Chapter 15
Fifteen
Delilah had never sweated through her eyebrows before.
But there she was, bent double on the court, blinking against the salt sting, while Cassie barked instructions like a drill sergeant who didn’t believe in mercy.
‘Split step. React. Move. Hit. Again.’
Delilah wheezed out something that might’ve been ‘Christ on a bike’ but could’ve equally been a death rattle. Cassie naturally showed no sign of sympathy. Her voice carried across the court, flat as ever.
‘You keep waiting to see where it’s going. You need to read it. Anticipate.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Delilah muttered, more to herself than anyone.
Cassie tossed another ball.
Delilah pushed off from the baseline, trying to move without thinking, trying to be whatever Cassie was telling her to be. And for a moment, it clicked. Her feet obeyed her. Her arm connected at the right angle. The ball sang off the racket and clipped the sideline with a satisfying thwack.
But didn’t even get a chance to crow. Her ankle gave way on the landing.
The pain came hard and fast. Not agony. But enough to bring Delilah to the ground.
Cassie was there before she’d even cursed. One knee down, hand on Delilah’s shin, eyes scanning with that same dispassionate focus she had during training, but with something else under it too. Something worried.
‘Don’t move,’ Cassie said. Already rolling up her sock, testing the ankle gently but with precision. ‘Where’s it worst?’
‘It’s… It’s fine. I just went over on it.’
‘Which is how a sprain starts. Or worse.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Can you put weight on it?’
Delilah tried. Wobbled. Sat back down with a muttered, ‘Nope.’
Cassie exhaled sharply and stood up. ‘We’re going to the hospital.’
‘What? That’s dramatic.’
‘Trust me. If it’s more than a tweak, you’ll want to catch it now. Come on.’
Delilah wanted to argue. But there was something about Cassie’s that made it pointless.
**
The waiting room was grey in that special institutional way. Half-dead fern in the corner, water cooler with no cups, a sad vending machine that offered only still water or prawn cocktail crisps.
Cassie had parked her beside a laminated sign about infection control and fetched her an ice pack.
They sat in silence. Delilah was starting to feel embarrassed by the whole thing as she iced her ankle.
‘It’s not that bad,’ she said.
Cassie didn’t look over. ‘We’ll see.’
‘You always assume the worst?’
‘I’ve lived it.’
Delilah glanced at her. Cassie’s gaze was fixed on the fern.
‘This happened to you?’
‘I ruptured my UCL,’ Cassie explained evenly. ‘Didn’t realise until I’d made it worse.’
Delilah blinked. ‘That’s a big one, right?’
‘It’s the one that ends careers.’ Cassie didn’t say it with bitterness. Just a cold fact.
So, that explained why Cassie didn’t play now, if Delilah had wondered. Which she had. ‘Sorry,’ Delilah said.
Cassie gave a brief shrug. ‘Don’t be. It happens.’
Before Delilah could ask anything else, a nurse called her name. Cassie stood before she could, hand offered wordlessly. Delilah took it and was surprised by the careful way Cassie helped her into the exam room with a gentility Delilah didn’t know she had.
**
The doctor poked and prodded, made her do some mildly humiliating flexes, and finally pronounced it not serious.
‘Mild sprain. Bit of swelling. You’ll be back at it in a couple of days. Just ice and rest.’
Delilah grinned. Cassie did not.
‘Two days,’ Delilah repeated, already planning a sofa marathon. ‘Doctor’s orders.’
They hobbled back to the car in near silence. Delilah expected to be dropped at home and left in peace. Instead, Cassie started scribbling in a notepad and ripped out the page, handing it to her.
‘What’s this?’
‘Homework.’
Delilah blinked at her. ‘You’re giving me homework?’
‘Watch these matches. You’ll learn something.’
Delilah narrowed her eyes. ‘You are obsessed.’
‘And now you’re behind schedule.’
Delilah looked down at the list, then back at Cassie. She sighed. ‘You know, some might call you a tyrant.’
Cassie started the engine. ‘Be grateful. That’s exactly what you need.’
Delilah tried not to smile and failed.