11. Asher
Asher
Fuck all of this shit.
I ask the doctors to refer me to a surgeon in Denver because the last thing I want is to stay in Oregon if I can’t fight. I’m still fucking pissed at my coaches at Uncaged, and not a single one of them would see my side.
I even tried to talk to Max to see if she could convince the guys to let me keep training.
“I’m not going to be responsible for your recklessness. Get better, get back to training,” she told me. It was my final straw. I stormed out of the gym, determined not to go back.
While I want to avoid the surgery and recovery altogether, the pain has only gotten worse, and I know I’ll come back better than ever. Then I’ll fucking show them that they lost me, I’ll go to another gym. A better one, or I’ll do it myself. I don’t care, I just want to get the fuck out of Seaside.
As soon as I’m back in Denver it hits me why I didn’t want to come back here either. The billboards showcasing all the professional sports teams seem to haunt me as I drive down the freeway. The familiar faces of some of the people I’ve grown up with seem to follow me.
Hockey…football…baseball, they’re all over the place here and it makes me sick.
Then there’s one I pass that hasn’t been taken down yet highlighting Rae Sparks.
Now there’s a face I wouldn’t mind seeing again. The only one from my past that I don’t hate thinking about.
Too bad, she’s always with the rest of them. I don’t think there’s any way to get involved with her without the baggage of everyone else along for the ride. Even just for a little fun. She doesn’t seem like the type to keep it casual.
After my surgery I’m stuck in a bed once again and I hate it even more this time because I can’t move my arm at all.
The medication is still in my system making my whole body feel weak and I hate feeling weak.
It makes me feel helpless, like a child stuck where I couldn’t defend myself.
I could only curl up in a ball and try to lessen the damage being inflicted on me from the adults that were supposed to take care of me.
I scroll on my phone to try and distract myself. I’m sick of TV, and everything online is boring me. But then a headline catches my attention.
Are the sparks fading? Rae Sparks, Hollywood’s good girl…boring?
I keep reading, the article is clearly trying to slam Rae in every way, it talks about her music being too repetitive, her image being too perfect. It compares her to her mom, calling her the “watered down version of the original.” It’s brutal.
The comments are even worse. People are completely bashing her music and her as a person, which just makes me shake my head. None of them actually know her. Neither do I anymore, but I still know none of this is true.
I look through my contacts and see that I still have her number, though I’m not sure if she’s changed it by now, I try anyway. What else am I going to do stuck here in this bed in my tiny apartment I rented on short notice.
Asher
Hey
She doesn’t reply right away and I don’t know if she will. I also notice the texts from Adam, Caine, Drew, and Max that I leave on read. I scroll back to some of the texts from Audrey I never answered either, and think about telling her I’m here.
Audrey and I were never close, we didn’t even know each other until I was a teenager anyway. Even after I came to live with her we didn’t get along. We butted heads over everything. She thought just because she’s older that I had to listen to everything she had to say.
My phone vibrates and it’s a reply from Rae. I fully expect it to be her asking who it is, or being told I have the wrong number.
Rae
Wow, never expected to hear from you again, stranger.
Asher
Yeah, you’re actually talking to a ghost.
Rae
That tracks actually.
I don’t know what my intention was reaching out to her. Making sure she’s okay? She seems fine. It’s not like I could see her or anything. I’m down the use of an arm, and we have nothing in common.
My phone goes off again.
Rae
Are you home or at a fight somewhere?
Asher
Home.
Asher
Actually back home in Denver.
Rae
Really? No one said anything.
Asher
No one knows.
Rae
Oh.
I set my phone down; I’m sure she’s going to tell Audrey now. Maybe I should text her first. A twinge of pain from my shoulder distracts me, and reminds me how lost I really am. Alone and lost.
I don’t let myself feel bad about it because it’s how I’ve always been, and how I’ll always be. I’ll get through this, just like I get through everything else.
The next day when I still haven’t heard from Audrey, I realize that Rae may not have said anything. That makes me like her a little more because I was sure she’d snitch. I decide that I’ll say something. Better she hears it from me anyway.
Asher
I’m back.
Asher
In Denver, I mean.
Audrey
Does that mean I can actually see you sometime?
I scoff at the screen, of course she doesn’t actually care that I’m back. Typical Audrey, snarky at best. I’ve always been an inconvenience to her, ever since I came into her life.
Asher
Try to contain your excitement, but don’t worry you don’t have to see me. I didn’t come back to crash your life again.
Audrey
Don’t be a dick, I want to see you.
I toss my phone to the side, sure she does. She has her life, and I’ve never fit into it. I know that hasn’t changed.
Especially now, because the only thing worse than her fuck up brother coming into her life to invade her space is her now injured brother doing the same. A fucked up, failed, loser that came crawling back.
I throw the blanket off with a growl, determined to do something today. Even if I’m not supposed to work out yet, there’s nothing stopping me from doing legs, or running. Or something that doesn’t involve my arms, but I need to distract my mind.
Even getting changed has been a pain in the ass to me, and I forgo dealing with a shirt, opting to jog in just some gym shorts. I want to take this annoying sling off, but when I tried, the intense pain from any small movement just about took me out.
I guess I’m jogging with it today. I cannot wait for this torture to be over and I can get back to normal use of both my arms.
I thought one of the things I could do while stuck in bed would be to jack off.
Who doesn’t enjoy doing that? Well, turns out even that’s difficult with this fucking thing on my arm.
It’s made everything in my life ten times more difficult.
Everything I enjoyed has been taken away from me from this single injury.
After my run that doesn’t last as long as I hoped because my entire body is still recovering, I’m annoyed once again at the limitations my own body is putting on me.
I hop in the shower, which is one of the few times I’m allowed to take off the sling.
I’m still unable to move my arm much, but the hot spray of water feels good.
I should be icing my injury more than I have been, but the heat feels like it soothes everything else that hurts.
Once I’m done, I look at my phone again, ignoring the new texts from Audrey, but not the one I left unanswered from Rae.
And I do something risky because what else do I have to lose at this point? I have nothing else going on. Who knows, maybe the “good girl” doesn’t want to be so good anymore. That’s one area where I know I can be useful.