Page 29 of Dickathlon

My brother was staying with me and Quinn. My mom had begged me to stay at home, but I wanted to get back to as normal a life as possible post-surgery, and it would be slightly easier to finish school if I were closer to campus. Pierce was the compromise.

To be frank, a huge part of me wanted to just give up. After the hospital and seeing all the scans and everything else they had done, the bottom line was that I was unlikely to return to my former level of gymnastic capabilities. With rehab, my arm would be okay, but the doctor literally had said, “Elite gymnastics skills will not be possible. There’s just too much damage.”

And that was that. The reason I wanted to just lay in bed all day.

The reason I hadn’t even looked at my phone all week.

The reason I was cursing Pierce and his incessant encouragement.

“Maybe!” I challenged him.

And then my brother was in my room, throwing my comforter back to reveal my bare ass.

“Jesus, bro, put some clothes on.”

“Wasn’t that what you were gonna do?” I continued to lie on the bed. “I sleep naked. Deal with it.”

“At least you have the sling on.” I heard him grumble as he headed to my dresser and picked out clothes. “You know, for an Olympian, I would’ve thought you’d rise to the challenge. Show those fuckwit doctors that they’re full of shit and make a huge comeback out of all this. If anyone could do that, it’d be you, Ty.”

“Former Olympian.”

“Get up. You’re not a baby.” He tossed some briefs my way and reluctantly, I grabbed them and maneuvered my legs through. He helped me get some shorts on, zipping them up for me. String tanks had been a saving grace lately. Big armholes meant I didn’t have to take the sling off.

On the way out of the apartment, he said, “You missed breakfast, so here’s a granola bar.”

* * *

The next few weeks carried on much the same. However, I found enough motivation most mornings to dress myself before my brother could get another eyeful. I think he started giving me a little more time after he realized I slept naked. A few mornings I even ate breakfast with him and Quinn.

Once my sutures fully healed, I was able to do a bit more, including going back to school and work. My degree was earned at this point. And because I had filled the last semester with fluff classes, it wasn’t hard to stay current despite having missed so much. It was a distinct possibility the teachers had cut me some slack as well.

Pierce wasn’t a gymnast, but with me not entirely functional, he was helpful at practice. Quinn was also helping the boys team. I couldn’t do much of the physical stuff, especially spotting, so I taught Pierce how to do what I couldn’t. The kids were really supportive, most of them having watched what happened, and when I was with them, I could feel a little of the weight lift off my shoulders. I told the principal I’d decide at the end of the season if I wanted to come back. We only had a few weeks left anyway.

The flipside to doing more was that my energy level was decimated before it was even dark out.

Once I was back in the apartment, the weight returned - almost a comfort at this point. It was still a struggle to get out of bed every morning. If it wasn’t rehab, Pierce wanted me to watch him surf, or go for a walk, or go out to eat. And I humored him, but it was an automatic response by now. It was just easier to say yes and go.

After all, everything I had worked so hard for was just gone.

* * *

I was sitting on the couch, watching whatever, when Pierce came into the room and thrust his phone into my hand.

“It’s Luke. He’s mad. And if you don’t talk to him, he’s going to keep calling me, so you better talk to him.”

I grabbed the phone, shoved it between my ear and my good shoulder and headed to my bedroom for some privacy.

“Hey, Luke.”

“Hey, Luke. Hey, Luke?! What the actual fuck, Ty? I was worried about you and you disappeared off the face of the planet. How are you doing?”

I sighed. “It honestly fucking sucks.” I crashed on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Well, you know what might make it a little better? Talking to your friends. You better find your phone, or turn it on, or whatever the opposite of what you’ve been doing is. Woodward’s worried too. I’m surprised he hasn’t driven over there.”

I chuckled. “Look, bro, I’m sorry I…did that. You can’t possibly imagine how intensely shitty this is.”

“You’re right. I can’t. But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’d like to come for another visit, if that’s okay. It’ll probably be in a few months.”