famous last words | s. crosby

8; scars and souvenirs

Elliott's POV

At this point in the lives of most mid-twenty year old girls, they were beginning to settle down. Marriage was frequently discussed, even sometimes a baby would pop out.

But for me, a girl who's 26th birthday was just on the horizon, I was being asked for the first time ever to be someone's girlfriend. Not to mention, I'd lost sleep convincing myself I didn't like this guy. After almost two weeks of constant texting, calling, and Skype dates, I still somehow let myself tell myself I didn't see him as anything but a friend.

Apparently that wasn't the case. It had been painfully obvious to everyone around that the two of us had a 'thing' going.

I sat there, fumbling over my words; a bad nervous tick I'd had developed in childhood. All eyes were glued on me-- including my coach's, who was almost bouncing out of anticipation-- though it only made it worse.

Did I want this? Did I was us to be an actual thing?

I had just possibly ended my career with a knee blow out.

I didn't know what was ahead.

It was known I always need something to look forward to.

"I- I mean-" I let out a laugh, followed by a long sigh. I shook my head; I didn't know what I was getting myself into, "Yeah. Of course I'll be your girlfriend."

The room almost began cheering, but was quickly silenced by the doctor making his entrance with the brace to stabilize my knee and the crutches. He asked me to go change out of the hospital gown; with the help of my coach, I slipped into the bathroom and put on a pair of leggings and the hoodie I had stolen just a few days before. I took the time to throw my long blonde locks into a messy bun, wanting to get out of the hospital as soon as possible.

Everyone stepped aside and quieted down as the group of doctors first wrapped it in an ugly pale medical bandage around the knee (which, by the way, underneath the leggings, was already bandaged.) Of course, I still couldn't really feel the pain because of the medication being pumped into my system by the IV. He then wrapped a big, bulky hinged knee brace around my leg. It started at my mid-thigh and ended at my ankle. It wasn't the necessarily the fashion statement I was wanting to make.

"Now, you're going to have the bandage on at least until we can get the staples out. There are about thirty in there and we'll go ahead and schedule an appointment in two weeks for reevaluation and staple removal. For the time being, it looks like you'll be stuck in the brace for probably around eight to nine months with physical therapy twice a week."

I choked up, "Eight to nine months?"

The doctor nodded before continuing, "As for the concussion, you'll need someone to monitor you for at least for the first forty-eight hours. Just as a precaution that nothing's getting worse. It's not the worst concussion, by far, and you should have very, very mild symptoms. A headache and light sensitivity at most. For any pain, in the head or knee, Advil is fine; it'll act as a preventative to blood clots, too. I'd avoid driving and bike riding for a while. You need to get plenty of rest. If anything gets worse during the next few days, give me a call and we'll work you in."

With one last burst of confidence, I spoke up, "And, when can I skate again?"

The doctor's face fell as he broke eye contact with me, "It's... uncertain. It's possible you could make a comeback, but there's a considerably higher chance of your knee never preforming at the same level. With this being the second knee injury in the past six months, not to mention the concussions and the hip deterioration you're already developing, retirement isn't out of the question at this point. You're twenty-five with the body of someone much, much older."