42 - Maynor Figueroa

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He came into the room unsure of what to do. He quickly scanned the room searching for someone to assist him, but everyone seemed busy. He adjusted his crutches on his hands and shoulders.

"Hello," a soft voice said behind him.

He turned around to face a petite woman who had a small smile on her face. His eyes scanned her name badge, Emily.

She noticed his dark eyes and the small scar underneath his eye. She could tell he was overwhelmed to be in here but she continued on. "Let's go to a table and talk about your injury."

She led him to a table where he sat up, not wanting to lay down. He stared back at her waiting for her to continue as she typed a couple notes on her laptop.

"Maynor? Correct?" She asked. He nodded his head slowly as his eyes wandered down her body. She was indeed beautiful, but he knew he shouldn't get in the trouble with a woman. He needed to focus on his injury, not a woman. "How did you pull your hamstring?"

He shrugged, "Sprinting."

"Did you continue playing even with the pain shooting through your thigh?"

He nodded slowly, "There was only a couple minutes left of the game."

She nodded, him staring at her so intently made her nervous all of a sudden. "Lay down so I can begin to stretch you out. After this, we'll do some more stretches."

She pushed aside her laptop desk and scooted closer in her stool towards him. She began to remove his bandage while he still felt uncomfortable. He scrunched his face in pain.

"While I'm stretching you, I want you to hold my wrist. Squeeze if there is somewhat pain, push it away if it is unbearable," she said. He hesitantly wrapped his fingers around her tiny wrist.

She began to move her hands up and down his thigh, massaging it. He let out a small groan and squeezed her wrist.

"Is it supposed to hurt?" He asked her.

She sighed, "Of course, you have a Grade 3 sprain."

"How long will I be out?"

"At least four weeks," she commented while he groaned. She continued to massage his thigh, as he began to shift uncomfortably as her fingers traveled higher. "Relax, I'm not going to do anything."

"Emily," he whispered.

"Yes?"

"You'll make me be back on the field sooner, right?" He asked her looking at her.

She smiled, "We'll see, Maynor, but I am pretty good at my job. I got one of your teammates back on the field sooner than he was supposed to. He was supposed to be out for at least six weeks but he was back in four. I'm that good."

He chuckled making her smile harder. She didn't think he was capable of smiling, or even laughing, especially since he was so quiet at the beginning.

"You're that good, huh?" He chuckled.

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