4. Samantha

                                    

                                          
The Hillhurst game was the most important game of the season. They were Middleton's rival team and we'd have to beat them to have a hope of making State later in the year. And we wanted to go to State. 
I woke up that morning and carefully checked my ankle. It looked a little bruised and hurt to walk on, but I had to play today. I limped into my bathroom and did my thing, and then took a couple Advil to deal with the pain in my ankle. I put on high top Converse so that I could support my ankle a bit better, and tied them as tight as I could handle. I tossed my basketball uniform, freshly washed, and my basketball sneakers into my bag and grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs. I took the stairs carefully. 
"Morning!" Mom said from the kitchen as I came down. 
"Morning," I said, being careful to walk normally. 
"How's the ankle?" She asked. 
"It's fine. Doesn't even hurt," I said. 
She looked at me skeptically. 
Mom made the best breakfasts on game days. Pancakes and bacon. I bolused my insulin and ate up. 
"Your game is at three, right?" Mom asked. 
"Yep," I said through a mouthful of pancake. 
"I'll be there at 2:45 to tape up your ankle," Dad said, coming into the kitchen with a sleepy looking Rosie. 
"Morning, RoRo," I said. 
"Monin SaSa," she said, her head on Dad's shoulder. 
"Are you coming to SaSa's game today?"
"I come," she said. 
Once I finished breakfast, I got ready to leave. 
"Let me drive you," Dad said. "Rest that ankle."
I shrugged. 
"Okay," 
He got his keys and pulled on a jacket and we left. 
"How's the ankle?" He asked as we pulled out of the driveway. 
"It's fine," I said. In reality, it was throbbing a bit. 
I got out of the car and walked inside where Jill was waiting. 
"You okay?" She asked. 
"I twisted my ankle playing basketball with my dad last night and it's still a bit sore. But I don't want him to know because Mom already said I should miss the game. But it's Hillhurst," I said. 
"I dunno, Sam. What if you hurt it worse and instead of missing one or two games, you miss the whole season?"
"There is no way I'm not playing Hillhurst," I said. Jill shrugged. 
We went to class and I tried to focus, though the throbbing in my ankle wasn't helping. 
By lunch it was really bugging me so I went to the nurse's office to get some ice. 
"Aren't you on the basketball team?" She asked. 
"Yeah. I just landed funny yesterday and I just want to ice it a bit more before today's game," I said. 
"Maybe I should take a look at it," she said. 
"It's fine," I said.  "I don't have PE so I can rest it. I just need an ice pack."
She seemed skeptical, but handed me an ice pack and let me go. 
I did my best to rest my ankle without making it obvious. At 2:30 the bell rang and I headed to the locker room to change. That way Dad could meet me in the gym and tape up my ankle so I could play. 
I changed quickly and carefully took off my sneaker. My ankle was pretty bruised and swollen. I put my socks on and tied my sneaker as tight as I comfortably could and went out into the gym to wait for Dad. I practiced free throws with Jessica, a girl on my team, until Dad came in and whistled for me. 
"Hey, Dad," I said, jogging over and giving him a hug. 
"Hey champ. How's the ankle?"
"It's fine," I said. 
"Hey String Bean!" A voice said. I turned around and Uncle Josh and Aunt Debby were there. 
"Hi!" I said, excited and happy to see them. 
"Your dad told us today's a big game and invited us."
"I'm so glad!" 
"Let's get this ankle taped up, huh?" Dad said, pointing at the bench. 
I sat down and took off my shoe and sock. 
"Sam! That looks pretty bad!" Dad said. 
"It's fine," I insisted. "It's just a bruise from landing funny. It's fine."
"Sam, you know I'm proud of you no matter what, right?" Dad said. 
"Yeah, of course."
"If you're too hurt to play, I'd rather you sit out a game or two than cause more damage and maybe miss the season. Basketball isn't everything."
"Dad, it's fine.  It's Hillhurst."
Dad sighed and started wrapping my ankle. He did it pretty tight, so it felt pretty stable. 
"Don't be a hero," he said. "Take yourself out of the game if you have to. There's no shame in that."
"Dad. I am fine!" I insisted. I needed to play. 
"Okay, okay, just promise me if it hurts more, you'll pull yourself," he said. 
I rolled my eyes. 
"Dad, it's fine. But I'll sit out if it feels worse."
"Okay. Good.  Now go kiss your good luck charm," he smiled. 
I went over to where Mom and Rosie were sitting with Uncle Josh and Aunt Debby. 
"SaSa!!! Play good!" Rosie said. I picked her up and gave her a squish and a kiss. 
"Always when my good luck charm is here," I smiled at her. 
"Good luck, kiddo," Uncle Josh said, offering a fist bump. I returned it and Aunt Debby did too. 
I went back to the team bench and listened to the coach with her pre-game notes. 
The ref called the game and we hit the court. I took my position and caught the tip off and headed down court, passing the ball to Jessica, who passed it back to me and I made the free throw for 2 points. Everyone cheered. 
The game continued with Hillhurst scoring two baskets putting them ahead. I got the ball and started charging down court. It was clear so I didn't need to pass. Just as I jumped up for a layup, their point guard slammed into me and I landed hard on my bad ankle. Pain shot up my leg. I think I screamed, but that might have been the ref's whistle. I landed hard on my side and lay on the floor holding my leg. Coach was at my side in a flash. 
"Joseph, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"My ankle," I said through gritted teeth. She looked down and gently touched it. I screamed in pain. 
"Can you get up?" She asked. I shook my head. I threw my arm over my eyes. I didn't want to look. The pain made me think my ankle had exploded. 
Dad was at my side. 
"Sam, are you okay?" 
I shook my head. 
"We've called an ambulance. She'll need that ankle stabilized," Coach said to Dad. He nodded. Mom came over holding Rosie. 
I saw a stretcher coming across the court. Jessica came running over with my school bag and gym bag and handed them to Mom. She thanked her. 
The paramedics checked my ankle, which made me scream again, and then they set it or something and put a splint on it to keep it stable. They got me on the stretcher and wheeled me out. People started clapping. I never understood that. 
In the ambulance I looked at Dad, who looked worried. 
"I'm sorry, Dad," I said.  He smiled at me. 
"It's okay, kiddo. Let's get this sorted out, okay?"