Getting the Shaft

Elena and Jeff, her fiancée (eek!), had already decided to get married this upcoming summer, in July.  She asked all of us to be bridesmaids.  Her sister was going to be her maid-of-honor.  Of course we all accepted the honor.  She wants to go dress shopping this upcoming Saturday, because of how close it already is.  All three of us have athletic endeavors, though, so she’s going to go with her mom and sister and if she doesn’t find anything, we’ll go next week with her.

Yesterday, while in the athletic trainer’s room, I have another encounter with Luke.  I was laying on the table, icing, with my eyes closed, when I felt someone standing next to me.  I popped my eyes open to see Mr. Gorgeous himself, standing overlooking me.  “So, not to be confrontational, but you never responded to my Facebook message.  You just befriend people, and then ignore them?”  He looked at me quizzically.

I blushed.  Dang.  “Oh… Yeah… About that…”

He raised an eyebrow at me, prompting me to finish.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve had a lot going on, in my personal life, it wasn’t on purpose.”  He started laughing.

“Hey, I’m just messing.  But Katie told me you’d give me a tour around town.”  I quickly sneaked a look at Katie, she was working on someone else and not looking at me, but I could see her smugly smiling.  “So do you think you’ll have time this week?”

“I think I could pencil you in sometime this week.” I grinned, teasingly at him.

“Thursday?”

“Sure, but it’ll have to be after practice.”

“Understood.  7?”

“I think I can squeeze you in, then.”

“It’s a date.” He winked at me and walked away.  Of course I blushed again.  I have a horrible inability to control that seemingly natural reflex of mine.  Katie walked over, held out her hand for a high-five.  I playfully glared at her, told her not cool, and hopped off the table to dump my ice out and head home.

Once home, I walked in to see Sarah sitting on the couch crying. 

“Sarah?  What is wrong?” I worriedly approached her, sat down next to her and put my arm around her.

“It’s my… hip… surgery,” is what I managed to understand between her sobs and hiccups.

“No!  Have you been to the doctor?”

She looked at me miserably, with her eyes red and tear streaks down her face.  “Yes.  They *hiccup* think I tore *hiccup* my labrum in my *hiccup* hip.” 

“Can you finish the season or what do they think?”

She threw her head back onto the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling, and sighed, then deeply breathed before answering me.  “I have an MRI tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“2.”

“I’m taking you.”

“What?  No.”

“Sarah, don’t be ridiculous.  Your family is in Wisconsin, and you aren’t going by yourself.  I won’t allow you.”

She looked at me, and gave me a half smile, hiccupped again, and said she was going to lie down.  I knew that meant thank you, in her own way.  At the door to the bedroom, I heard her call out to me, “Aleah, you’re the best friend ever.”

I sat thinking to myself.  I don’t know what I would do, if something like that were to happen to me.  If I couldn’t play tennis?  Part of who I am, is a tennis player.  It had been a big part of my identity for so long.  Not even being a tennis player, but an athlete.  I had slowed down once I entered college on a full scholarship, but all throughout my childhood and high school, I played sports all the time.  I was a tomboy.  When I would go to a beach (as much of one as you can get in Nebraska!) or to a pool, while my friends were laying out soaking up the rays, I was always with the boys playing sand or pool volleyball, or playing football out in the yard.  Imagining not being athletic, for Sarah, who was very similar, hurt my heart, for her.  I want to do something special for her tomorrow, I decided.  I sent Maddie and Elena a group text and told them that I had to take Sarah to the doctor the next day, but after Maddie’s and my practices each got over, we should have a roommate night, and make dinner and play cards.  I asked Elena to get some peonies, too, since those are Sarah’s favorite flower, while we were all at practice.  Even if Sarah couldn’t participate, I know her, and I knew that she would choose to go and sit and cheer her teammates on, rather than sit back here and mope. 

For one of my morning classes today, I had to give a presentation.  It had to do with the 5 stages of loss and grief.  What a lot of people don’t know about me, because I am good at hiding it, is I’m actually rather shy, and one of my biggest fears is public speaking.  I can pretend to have all the self-confidence in the world.  But leading up to presentations, or public speaking of any kind, my stomach starts hurting, I usually have to pee really badly, and my armpits sweat like I have hoses hooked up to each of them.  It’s disgusting.  I always wear a black top on presentation days, so no one will notice.  I really should get a script for some Xanax, with how much anxiety it causes me!  It’s just so bizarre, because playing tennis, I want all eyes on me, but speaking, I would rather sit in solitary for 3 days. 

Because of how large the class is, the professor doesn’t have everyone present.  He always chooses 10 people.  He makes sure that throughout the semester, everyone presents at least once.  So everyone who doesn’t present just has to turn in their paper.  Well, this was my lucky class where I get to present.  As I’m walking to the front of the room, I stumble over the step, onto the “stage” area.  Luckily, I don’t fall.  I hear some snickering.  I can tell this is already going to be great.  I set my note cards on the podium and take a moment to center myself, glancing around the classroom.  Most people are doodling, or trying to secretively play on their phones.  I think to myself that most of these classmates of mine are just like me, and aren’t going to pay any attention to what their peer is saying.  But then, at the far opposite end of the room of where I normally try to sit and slip in and slip out, I see him sitting.  Luke.  I’m close my eyes and groan internally.  How have I not EVER noticed him in this class before?  Oh yeah, because I rarely show up to class.  Good job, Aleah.  I instantly become exponentially more nervous.  My hands start shaking and sweating.  I grip the bottom edge of the podium, so try and give myself a sense of calm.  I take a deep breath, and clear my throat and start speaking.  I always try to interject some humor whenever I have to publically speak.  Unfortunately, I did unintentionally during my presentation.

I was winding up my talk, going over points that if someone is grieving, some nice gestures to make towards an individual to help them out.  I had managed to avoid Luke’s eyes the whole time.  Then, right as I was going to say, “Offer to take someone’s shift.”  I looked at Luke and misplaced the word shift for shaft.  I immediately stopped talking, closed my eyes, turned bright red (no surprise there),opened them, muttered thank you, and skulked back to my seat.  I heard my classmates laughing and someone behind me patted me on the back.  I lowered my face on to my table top and let the coolness calm me down.  I squeezed my eyes shut really tight, remembering that I was going to be giving Luke a tour of who knows what, the next night.  Maybe I could cancel. 

After class, I shot out of my seat to run out as quickly as possible.  I was just walking through the door when I felt a hand grab the back of my arm.  I turned to see Luke smiling mischievously at me.

He started, “So?”

“So, what?”  I replied defensively.

“Do you have an offer for me?”

“An offer?”

“You know, to take my shaft?”

I jerked my arm away and quickly took off in the opposite direction, mortified.