22. Griffin
TWENTY-TWO
After six monthsin and out of the hospital, you would think I’d be used to medical buildings by now, but here I am in the waiting room of the team’s physiotherapist. I shift uncomfortably in the plush chair, my eyes darting to the exit door every few seconds as my leg bounces up and down. The nerves and anticipation building second by second.
I look around at the sterile whiteness of the walls, feeling like they’re closing in on me. I shift in my seat again, in the opposite direction this time and close my eyes as I focus on my breathing.
I promised Eliana that I would book this appointment and check on the state of my leg but I’m starting to regret it. I should just leave, I can get answers another time, I don’t need to know today.
I stand up, ready to make a run for it, but the door to the physiotherapist’s office swings open and a short blonde woman, probably in her forties, walks out. Her hair is a striking bleach blonde and I can’t look away from her unnaturally plump lips as she beckons me inside.
“Griffin Jones,” she says in a thick Russian accent as she holds her hand out to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you; I’m Doctor Ivanova.”
I shake her hand, caught off guard by her strong grip before she releases my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Are you here because of your knee?” She flips through a folder with my name written on it. “I see that your last doctor at the main hospital recommended that you not return to surfing for now. Yet here you are.”
She looks up at me, an eyebrow arched, before she briskly closes the folder and grabs a hospital gown, handing it to me.
“Change into this, we’re going to run some tests on your leg and see how it’s doing compared to your last exam.” She walks out of the room, the door clicking closed behind her.
I quickly shuffle out of my top and pants, keeping my boxers on, as I change into the gown. Not even a minute later there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call out.
Dr. Ivanova walks back in and starts to pull machinery towards me, instructing me to lay on her exam table. She does an X-ray, an ultrasound, and ends with leg manipulations that make my knee throb with pain. Her scowl deepens after each test causing my anxiety to mount as I begin to think of worst-case scenarios.
She’s going to tell me I can’t ever surf again, or worse, she’s going to tell me I need to cut my leg off. I feel the blood drain from my face as I convince myself I’ll be leaving this room with one less limb.
She lets out a long and deep sigh as she flips through the test results and silently writes her notes. When she finishes, she closes the booklet again and looks up, her eyes boring into mine.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush because that’s not the type of doctor I am,” she says, tossing the booklet onto her desk and crossing her arms.
“Just tell me.” I feel like I might puke all over her shiny marble floors if she doesn’t hurry up.
“Your injury hasn’t improved, Griffin,” she says, her words carrying the weight of a sledgehammer, “in fact, it looks like it’s gotten worse since your last exam results. If you continue to push yourself, instead of focusing on recovering, you are going to jeopardize your professional surfing career.”
The air gets sucked out of my lungs as I stare at her, my ears ringing. She’s confirmed my biggest fear but hearing it out loud makes it a million times worse. A swell of emotions courses through me – frustration, disappointment, and a gnawing fear of what’s to come.
“So, you think I should stop surfing for the season?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
She nods. “Your focus right now needs to be on recovering completely, not winning competitions. Unless you plan to retire early and surf until you can’t anymore.” Her tone is clipped as she studies me with narrowed eyes.
“Do you think I can still surf in tomorrow’s competition at least?” I ask.
“You should be fine tomorrow, as long as you don’t push yourself. If you feel pain, then you need to paddle back in and call it a day.”
I nod as she walks toward her office door, resting her hand on the doorknob and looking back at me over her shoulder.
“But, Griffin, tomorrow needs to be your last competition until you’re healed. Come see me after and we’ll restart your therapy.”
She walks out, closing the door behind her without a second glance, leaving me to change back into my clothes. I stay seated on the exam table for a few more minutes, digesting everything she said while I stare at the white wall in front of me.
I’ve let my team down, again, and they don’t even know it yet.
Back from thephysiotherapist’s office, I sit at the kitchen island, tapping my leg impatiently and checking my watch. Eliana has been locked in the team meeting room with Gabriel for almost an hour and my mind has started to think the worst.
Is he firing her?
Is she quitting?
I tap my leg faster now.
“Are you okay?”
I look up to see Koa pouring himself a cup of coffee. I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed him walk downstairs and pass me.
“Do you know why Gabriel wanted to talk to Eliana?” I ask.
He shakes his head before taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s probably something to do with the campaign she’s working on.”
Right. The campaign.
In all my stress and panic, I’d forgotten today was the day she was presenting her pitch to Gabriel for approval.
“Fuck it,” I mumble, standing up and making my way to the meeting room.
I knock twice and walk in. Gabriel is sitting on top of the long table, hands in his pockets, while Eliana stands beside the smart TV presenting her PowerPoint. They both pause and look at me.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say, closing the door behind me and walking toward Gabriel.
“No, no. Come on in. It’s good that you’re here. Eliana was just briefing me on the idea she came up with for the campaign,” Gabriel says, patting a spot on the desk beside him.
I lift myself up and take a seat next to him, my eyes skimming over Eliana. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail and I start to fantasize all the ways I would take her with her hair wrapped in my hand. From the heated look she gives me, she knows where my mind is right now.
“If you two are done eye-fucking each other,” Gabriel says, clearing his throat, “I’d like to continue with this presentation, Eliana.”
She flushes tomato red as she looks back at her PowerPoint and skips to the next screen.
“I took a survey from our followers on the type of content they would like to see from us. The most requested content was more insight into the behind the scenes of the team,” she explains, pointing to a chart.
“What do they mean by behind the scenes?” Gabriel asks.
“They want to get to know each member of the team on a more personal level and see the work that goes into being a professional surfer on the Saltwater Shredders team,” she explains, “I was thinking a mini-documentary series on each member would be a good way to showcase that.”
Gabriel nods, pulling his hands out of his pockets and folding them across his chest as he sits up straighter, giving her his full attention.
“They also voted for more community events. They want the team to get out more and get to know their fanbase.” She points to another section of the chart.
“Like meet and greets?” I ask, my interest piqued.
“Something like that,” she smiles warmly, “I think a public surf day where we open up The Shredder Beach to locals that want to surf with the team is a good start, maybe some volunteer surf lessons with the younger fans; things that involve the team with the community.”
“Those are excellent ideas,” Gabriel says, clapping as she reaches the final slide which is a picture of the team smiling, “I’ll leave it up to you to arrange the production and publishing of those. Amazing job, Eli.”
“I’ll need your help with one thing,” she says, removing her USB from the laptop and walking over to us, “I need all the footage you have of every member as far back as you’ve got.”
He nods. “Not a problem, I’ll have that to you by tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she says, smiling at him before turning to me. “Do you have any footage or photos from the last six months while you were recovering?”
I stiffen. “You want to include that in the documentary?”
I had told myself that no one would see what I went through during those six months. It”s one of the reasons I didn”t let anyone visit me, but if it”s to help Eliana then I’ll do it. If it makes her happy then it’s worth it.
She nods. “I think showing the world what you went through is going to be the most impactful part of the documentary.”
“Okay,” I breathe out slowly. “I’ll send you everything I have after tomorrow’s competition.”
“Great,” Gabriel claps his hands together. “I’m really pleased with everything you’ve shown me today, Eliana. Your content plan for the year is impressive and I can’t wait to see the results of your hard work.”
She blushes as she smiles at him and when he smiles back, I clear my throat and frown at Gabriel. His eyes slide to mine as his mouth pulling into a smirk, and I realize he’s played me.
Did he set this up? Me developing feelings for her?
He gave her a room, which is unusual for non-surfing members of the team, which just so happened to be next to my room. He made me her first campaign subject, forcing us to work together. He treats her differently in front of me, as if he’s waiting for a reaction.
A reaction I just gave him.
“Was there a reason you came looking for us, Griffin?” he asks, his smirk becoming more pronounced as he studies me.
I freeze, staring into both of their eyes as anxiety claws its way up my throat.
“Wasn’t today your physio appointment?” she asks, brows pulled together in concern.
“Is everything okay?” Gabriel asks when I don’t answer.
“Everything is fine,” I lie, releasing the breath that I’m holding.
I was set on telling them that tomorrow is my last day surfing when I walked in earlier, but after seeing all the work that Eliana’s put into this campaign, I can’t bring myself to do it. Seeing how excited Gabriel is about it too adds a whole new layer on top of it. I can’t let them down, not today.
They both stare at me skeptically, my discomfort growing under their gazes. I stand up quickly and throw an arm over Eliana’s shoulder, guiding her out of the room with a forced grin.
“See you at practice, Gabriel,” I say over my shoulder.
I turn to shut the door behind us, my eyes connecting with Gabriel’s. He doesn’t say anything as he watches the door close but I catch the narrowing of his eyes. It”s only a matter of time before he finds out, but I have to be the one to tell him.