46 | Too young, too fast

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Thank you @ghouli.i.i for the chilled out poster of the two of them <3 so cute!

Chapter 46: Too young, too fast

What did I think about before you?

I wondered how long Luke's been on my mind but then I realized that since we met, he hasn't left it. He's stubborn like that.

I watched his teeth brush against his bottom lip as he glanced in the side mirror and switched lanes. He is so hot, even on a cold day like this. I resisted the urge to pull him towards me and kiss him.

Cool down, Millie. I fanned myself and reached for the air conditioning.

"Let's hear what you got," Luke told me, as he picked up speed on the highway.

I connected my phone to his speakers and hit play on my latest favorites. Sound blared through the car since Luke listens to music at a ridiculously high volume.

I gave him a little intro as the first song came on, "I'm into UK grime now."

Stormzy was first on my playlist.

**

We drove past a sign I've seen once before, and I turned the music way down.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, bewildered and looking in all directions like a cuckoo.

I never expected for us to come here on our date. I've been here once before – with Luke.

The sign said: Professional Sports Physical Therapy and Rehab Center

"You wanted me to be more open," Luke told me, "That's what I'm going to show you Minnie; a part of me I keep private."

Rehab?

What have I missed?

I remembered when he made me come here to sign something. It was back when I was paying down my debt on his broken laptop. 

I'd refused to sign it – but he never explained what that was about. Or why we were there.

And I didn't ask. I let it go without questioning. I didn't really think much about it, but I should have. 

Hindsight's 20/20, isn't it?

"Is everything OK?" I asked him, trying to read his expression, "Are you OK?"

How injured was he?

My mind went to the more extreme options. I couldn't help but think about Fault In Our Stars, Titanic and Sponge Bob. They weren't the most logical go-to's, but my mind is an odd place.

"Today," he answered, "I'm way more than fine."

**

We were on a date in a physical therapy and rehab clinic. Luke was really re-inventing the wheel with this one. I know dinner and a movie is a cliché but this...

"I don't know what to say," I commented as we walked hand-in-hand through the carpeted hallway. "Are we having dinner here?"

Luke replied and kept it mysterious. "You'll see."

It was a very nice clinic. There was art on the wall and decorative living rooms. Coffee table books and matching bowls decorated the surfaces. The staff walked around in white clothing, but no lab coats.

"You come here often?" I asked him.

"Nice pick-up line," he said.

I could see the playful twinkle in his eyes. He was messing with me. Out of the two of us, he used pick-up lines way more than me. He was the player. 

"You think I'm trying to hit on you?" I asked my boyfriend.

"I think you don't need those lines anymore." 

He smirked and brought his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer towards him. I wrapped my arm around his waist, because it would've awkwardly been wedged between our bodies if I didn't move it.

"I'm genuinely asking if you come here often," I mumbled into his shirt.

"I do," he answered.

My heart sunk. Why does he come here? How is he injured?

We walked past signs that pointed to 'fitness and nutrition consulting' and 'performance enhancement sports training' and towards the department that said 'physical therapy.'

We stopped at the end of a hallway and faced a wall of photos. A wall of athletes; gymnasts, swimmers, football players... and a basketball player I knew very well.

He's photogenic. He's got blue eyes that looked straight into the camera and a cute face. He looked a few years younger than who he was today. 

We've come a really long way just to look at a photo but maybe if I stare at it, he'll think I get the point...

I really don't get the point.

"I've been a patient here for a couple years," he told me, "I was injured sophomore year and it took about nine months before I was properly playing again."

I didn't know what to say. He waited for me to say something and then looked at me, like he was expecting me to say something. So I said the first thing that came to mind.

Which is never wise...

I pointed at the picture. "So that's you?"

"Yes, Millie. That's me."

I brought my fingers to my mouth and tugged at my lower lip. The truth is, I was scared. 

Luke is everything I wanted to be: strong and talented and powerful and confident and... here he was on the wall of a hospital. How do I stand strong if my rock is breaking?

"Luke, are you OK?" I asked him again, trying to keep everything together, "Please tell me we're not here because you're still a patient."

"I'm still a patient," he answered.

Come on, Luke. Say something to calm me down.

I tried really hard to think about something else, anything else so I don't fall apart right now.

"Don't look so worried," he told me, "I had jumper's knee and that led to surgery for micro-tears. I had to stop playing for a while, but I'm not going anywhere."

"Jumper's knee?" I repeated, running through a list of life-threatening illnesses in my mind.

Nope, jumper's knee was not one I've heard before.

I was so lost inside my thoughts that I didn't notice a doctor stop behind Luke until he said, "Patellar tendonitis is what you can call that, Mr Dawson."

I read the name on his silver name tag: Dr Banerjee.

"I haven't got you penciled in for a check-up today," the Dr. said, "Which is funny, because when I do, you don't show up."

"I haven't been a perfect patient," Luke told me, "But I still made the wall."

"That was undeserved, Mr Dawson. But Nurse Zhang liked you," the Dr. informed us, "Now who might you be? Always a pleasure to meet a new face."

"I'm Millie," I said, "It's nice to meet you too."

"Millie's my girlfriend. We're here on a date," Luke said.

I tried not to laugh at Dr Banerjee's expression. Luke didn't bother explaining.

He really doesn't care what people think. 

Then the Doctor said, "I hope you don't have any plans to disrupt the ordinary business-"

"No, no," Luke answered, "Nothing like that. We're innocent here."

"I'll never believe that," Dr Banerjee said and checked his beeper, before turning to me, "It's a nice surprise to meet you, Millie. I never thought I'd see Luke Dawson's girlfriend. You're a strong girl to be able to keep him in line."

I looked from the Doctor to Luke. OK.

The Dr added one more thing before he left. "You know what I've always said about you, Luke? Too young, too fast. I hope you prove me wrong."

**

Luke and I sat on a bench in the clinic's patio. There were so many plants surrounding us and the quiet murmur of patients passing by. It was a chilly day and I zipped my black coat up to my throat.

"Why did you bring me here Luke?" I asked him.

"Because I found it difficult to tell you," he said, "So I thought I'd show you."

I twisted round on the cold bench and stared back at the clinic. The busy comings and goings of patients and medical professionals – of lives I knew nothing about. I never expected he was hiding this.

"I chose the Kentucky Wildcats," Luke said.

Or that.

My fingers curled around the top of the wooden bench. "But that's not your dream school."

"When you don't know what your dream is, you go down the route that keeps your options open."

"What are you saying?" I asked him.

This didn't sound like him.

"I'm saying that I grew up with basketball," he answered, "Even if I don't go pro, athletic scholarships can take me to schools and give me opportunities I wouldn't have otherwise."

"Is that what everyone told you?" I asked him, feeling the hard wood under my fingernails as I held tightly onto the bench.

Chris, his father, his coach... everyone else. But what about you? I wanted to ask him.

"Why didn't you ask me?" I asked instead.

"You want me to follow my dreams," he answered, "But that was your advice when I hadn't told you everything yet."

I didn't realize how hard it had been for him to open up.

"Whenever I doubt it, I come here to a remind myself of how badly I wanted this," he said, leaning forwards and pressing his elbows against his knees. "It was almost taken away from me."

He was talking about his injury. 

I tried to comfort him, "You say it like it's a bad thing, but you got what you wanted. This is your dream then."

"Maybe," he said, "But maybe it's a dream that isn't meant for me."

"I don't understand Luke," I really wanted him to explain to me, to open up.

This vague notion of a dream he was talking about - do we know what we dream? Can reality ever be the dream?

"I thought I was invincible until this happened," he said, speaking slowly as if he wished he could unsay everything, "To fully recover, I need to avoid playing. I need to show up to these PT sessions and avoid putting pressure on my knees."

"But you're still playing," I said, "A lot."

"And I'm not fully recovered."

**

I think I finally understood. Luke loves basketball and he's incredible to watch on court. He thrives on the action, on the game and on pushing himself to the limit. He has a limit.

For a boy who never thought his body would be a limitation, that must have crushed him.

I wrapped my arm around Luke, feeling his strong muscles underneath my grip. He seemed so strong to me. How could this be taken away from him?

"Nothing's happened yet," I told him, "If you want to play, you can still play. We'll take care of your-"

I stopped myself in my tracks. My fingers lifted from around his shoulders and I breathed out, "You aren't taking care of yourself, are you?"

I began to piece together the last time we came here together. This was hard for me to say, "You brought me here once and told me to pretend to be your mom so you can sign some papers."

Because he wasn't following doctor's orders and he'd been trying to cover that up.

Did anyone else know?  Who was supporting him with this bad decision?

Playing basketball at the highest level would destroy him physically, wouldn't it? Doctors' orders are to rest, and he isn't resting. Coach, his father, the competition... no one was letting him rest.

"That's why it's been difficult," he said, "And why I struggled to tell you."

Finally, it was making sense. It felt like I'd decoded a cryptic message.

"It's wrong what you're doing," I said.

"I know," he answered, pulling me into his arms and resting his head onto my shoulder, "Do I want a minute of knowing I made it or a lifetime of knowing what could have been?"

I turned my head to face him, to look him in his blue eyes and to ask, "You'll risk a lifetime for a minute?"

"Depends how long a minute can last."

60 seconds, Luke. 

That's what a minute is. 

I didn't feel like now was the time to say it.  It wasn't the point he was trying to make, but still.

We spent time in silence, studying each other's faces. He held onto me as if I was a support system of some kind. 

He had told me his story.

He'd shared his burden. This clinic was somewhere he first came as a scared boy, and now it was a reminder of the risks he faces every time he decides to play the game.

I kissed his lips and said, "You really know how to pick a date spot."


A/N: I've been waiting to write this chapter and to uncover more of Luke. What do you think? If you want more of this, please vote! It's going to be a busy few days so your votes/reads and comments will keep me motivated to write this week :) 

AND I'm creating a Spotify playlist for the Player Next Door! 

It's a great excuse to listen to music 8693475 hours today.  Usually, I only listen to like ~8693474 hours a day ;) Comment on my latest Instagram post (@NatalieInACorner) with any song requests!

<3 Natalie

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