, given I'm twice her size.

Halfway down the hall, a voice calls out Olivia's name and we both look over our shoulders, finding Miss Cora coming up behind us.

Cora smiles. "I thought that was you," she says, walking up to us and hugging Olivia.

"Hi, Cora," Olivia greets her, hugging her back.

Cora glances down at her watch, her brow furrowing. "You're early."

Olivia lets out a small laugh. "Oh, no. I was going to run home first before I came back up for dinner," she says, and I suddenly realize its Tuesday. "I'm here now for his appointment," she clarifies, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You remember Bronx, right?"

"Oh, yes, I've seen him once or twice before," Cora confirms.

I remember briefly meeting Cora the day I brought Olivia into the hospital after she passed out, but things were so hectic that day I don't think we were ever formally introduced. But after everything I've come to find out about her, I can't help but feel like I already know her, and I can't help but look at her differently. I suddenly have a strong urge to throw my arms around her and hug her tightly, but I refrain.

Instead, I give her a polite smile, tucking my right crutch into my armpit to give her a handshake. "It's great to see you again."

She smiles at me, her pearly whites standing out against her dark skin. "Likewise."

"Let me just run him back home and I'll be back up in about a half an hour or so," Olivia says.

"That's okay, baby. I can just wait around here somewhere while you guys catch up," I insist, not wanting her to drive me all the way to the dorms just to come back here.

She frowns. "No, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

I smile, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll be fine," I promise. "You guys go enjoy your dinner."