"Come on, I know that look. Frenchie, you’re nervous," Taylor said as he gripped her hand. Fran glanced at him, but said nothing. Hospitals, she hated hospitals. The last time she’d been in an actual hospital was when her father died. When she got her cast on and when she had it removed a few days beforehand was both in the doctor’s office. She still couldn’t walk on it, for now it was too weak, and the tendon was still ripped. She hadn’t walked on it since November. It was February fifth now. It’d still be a long time before her leg completely healed.
She sat in the hospital bed, in the tacky hospital gown, her foot propped up. Surgery was to begin any minute now. Her father died during surgery, even though his circumstances were a bit different. They weren’t repairing a leg tendon, they were trying to remove the bullets from his chest.
Fran bit on her nails. She had acquired that habit once she broke her leg. She didn’t play the rest of the winter season, she wasn’t going to play this spring season either. If she was lucky she’d get enough strength to play winter next year. She didn’t get MVP…that went to Kyle.
Dammit and I was the one who taught him everything he knows.
She had to let some of this out. "Taylor," she whispered. He affectionately rubbed her hand between his, over the ring that she hadn’t taken off since he put it on her finger. "I don’t like it here. The last time I was at a hospital…"
"Your father died. I know. I don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here. Just think of it this way, your father loved you playing hockey and if you stay calm and stay here you’ll get better and you can play again." She smiled.
"Stop always knowing what to say." Frustrated, she ran her hands through her hair. Her emotions had been shot to hell. Her memory triggered back to early January, when the MVP was given out. She had attended out of the sake of Kyle and Tyler. Kyle Bronson, he won it. He didn’t even thank her for pushing him to his limit every practice. He thanked Tyler, he thanked the Coach, he barely thanked the team, he passed Fran.
She remembered going home—almost to the point of a zombie—and staring at her leg. Then it was still in the ugly cast, her whole leg was ugly. It was swollen and the cast was turning yellow from the wear. She hadn’t played hockey in two months.
"Fran, stop it." She snapped out of her self-pity to face Taylor. "I know what you’re doing and it’s not healthy."
"Kyle said he’d be here, but he isn’t. Why am I not surprised?" Fran asked. "I don’t know what’s with him, but lately he just doesn’t want to talk to me." Taylor gave her a reassuring smile, and let her know that once this was all over, things were going to go back to normal.
There was a knock at the door and it opened cautiously. Coach Curtis popped his head in. "Can I come in?" Fran nodded. He smiled and walked in. "So, how are you feeling? Big surgery today…"
"I know, I know. That’s why I’m in the hospital in the first place, coach." Coach Curtis gave her a look. She smiled. "I’m doing good. It’s just a surgery and I have morphine." Fran looked over to Taylor. "I got my one true fan over here rooting me on. Since Kyle didn’t bother to show up."
"I don’t think he would, Fran. He hasn’t been the best person lately, since the team’s been falling apart. He really needs to get his act together or I’m gonna have to cut him."
"You can’t cut Kyle!" Fran said. "He may have an attitude problem but he’s the best wing we got! We can’t score shit without him!" Coach Curtis shrugged. "Just give him a chance until I’m back on my feet. It shouldn’t be that long."
"Yeah right, Fran. You’ve still got weeks before you can play again." Fran’s eyes pleaded with her coach. "Fine, I won’t cut him, not until you’re back. If he doesn’t clean up by then, well then I’m gonna have to." Fran smiled.
"Thanks." She bit her lip, thinking. "Is he really that bad? I mean what has he been doing?" Considering she didn’t often go to the games and never went to practices, she didn’t know how her team was doing.
"He doesn’t show up for practices and throws a fit when I don’t let him play in the games. He threatens the team and bullies the new kids. We had to get some new guys when you left, just to compensate. He’s gotten in tons of fights with some of them. He’s even picked fights with Tyler."
"But Tyler and Kyle are tight! They’re as tight as I am with them. We’ve known each other for years. They’ve never fought a day in their lives and they’ve always joined forces to pick on other people." Coach Curtis shrugged.
"Well Tyler came home with a nice bruise on his face from a fight last week. Kyle’s gone haywire. The boy’s got talent he just doesn’t put out anymore." Fran sighed and put her hands through her hair. Over the months that she had been injured and busy she hadn’t bothered to cut it, and now it laid around the middle of her back. It didn’t suit her personality at all, but it was wonderful for her physical appearance. Coach Curtis didn’t like it at all.
"If you see him around, send him my way. I got some ass kicking to do. I don’t care what shape my leg is in, he’s getting it." Coach Curtis sighed, not understanding why she took so much effort into her teammates. They all were worried as hell over her, wondering if she’d ever get back up to par. She hadn’t walked in months, the muscle in her leg diminishing. She hadn’t played in months, she’d lose it all if she didn’t work at it soon. And yet after this surgery she had weeks before she was allowed to walk again.
She seemed melancholy. She wasn’t her bright, happy, witty self. Inside she was beating herself up. Coach Curtis noticed. "Well, you do good and you’ll be playing before you know it." He ran his fingers down her nose and smiled before leaving. She managed a weak smile in return. When he left, she turned to Taylor.
"In the ten years I’ve known Kyle," she said, "he’s never been cruel to anyone. That was always my job."
"I don’t know what’s up with him. I don’t know what’s up with any of the team. It’s probably because you’re not there." Fran gave him a look. "It’s true, Frenchie! They’ve lost hope." She blew it off, thinking nothing of his comment. He opened his mouth again, only to be cut off by a doctor walking in the room.
"We’re ready for you, Fran," he said. "So we’ll get a nurse in here to knock you out." Fran raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, we use a big sledgehammer, didn’t you know that?" This is the guy who’s supposed to operate on me? New doctor! "I’m just kidding. She’ll be right in." Taylor said goodbye and left with the doctor.
"Oh dear God…" she said, and put her head in her hands.
"Wake up Frenchie!" Taylor’s voice said. Fran opened her eyes and stuck a hand in front of her face to shield the light. "Oh sorry." Taylor turned off the main light and put on a smaller one. She sat up and looked around. It was a different hospital room, and Taylor was the only one in there. Figures, her mother was out of town.
"Damn my leg hurts," Fran said, not even realizing it. Taylor froze, staring at her wide-eyed. "What?"
"It’s nothing really…" he said, turning to completely face her. "It’s just that I’ve never heard you complain about pain before." She put her hand over her mouth.
"It must be the drugs they stuck me on. It’s not like me to complain." She glanced down at her leg. The whole thing was wrapped in a cast-like substance. "But damn…" She stifled the screams that welled in her throat. This was so much worse than when she’d ripped the tendon in the first place. "What time is it?"
"Ten," Taylor said, glancing at a clock on the wall. "You were out for a long time. You were in surgery for about four hours." She looked surprised, then motioned for him to come over to her. He walked over and she grabbed him and pulled him down. "Ah!" he said, toppling onto the bed. "Well at least I know you’re not any weaker."
"I’ll always be strong, Taylor. You know that." He smiled and kissed her. "I’m so glad that’s over. I’ve been fearing that surgery for months now. That damn Austin boy…"
"It’s over now, forget about it. You’ll be ready and playing before you know it. I think you’ll be walking in time for the annual Taylor and Frenchie Holiday Bash." Fran laughed. The annual Taylor and Frenchie Holiday Bash was basically their big birthday party, because their birthdays were only a day apart. Taylor shifted to sit in the chair next to the bed. "Kyle’s here, he came over a little while ago. I sent him to the cafeteria cause he was complaining that he was hungry. He should be back soon."
"So he finally came?" Taylor nodded. "What am I supposed to say to him? I mean he’s been basically my best friend for ten years now, and for the first time I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know about his attitude, I don’t know how he’s going to act…I just don’t know anything anymore."
The door opened and in walked Kyle. He looked like he lost a lot of weight, and he was carrying a heavy attitude about his appearance. He froze upon seeing her sitting up and looking back at him. "Hey Kyle," Fran said. "Pleasure seeing you here."
"Can it, Fran."
"If you’re just gonna snap at me, then I suggest you leave because I won’t tolerate it." Kyle stood there, not saying anything. His body language was enough to piss her off. "Coach tells me that you and Tyler got in a fight. Care to relate why?"
"First off, he’s not your coach anymore. You haven’t played in months. Tyler was ripping on me so I punched him. No big deal." Fran let her eyes grow wide. Just from the way he talked made her want to kill him, and she loved this boy to no end! She couldn’t understand why he was being this way.
"Actually, Kyle, it is a big deal. I have never in my life seen you fight with Tyler. And to hear that you’ve hit him? That isn’t right. I don’t like what you’re doing and I don’t like your attitude. I put in a good word to keep you on the team until I come back. If your attitude doesn’t improve, then once I’m back you’re gone! That’s it!"
"Coach wouldn’t cut me," Kyle said, looking away, his arms still folded across his chest.
"Coach would, and I stopped him. I believe you have some praising to do." Kyle gave her a look. "Fine then. If you’re not going to say anything, and you’re just going to cop and attitude this entire time then leave, I don’t want to see you again."
Kyle turned to leave, but Fran threw a nearby object at him. He scowled and turned back around. "And why the hell did you do that?" She looked at him, as if it was obvious.
"Kyle you’re my best friend! I’m not letting you leave!" Kyle glanced at Taylor, who only shrugged. "Okay, I know I’m confusing, but don’t leave. It’ll just make me feel bad and I don’t want that. Come over here." Kyle walked over and stood next to the bed because Taylor was occupying the only chair.
"What do you want from me, Fran?" he asked, sharply.
"Kyle, you’re too good for the act. I don’t know why you’re doing it, and I personally don’t want to know. I just want you to quit. You and me kick ass together. Once I’m back I want you there, you’re the team now."
"Why don’t you come to games anymore?" Kyle asked, shyly. "I know you can’t play but we need you there for support. Coach reserves a seat for you on the bench, but you never come to fill it." Fran sighed and shrugged her shoulders.
"I don’t know why I stopped. It was too much of a hassle, I guess. I never have a ride and it’s not like I can just walk there anymore." Kyle gave her a look. "What?"
"How old am I?"
"Sixteen," Fran said, a hint of a smile on her face. She’d forgotten he was two years older than her. He didn’t act it, though. He gave her a smile. "Fine, when’s the next game?"
"Tomorrow at six. I’ll pick you up at five."
She gave him a hug, despite the pain surging through her leg. "Now are you going to continue to be a bitch?" Kyle cracked a smile.
"I’ll shape up, just let go of me. You’re supposed to hang on Taylor, I’m just here for content." She let go and smiled. "Now don’t tell anybody about this or I’ll have to beat the hell outta you." She punched him in the arm. He cringed, looking at his newly hurt arm.
"Not if I beat the hell outta you first. Now get outta here, I don’t want to see you anymore!" He smiled and left. Once the door was closed, Fran turned to Taylor. He had a grin on her face. "And what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you grin?"
"Just the fact that you have complete control over him. I find it weird that he’d completely change his attitude because you told him to." She shrugged. "So, you gonna talk to the guys about our party?"
"Yeah, I guess I’ll do it tomorrow, after the game. It’s so weird that the team is still really good even without me. I told them I didn’t affect them all that much, they’re still good without me, but of course they didn’t pay attention."
"You’re so modest, Frenchie." She smiled. The door opened again, and once again came in Coach Curtis.
"Hello!" she said, in a very peppy manner. "I really need to stop doing that." Coach Curtis’s gaze landed on her leg. "It’s alright, just a bit more and I’ll be walking again. I don’t know if you passed Kyle or not but I’m going to the game tomorrow. For moral support, ya know."
"We’re playing the Hawks tomorrow, we need you there. We need you to yell out plays in code that I don’t know. And I don’t know any of them. I hear Tyler shouting out things like ‘Taco’, ‘Burrito’ and ‘Nacho Grande’ and the play changes." Fran laughed, slightly.
"Yeah, Tyler does that. According to him I’m Pepper Spice. Kyle is Nacho Grande. Taco is defense advance and Burrito is offense advance. It’s so weird because all of a sudden Tyler and his big fat mouth shouts out ‘Pepper Spice and Nacho Grande, Tacos!’ It makes the other team think he’s really hungry." Taylor gave Fran a strange look, but she just smiled.
"Alright, at least my son isn’t nuts."
"No, that’s Matt," Fran pointed out. Coach Curtis shook his head, smiling broadly. "Tyler can’t be nuts. He’s too cute to be nuts."
"Excuse me?" asked Coach Curtis, matching Taylor’s look.
"What?" she asked. "For once I’m acting like a girl and saying how attractive he is. It’s not like it a crime against nature or anything. I’m only human, God, leave me alone." Fran put her head in her hands, faking an upset mood. Taylor rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. The upset mood didn’t last because Fran just broke into laughter. "That was pretty funny though, the look on your face."
"Fran, stop acting like a girl!" Coach Curtis joked. She smiled like a little girl and raised her shoulders, looking innocent. "Okay, that’s not something that you should be proud of."
"I’m proud of being a girl! I don’t act like it, but I’m still damn proud!" Fran paused, thinking of something that occurred earlier in the conversation. "Wait, isn’t Austin on the Hawks?" Coach Curtis nodded. "Ooh I got a bone to pick with him." Fran rubbed her hands together, concocting a plan in her mind.
"Fran you sent him to the emergency room once, don’t make things worse than they are already." She sighed, looking over at Taylor. He was grinning, remembering the grief she had to go through with that boy’s parents and the cost of the medical bill.
"I won’t kill him," Fran said, reassuringly. Coach Curtis gave her a look. "Fine, I might, but I’m not promising anything." She smiled.